I was crazy about Vicky, but at 13, I’d never asked a girl to go steady. I sought my sister’s advice. “Give her a Christopher.” That was a thing in 1972, giving a girl a St. Christopher medal. We met at the park, sat on the grass. I babbled, my palms sweaty. What the hell was I thinking? Vicky would never go steady with me. In a panic, I blurted out, “Can you give this Christopher to Cheryl?” Her best friend. Vicky looked confused. “Uh, sure.” Cheryl and I went steady for a couple of awkward weeks before breaking up.
Héctor Hernández put his degree in civil engineering to good use for twenty-seven years. He is now retired and writes whenever inspiration demands his attention.