37) That One Time I Snuck Out

August 11, 2025

37) That One Time I Snuck Out

That One Time I Snuck Out- Anxiety

Choir was one of those classes I never missed.

I always auditioned for the higher choirs, and they always put me in the lowest audition choir, because they only had one fat dress and they already had one fat person in the upper choirs.

My mom also hated the choir teacher, because he had taken over when she was in choir and the previous choir teacher caused the sun to rise and set, so this guy never had a shot. We’ll call him Mickey. He had an assistant choir teacher who we will call Pooh.

High school choir was a bit of a safety zone for me. First of all, singing is a primary stim for me, so being in a room where 83 other students were also stimming with me was pretty awesome. It just FEELS good.

Singing also requires a little bit of vulnerability, which leads to more acceptance than usual. Being brave in choir created space for others to feel brave as well.

I made a really good friend, who I feel like I’ve already written about here, but I’ll be damned if I can find it (I’ll give a gold star to anyone who can find another post with him in it). Let’s call him Mr. E.

Mr. E was a smoker like me, so inevitably we ended up on the same corners.

He was a “bad boy” that all of the faculty gave a knowing side-eye to. There was a thick chain that fastened his wallet to his baggy pants. His t-shirts usually had a band logo.

It was clear everyone felt he had a past.

I never saw it. I never saw him commit a single unkind act. I actually watched him make space for the authenticity of others, like me.

He lived with his aunt and uncle because his mom was absent at best, and his aunt and uncle loved me, because I was a big rule follower that made sure that Mr. E made it to choir on time.

His mom was chasing the dream of being a country music star, and I never met her. Mr. E missed her, but he also knew he was in a better situation. He was trying to make his own new start.

Grandpa, who really got off on being early for everything, would drop me off at the high school at 6:30 in the morning. Thank goodness the cafeteria was open.

I was usually the first one there, and although there were some times that I stayed at the school until others arrived and played cards until class started, for my freshman year especially I usually would take off for Mr. E’s house. He only lived a few blocks away.

His aunt and uncle knew I was there and they trusted me, which felt really really nice. They had a really loud African grey parrot who Mr. E adored, and a piano in the living room we spent lots of time playing.

I would wake Mr. E up, and he would peek out from under the covers. We’d have a groggy conversation as I sat in one of those scoopy chairs next to his bed.

We’d talk about our dreams, and hopes, and the things we couldn’t tell other people.

Of course I was attracted to him, but I didn’t dare risk this friendship.

Mr. E was grounded a lot, and his guardians would stipulate that he could only have one friend over. Nobody would show up to his house before me, so it was their way of making an exception just for me. It drove his girlfriend crazy, but he never asked me to stop showing up. I think he really needed his time with me.

I remember him playing “Anna Begins,” from Counting Crows, August and Everything After. I fell in LOVE with that song, and the rest of the album. He loved “It Can’t Rain All the Time,” from The Crow, and I loved feeling that song with him. Time stopped in those moments. We were so human.

Various members of our group had started sneaking out together at night.

I was terrified of my mom, but felt so compelled that they had invited me. It took me quite a while to work up the nerve, and the perfect plan.

I had to wait for Mom to go to sleep, and she was a late-nighter. She was also an incredibly light sleeper, but thankfully, I had a lot of practice not waking her.

I managed to make it out without setting off the dogs, or making any sound with the squeaky screen door, or the gate to the yard.

I walked the 3/4 mile to his house, and tapped gently on his window.

There was no movement. I really didn’t want his aunt and uncle to catch me or it would be all over.

I continued to tap the window intermittently, for quite a while. Finally, I heard a double tap back, and I sat back and waited. It was probably only 5 minutes before he came around the side of the house.

When we got away from the house, I asked who we were going to get next. He said that everyone else had backed out.

I don’t think he invited them that night.

We walked around the neighborhood, watching for cars so we didn’t get caught out after curfew. We sat on sidewalks and just talked. There was never enough time to just talk to him.

I dropped him back off, and headed back to my house. When I got to the house, different lights were on than the ones that were on when I had left.

I was overcome with panic. I crept around the house trying to avoid setting off the motion sensor activated lights. Somehow, I managed to make it back in the house, and Mom was either not awake, or she was in the bathroom.

I crawled in my bed and pulled up the covers with barely my head poking out and laid perfectly still with my heart beating a million miles a minute. I focused so hard on trying to control my breathing.

It was never brought up, and I didn’t do it again.

Mr. E disappeared in the middle of our sophomore year, and I never found out why. His aunt and uncle just kept saying it was “for the best.”