The year was 1972. They were the perfect couple. He was sixteen, a star athlete. She was fifteen, a popular cheerleader. Their world changed one night after he drove her home. They sat on the couch in the living room, drinking lemonade and talking. Her parents weren’t home. She went into her bedroom and came back naked.

He said, “what are you doing? Put some clothes on before your parents come home.”

She laughed. “Don’t you wish all the cheerleaders dressed like this? I bet this is every school boy’s fantasy.” She began performing her cheerleader routines. “What do you think?”

“I think you should put some clothes on.”

“You’re no fun.” She walked back down the hall and into her bedroom. She put a record on, turned the volume up, and ran back into the living room. “Dance with me.” She grabbed his hands and pulled. He shook his head and stayed on the couch.

She was dancing when her parents walked through the front door. She covered herself, ran to her bedroom, and slammed the door. Her father stormed into the living room. “Stay right where you are,” he said, then ran into the kitchen to phone the police. Her mother pounded on the the girl’s bedroom door.

The police arrived and questioned the girl. She told them the truth. The father blamed the boy. He had hypnotized her, mesmerized her, seduced her with his athletic prowess. He demanded that the boy be arrested for statutory rape. The police couldn’t do that since he too was a minor. He was released to his parents.

The father did the only thing he could do in a situation like that. He forbid his daughter from having anything to do with that deviant boy. They continued to see each other for a while, but eventually broke up.

It was all very sad. They were the perfect couple.