I didn’t have the luck of being the first person you liked in our small town. Not that being first mattered in the grand scheme of things, but I remembered I was bothered by your crush and how frustrated I felt not knowing why.
It was an awkward year for me. I was noticing a lot of things I didn’t understand.
Like the way I stared at other girls. At first, I thought it was just because they were pretty. Beauty begged to be admired. Who could tear their eyes away from a symmetrical face, rosy lips, and glowing skin?
And that was only if I was looking at their heads.
Life was suddenly cluttered with distractions. I seemed to fill hours of my time stupidly staring at girls and it always took embarrassingly long for me to realize I was doing so.
“Nana. Earth to Nana,” you said, snapping me out of my trance.
I was doing it again. This time, a girl with caramel skin and gold hoops had my attention.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
You shook your head, an amused smile playing on your lips. “I was just saying that I thought Michael was cute.”
That was the difference between you and me. You liked boys. Girls too, as I would find out later, but I didn’t feel the same. But in that uncomfortable year, I still thought I liked boys. They just seemed deeply unremarkable by comparison.
There was nothing about them that I wanted to say, but everyone talked about boys that year, especially you. I was careful not to give an opinion on any of them, or at least give an opinion that no one agreed with. When asked about any crushes I had, I always said it was a secret.
That annoyed you, but it kept the questions away. I knew I would get weird looks if I said I liked no boy at all.
“You’re not the only one who likes him,” I replied.
That was a well-known fact. Michael Blanc had the attention of half the girls in our year. Every time I heard about him, he had a different girlfriend. He was a tanned blond, just like you, but beyond that, I saw nothing appealing. Maybe it was his swagger or the way he seemed friendly with everyone. I could only guess why everyone fawned over him.
“I want to ask him out.” Your eyes widened in excitement.
“So does everyone else,” I pointed out. “Besides, he’s got a new girlfriend this week. I see them kissing in front of class all the time.”
“He’ll have a different girlfriend next week,” you pressed forward, undeterred. “There’s no reason why it can’t be me.”
I pursed my lips, unsure of what to say. There was a rumor going around that his girlfriend was cheating on him, but I took those words with a grain of salt. Michael may have been your flavor of the week, but by next Monday, you would like someone else.
“I’ll wait for the right moment,” you continued. “She’ll break up with him soon.”
You didn’t have to sink so low if you wanted a boyfriend so badly. There were other guys you could have liked, ones that were properly single. I would even make a better boyfriend than all of them.
But before I could tell you that, I saw Evan approaching our table. He took a seat across from me, placing his tray in front of mine.
“Go away,” I said immediately. Ever since the events of the summer, my opinion of him soured. His bullying before his attempt to drown me was bad enough, but now I couldn’t tolerate him.
“Let me sit with you beautiful ladies,” he said diplomatically. “I promise I won’t be a bother.”
“Your entire existence is a bother. Consider dying to make my life better.”
You gave me a pointed look. “What Nana means to say is that she doesn’t forgive you for what you did during the summer. Come back when you’re ready to apologize. We’ll consider letting you sit with us if you learn to behave.”
He stood up, nodding along to what you said. “I’ll think about it. Thank you, Elle.”
At least that got rid of him. I picked at my lunch, a plain ham and cheese sandwich I suddenly no longer had the appetite for.
“He likes you.”
I recoiled at your observation. “Ew. No. You’re seeing things. He was looking at you that summer, remember?”
“Don’t you think he’s cute? Like in a bad boy sort of way? Some of the girls think so,” you teased.
I wished we could stop talking about boys. “He’s ugly. I hope you’re wrong about him being interested in me.”
“So you’d never give him a chance.”
I shuddered with revulsion. “Not in a million years.”
“What if I want you to come on a double date with me? Would you go out with him then?”
I rolled my eyes. “There are other options.” I thought about the girl I was staring at earlier.
“What if I let you choose my date?”
Now that piqued my interest. “Did Evan put you up to this?” Even so, letting me choose who you dated was something I would have never dreamed of hearing.
“No, but I think it’s time we try dating. Don’t you think we deserve to have a love life?”
We could date each other, but I don’t think that’s what you mean. You wanted a boyfriend because everyone else had boyfriends. It was no different than getting the latest handbag or smartphone.
At the moment, boyfriends were fashionable and you wanted us to be cool. I’ve told you several times that we didn’t need them, but there was no way around it.
“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend,” you always replied.
But you were also eager to date for other reasons. Well, one other reason, and her name was Tiffany Sloane.
There was an informal hierarchy in our year that ranked the girls in every class. Of the ten girls in our class, you were considered the third most attractive, an impressive ranking that kept your locker flooded with Valentine’s Day cards every year.
I was middling, hovering between fifth and seventh depending on the day. Before you came, I was dead eighth and occasionally even tenth because of the way I dressed and kept to myself.
Tiffany Sloane was ninth. She was ninth when we started our freshmen year and she stayed ninth because she didn’t care about the rankings.
It wasn’t that she was ugly. If someone had asked for my honest opinion, I would have said that she was a perfectly average-looking girl, the kind of person your eyes would skip over because of how ordinary she was. But she had an unfortunate riot of acne on her face and she entered our sophomore year a smidge overweight. If she were cooler, maybe she would rank a point or two higher.
Yet last period, we found out she had a boyfriend. I thought it was good that she was less lonely than she seemed. You thought you saw a threat to your third-place spot.
Not that Tiffany would ever care enough to replace you, but seeing her get a boyfriend before you made you anxious.
I hated seeing you unhappy. It was bad enough that you lowered yourself to thinking that you had to date someone who already had a relationship to keep an arbitrary ranking. But to witness you consumed in misery over it was almost unbearable.
I agreed with your crazy plan. If it meant that you would stop acting like this, then it was worth it.
Although it pleased you, picking your date wasn’t easy. I wanted to avoid choosing Michael so I listed off your past crushes. You were disenchanted with every one of them, to say the least.
“What about Chad?”
You shook your head. “I don’t like the way he smells.”
“John?”
“Too short,” you said quickly.
“Harry?” By now, I was tired of listing names. But I purposely chose someone you hadn’t told me about before.
You’ve never fancied him, judging by the puzzled look on your face, yet it’s not a thoughtless choice on my part even if it seems out of the blue.
Even though I would later find out that I only liked girls, I did pay attention to the boys. There were ten of them in our class and they were also ranked the same way the girls were even if the numbers changed more frequently. I kept track of them not only to stay updated with the gossip but also to see which ones were truly kind.
Harry was fourth. Sometimes he was third, swapping places with his best friend Walter in the same way Michael and Chad took turns being first. But no matter where he ranked, he was always nice.
At least he never took part in the bullying. He was friendly regardless of what others thought of me. He looked cute at certain angles and he was definitely tall enough for your standards.
If I was straight, maybe I’d have feelings for someone like that, but it was weird to consider. It was enough that he was the resident big friendly giant of our class.
Regardless, you liked who I picked. We asked out the boys and set a date.
At the time, I was uncomfortable with the arrangements. While dating boys felt like something I was supposed to do, it hardly seemed like something I wanted to do. But later, the experience would bring us closer together.
I would do it again to bring you back, even if it didn’t feel right.
