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I thought it would be fun to record Jason’s and my love story—at least the beginning of it—starting with when we met and fell in love back in 1999. This is part 4 of 6.

For the rest of the day after the post-prom sleep over, I couldn’t think about anything other than Jason. I went to a planning meeting for an upcoming house building mission trip to Mexico and then went to the beach with some other youth group friends who were also going on the trip. We ate pizza and watched the sunset but my mind was consumed with that cute boy I had danced with the night before.

After church the next day, Jason came over to say hello. We made small talk for a few minutes. I had been doodling on my bulletin during the service with a random carpenter’s pencil I found in the pew. I made some joke about how it probably got flattened by a steam roller or a fat person sitting on it (I don’t remember specifically) and he laughed and asked if I would use my flat pencil to write down my phone number for him. My heart started pounding even harder than it already was…my number! He wants my number! He’s going to call me!

As if my mind wasn’t already consumed enough with this guy, now I had to wait by the phone for the rest of the day. I’m pretty sure I spent the afternoon sunning in the backyard with a few magazines, the portable phone by my side, you know, just in case. In the evening a classmate came over to work on a debate for English class the next day. We were supposed to be preparing to argue how it was impossible that Lee Harvey Oswald assassinated John F. Kennedy. The grassy knoll. The magic bullet theory. The Warren Commission. I couldn’t care less. All I could think about was the phone. When was it going to ring?

I thought it would be fun to record Jason’s and my love story—at least the beginning of it—starting with when we met and fell in love back in 1999. This is part 3 of 6.

There was a dance coming up, hosted by the local Christian radio station called the Christian Prom—kids from any school were welcome, the music was all Christian and of course…no funny business. Me and another girl at our church (who apparently also had a crush on Jay) convinced him to go. We all called him Jay instead of Jason back then and until I found out he preferred Jason.

We each showed up with different groups of friends. A few of my friends were seeing Jason for the first time and one of them insisted I needed a picture of him for my scrapbook, at all costs! She marched right up to him, snapped the photo with no explanation, turned around and came straight back to the table where we were all sitting…waiting and hoping we’d get asked to dance. The red glow was caused by the photographer’s carelessly placed finger. I love the what the?! look on his face.

It was getting late. Jason was running out of slow songs to make his move. Finally, half way through a song—I couldn’t tell you which one because I wasn’t listening to it at all—he made is way over to us and asked if I could like to dance. We walked out to the dance floor together and bobbled back and forth in awkward rhythm, Jason with his hands on my waist and me with my hands around his neck, a good 12″ between us. (Why didn’t my bold friend take a picture of this?)

After the dance, most of our youth group friends went back to Emily’s house for the night—one of the graduating seniors who had been an important influence on me. Finally, Jason and I had time to just talk and flirt and sit side by side. Somehow, I don’t remember any of our parents taking issue with 10-15 high school boys and girls all sleeping in one living room. I guess we were trustworthy enough and there was accountability in numbers. Jason slept on one end of a sofa and I on the other end…with the girl who also liked him in between us. When I opened my eyes in the morning—with a neck ache, I’m sure!—I saw Jason, sleeping peacefully just a few feet away from me. Before long everyone started stirring. I watched him open his eyes, look at me, blink hard and yawn, look at the girl was still asleep on his legs and make a raised-eyebrows face at me that said, “Oh boy…”