1-8; A Memoir

#1

This is where it all started. December 14th, 2005. I’m standing on the playground listening to my brand new iPod my dad gave me for my twelfth birthday six days earlier. Destiny Child’s new song Check On It was blaring through my headphones and I thought I was so cool. I pulled out lip gloss from my winter coat and applied it, the sound of the charm bracelet you gave me for my birthday was jingling as I glided the gloss across my mouth. I waited nervously for Hilary to run back to me telling me what you said in regards to my last response.

“He said he likes you too, and wants to go out with you,” Hilary said, sweat beading on her forehead from being the messenger for the past twenty minutes. I ripped the headphones from my ears to make sure I heard correctly.

“OH MY GOD,” I said back, wide eyed and excited, “Go tell him I say yes!” I saw Hil cringe at the idea of running all the way back across the playground, but being the loyal friend she was to us, she started running. When she returned with the news that it was completely official and everyone on the playground knew about it, I took off running and screaming at the top of my lungs in excitement. And then the bell rang and we all lined up to go back to class. You and I sat three desks away from each other. For the rest of the school day we didn’t speak to one another. We didn’t even look at each other.

That’s sixth grade for you.

Eleven days later I made you a CD for Christmas. You gave me nothing. But with only seven other boys in our grade I wasn’t giving you up any time soon. I guess I should point out this is probably my first mistake I made with a boy. I deserved a Christmas present. And you didn’t buy me one; you didn’t even make me a card. But, I swallowed my anger about it and just let it go. I shouldn’t have let it go.

Within the next six months, you and I talked on the phone a few times a week. I usually called you. To be honest, I don’t remember a time that you called me. I’d call that mistake number two. You should have called me. And instead of giving in and calling you, I should have saved my efforts for somebody else and told you goodbye. But I didn’t.

In all actuality, I only consider you to be #1 because of one thing; one date.

My first kiss; June 6th, 2006.

Our class took a field trip to Boston, and on the way home you put your arm around me on the bus. I remember becoming ultra aware of the warmth of your hand on my back, but it made my stomach do somersaults and my head feel light. I liked it. And just when I thought it couldn’t be any better, it did.

“I had a really great time with you today,” you said in the darkness.

“I did too,” I told you back.

“Paige...”

“What?” I froze.

“I love you.” Yes, we were twelve. Was it love? I don’t think so. But at the time I didn’t know what love was, and when someone says they love you, you believe them.

“I love you too,” I said back, after my heart started beating again. “It’s funny you said that,” I told you, “because I was just thinking that.”

“Wanna know what I was thinking?” This caught me off guard.

“What?” And then you did it. You leaned over, and pressed your lips against mine for two whole seconds. One Mississippi, Two Mississippi. I opened my eyes and the lights on the bus came on. My jaw dropped. I must have looked pretty stupid sitting there with my jaw basically on the floor and no words coming out of my mouth, but I couldn’t help it. You took my breath away.

That was our first, and only kiss. There was nothing monumental that occurred between us after this. Even though at the time I figured I would marry you, we broke up a few months later and never spoke much again throughout middle and high school. But, if for some reason you’re reading this, thank you for the kiss.

This is an excerpt from the book I am currently working on entitled 1-8. It is a memoir of each boy who has had a significant impact on me. There will be no names included in this story, but if you know me well enough, you know exactly who this is about.