My Unrequited Love Story with J.F.K., Jr.

It began with the simplest of questions: What would it be like to be him? Him, John F. Kennedy, Jr., our American Prince (or as close to one as we were going to get). What would it be like to be that handsome? That strong? Endowed not only with a privileged birthright but—unlike the actual princes over in England, who had weak chins and went bald young—the physical stature to match? What was it like to have Jackie O. for a mother? To summer on your stepfather’s private Greek island? To be wildly sexually successful without even having to try? In the world as I knew it then (meaning college), there were two basic conditions: that of being John F. Kennedy, Jr., and that of being everyone else.