Stuff in Stockings



Neighborhood: Yorkville

Stuff in Stockings
Photo by Thomas R. Pryor

Gabriella breezed into St. Stephen’s 6th grade as a new student, and left a battleship wake when she mysteriously disappeared after seventh grade.

Gabriella was an adorable Hungarian immigrant with a low voice like Natasha on the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. Her hair was cut short and bobbed to show off her huge dark almond-shaped eyes and rich lips. Drove the boys loopy, the girls hated her guts.

Gabriella tried to conform and win over the girls. She never responded to the boys trying to charm her socks off. She wore the school uniform, conservative and trim: blue jumper, white blouse buttoned to the top with a neat blue bow tie, high white socks with saddle shoes. This meant nothing to the other girls. Gabriella could have been Richie Rich’s twin sister, and they wouldn’t have cared and still hated her guts because the guys were looking at her instead of them. Gabriella was lonely in sixth grade.

Seventh grade, Gabriella returned to the classroom with bobbed hair and delicious lipstick and dark eyeliner that made her look like Cleopatra. No more shy flower. She began to loosen her bow tie right after lunch. By two o’clock, the second blouse button snuck open. Guys asked to go to the bathroom in record numbers to walk pass her desk.

The high white socks were gone, replaced with stockings. This was the first time I realized, that girls’ legs could give girls’ boobs equal time in my Daydreaming Hall of Fame. She was a delicious genetic milkshake. Every part of her body measured by an angel for rightness, before she was handed over to the stork for delivery. Her legs were smooth, curvy, perfect.

After a boy battle in the classroom, the Nun moved our seating arrangements around and miraculously I ended up behind Gabriella. Occasionally, Gabriella stretched her leg back towards my desk giving me a close up. This never lasted long enough for my satisfaction. I wanted it to stay there all day. She and I got along. I made her laugh and she appreciated my help with math. I saw light.

Sister Aloysius announced a surprise spelling bee. I faked panic and leaned forward.

“Pssst, Gabriella, Gabriella, I need your help.”


“I didn’t study the words.”

“Well, I’m not sure I know them either.”

“No, no, no. I’m going to write them down on a gyp note. Put them inside your stocking, and stick them half way down the back. During the test, stick your leg back and I’ll read the words, you can see them when you bring your leg forward. OK?”


We got caught. I accepted full blame, got a zero and watched it get dark outside.

Doing the crime, well worth the time.

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