Teen Ink

Football, red meat, power tools. Football, red meat, power tools. These three things played over and over in my head. Three manly things that kept me from thinking about …

“WE DID NOT WATCH ‘THE NOTEBOOK’!”

You could hear Key from across the Quad. He was pointing at Alex. The 15 feet of sidewalk took three strides and less than a second for me to cross to reach them. I grabbed Key’s arm and thrust it to his side, whispering so only they could hear.

“Keep your voices down, idiots. We said we would never talk about it. If anyone asks, we put it in for two minutes, realized how girly it was, and watched ‘Fight Club’ instead.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex murmured. “I can’t help myself. It was such a good movie. I can’t get over the …”

“I don’t want to hear it!” bellowed Key. “Stick to the plan, Alex. I promise you if anybody finds out what happened last night I will kill you.”

I looked into Key’s eyes; I didn’t think I had ever seen him look so serious. For a second it actually frightened me. Nonetheless, Key was right – this was not a joking matter. If word that three highly regarded senior men had watched “The Notebook” together the previous night, their reputation, masculinity, and sexual orientation would no doubt come into question.

It is not a matter of how perfect “The Notebook” is, or how it made the three of us experience a state of compassion, anger, and mourning that gave us a new appreciation of love. This was a matter of Man Law.

Chick flicks are well-known for their effect on women, and naturally, girlfriends are notorious for their countless attempts to trick us into watching these horrid films. Imagine the social suicide that would come if the campus was aware of the crime against masculinity that the three of us had committed.

Throughout the day I was constantly honing in on neighboring conversations for the slightest mention of my name. My body tensed when teachers asked us to take “notes” or open our “books.” I approached every group of friends prepared to ­defend my actions. Then the worst happened – one fatal mistake that we had overlooked: the person who had lent us the movie.

My girlfriend was thrilled that I had asked to borrow “The Notebook.” She made it her duty to tell all her friends. The gossip spread faster than wildfire. At this point we had no other option than to enter survival mode: Deny ’Til You Die. We were perfect, the three of us denying everything in harmony. We were prepared for the worst, but it never came. In fact, the reaction was the exact opposite of what we had dreaded all day.

“Are you kidding?” Christopher exclaimed. “I loved ‘The Notebook’!”