Four of us seventh-grade girls sat on the front steps of the school building, the late-afternoon African sun warming our tanned arms. “February has 29 days so this is a leap year. What are we doing to do on that extra day?”

“Maybe the teachers will let us skip all our classes,” one girl said.

Another friend laughed and said, “Probably not. But at lunch, the uncle announced that it’s called Sadie Hawkins Day in the U.S. He said that means girls get to ask the guys to the dance.”

“But we’re not allowed to dance,” I said.

“Nope!” exclaimed the other Debbie. “But then he said girls could invite the guys to sit with them at the KA hymn sing on the last Sunday of the month.”

“Well, I don’t want to ask someone I really like,” the first girl said. “What if he says no? That would be so embarrassing.”

“My problem is, I know this one guy likes me,” said the other friend, “so he would definitely say ‘Yes.’” She scuffed her tennis shoe on the tarmac. “But then he might ask me out next month, and I really don’t want to go with him.”

She sighed. “So, I’ve got to ask someone else.”

“This is all so complicated!” I said.

Debbie stood and stretched. “It’s not complicated at all. I’m going to ask Bobby because he’s a lot of fun and we kid each other like crazy. He stands up to my shenanigans. Besides …” she lifted her hand to her chin. “… He comes up to here on me and we’ll make a funny couple.”

“You’re silly,” I said. Staring across the playground at the large mango tree, I sighed. “I kind of like Paul. But he’s in eighth grade.”

Who Do I Choose?

I scratched at an itch behind my knee. “And I’m nervous to ask him because I think he’ll say no.”

Debbie elbowed the girl next to her. “We’ll go talk to him for you if you want.”

I heaved a sigh of relief. “Really? That’d be great!”

On Friday night, a group of junior high kids played Capture the Flag down at the track in the dark.

Debbie announced, “Now’s a good time for us to find Paul and ask him to go to the hymn sing with you.”

When they came back to my dorm room, I asked excitedly, “What did he say?”

The first girl piped up. “He said he won’t go with you.”

“No! No! That’s not what happened.” Debbie pointed her finger at me. “What Paul actually said was, ‘Tell Debbie to ask me herself.’”

“Oh, brother.” I huffed. “That means No.”

I twirled my hair around my finger. “I definitely don’t want to ask him myself, because then he’ll probably just say ‘No’ to my face.”

Two days later Debbie poked my arm as we walked down the school hallway. “Sooo. What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Well, I guess I’ll ask someone else.” I twisted my fingers together. “I kind of like Bobby, but you’ve got him taken.”

Walking further, I thought for a moment. “Hmmm. What about Bobby’s older brother, Billy? He’s pretty cute.”

The next day as we were on our way to the dining room for lunch, I caught up with Billy in the middle of the playground. Now’s my chance. I’d better not chicken out.

Getting Up My Nerve

“Hi. Ummm. Will you sit with me at the hymn sing?” My leg started itching and I bent slightly to scratch it.

When I looked up, he grinned. “Sure.”

I glanced over his shoulder at the tetherball pole, too nervous to hold his gaze.  “Really?”

“Sure,” Billy said again. “It’ll be fun.”

“Thank you!” I turned and skipped all the way to the dining room. I’m glad he said yes, but I wonder: Did he hear about Paul and was just feeling sorry for me?

A Leap Year Hymn Sing

Sunday evening after church, I looked for Billy. When I found him, we walked into the lounge and grabbed two seats in the next to last row.

Looking around at all the other pairs of girls-and-guys, I thought, I’ve never seen so many couples. Girls are much braver at asking guys out than guys are at asking girls.

After the leader asked for favorites, the pianist’s fingers flew over the keys playing song after song. Everyone sang out with gusto.

Suddenly, I felt like ants were crawling up my legs and torso. Oh no. Not this again. It’s been a few weeks since I was itchy all over.

I shifted in my seat and lifted my right leg off the sweaty wooden seat. Then I set it down on the seat and lifted my other leg. The movement helped relieve the prickles a little bit.

Next, I flapped my knees together. I wonder if Billy’s bothered by my fidgeting.

I stole a sideways glance at my date. Phew. He’s looking straight ahead.

At Kent Academy, two rules were firm: No Holding Hands and Sit Six Inches Apart. That evening, those sounded like a great safety net. But soon the tickly feeling became all-consuming. Even though I normally loved the hymns and had many of them memorized, I wanted to jump up and run away from the stinging.

Finally, the leader announced, “Okay kids. Who has a favorite for the last song?”

As soon as the hymn ended, I stood and turned to Billy. “Thanks for sitting with me. I’ve got to go now.”

His eyebrows drew together with a question. “Are you okay?

Thanks for the Date!

I nodded. “Yes. But I’m going back to the dorm. Good night.”

He waved his hand. “Good night. See you around.”

I hustled out of the lounge as fast as my feet could go without making a scene. Then I ran through the lobby, out the front doors, and across the playground.

As soon as I got to my room, I stripped off my pantyhose, threw myself on my bed and rubbed my legs ferociously. They were the usual tan color, with no rash or redness. The tingling is all under the skin, not on the outside, I thought. That’s so strange.

I’d felt that horrible itch before, but never this bad. Grabbing my hairbrush, I raked up and down my legs. It seems like my nerves from the date made things worse.

Soon a gang of seventh-grade girls burst through the hall door. Debbie and two others poked their head in my room.

“What are you doing on your bed?” One asked.

“How did you like your date with Billy?”

Debbie plopped beside me and started to chatter. “Bobby and I had some big laughs! We sure had fun singing loudly and off-key.” She warbled a few high notes. “Until an uncle threatened us with having to sift sand on Saturday.”

I scratched my legs with the hairbrush again. “I’m glad Sadie Hawkins Day only happens once every four years. During the whole hymn sing, my prickly skin made me wiggle in my seat.

“I’m sorry you’re always itchy,” one of the girls said. “What do you think is wrong?”

“I have no idea. Billy was really nice, but he probably won’t ever speak to me again. I don’t even care.” I sat up and straightened my pillow. “Dating is too much trouble anyway.”

Looking Back

As strict and old-fashioned the rules at Kent Academy were, I’m surprised that Sadie Hawkins Day was discussed, and the staff approved of girls asking the boys out. It was such a novel idea, that I latched onto it, and even though I was nervous around guys, I was determined to find a date.

At the time, I didn’t know I was allergic to gluten. I often had irritated skin, but I never attributed it to something I ate. I figured I was allergic to my clothing or soap or something. In the next couple of years, I developed a perpetual rash behind my knees and on my feet. In my junior year, I had to be hospitalized because a staph infection developed from my scratching my feet so much.

What I Know Now

Several fun stories turned up this week as I emailed old friends to reminisce about this event. However, a few people said they didn’t want me to use their names, and I completely understand. Rest assured, I will never use your name in my stories unless I have your permission!

Recently I reconnected with Bob, Bill, and even Paul. When I met Paul’s lovely wife, Dawn, at a reunion a few years ago, I shared this story with them and laughed at myself because I had said that Paul turned me down.

Right then he corrected me, “I didn’t say ‘No,’ but I said, ‘Tell her to ask me herself.’”

As soon as he said that, I remembered it! Somehow, I stored what I believed he would have said instead. It was a relief to see it clearly again

Fun Fact

Our daughter, Heather, was born on Leap Year Day in 1992, so today we’re celebrating her seventh, I mean her twenty-eighth, birthday!

Link It to Your Life

What Leap Year memories do you have from your youth? This week, I encourage you to share with a trusted friend about an awkward date you had and see if you’re able to recover from the embarrassment you felt. Perhaps you’ll even begin to see the humor in it.

For details on how I came to live at a boarding school in Nigeria, check out my page here.

My MK friend, Esther Goetz, posted her poignant Leap Year story here.