Crush

This is a true story. I tried to recount it as accurately as I could. Enjoy.)

I am seven years old. Pigtails and ruffled polka-dotted skirts are my fashions of choice. My impossibly young age has not stopped me from falling in love with an older man. He’s nearly ten years old, and I’m a mere seven. The age difference seems a problem that is insurmountable and slightly absurd. But he is in my daydreams, regardless. Brian Rogers. He’s just so cute.

He’s coming over today. To MY house. To play on MY slip ‘n’ slide. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

Oh! Here he is, with his mom and two brothers. Here he is, blond hair flopping and a toothy grin that makes my heart nearly stop beating. Here he is, holding a box of Oreos, my favorite. How had he known? I beam at him and skip outside, beckoning him--all of them--to follow.

Before I know it, we’re watching Mom turn on the sprinkler and position the slide. We’re wearing our swimsuits. We’re ready. Brian makes the first move—my brave, adorable Brian—and rushes down the yellow slide, dropping to his knees and skidding into the grass. I clap my hands in enthusiasm. The rest of us need no more coaxing. We run, squeal, fall, dive, scrape, slide, scream our way through a hot summer afternoon. I try to catch Brian’s eye every now and then, but mostly I just enjoy playing with him.

Smack! It feels like someone has smashed a hammer into my forehead. I clutch my throbbing head and crumple to the ground, sure that I’m on my deathbed. I open my eyes slightly to see Brian staggering and stumbling his way to his mom. And then I know. Brian and I have accidentally slammed into each other, in exchange for bruises and very sore heads. How very romantic! Amidst my pain, I nearly swoon from pleasure at this realization. I had touched heads with Brian Rogers! This was more than I had ever hoped for or even wanted. Soon, though, my head hurts too much to let me relish this moment. I crawl toward my mom, furiously blinking away the tears, wanting to appear just as strong and brave as Brian and failing miserably. He’s already back on the slip ‘n’ slide. I sit with our moms, enduring the exclamations of pity and distress at my head wound. I lightly touch my forehead and wince at the pain. Inside, I’m thrilled. Who else can say that Brian Rogers gave them a big black bruise? No one, that’s who. Only me, lucky ol’ me.

Today was a perfect day.