Timothy

Write about your first crush.

I was in primary school when I had my first “crush”, a time when passing notes in class was a moment flushed with excitement. Did he like me too? All the girls said so, but it seemed too much to ask for.

He was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed dream. I, on the other hand, felt awkward and ugly in comparison. Though I was not shy like my best friend was, I didn’t have a great deal of confidence in my appearance.

Tim exuded confidence and was very smart in class. Before and after school we walked in separate groups, chatting merrily and laughing loudly to garner his attention. It seemed to work, and the boys would glance back at us, and then talk amongst themselves. This was all part of a well-choreographed plan of action. Keep his focus long enough to distract him from any of the other girls in class!

It didn’t take as long as I thought it would before Tim and I were walking home from school together and we had been rumoured to have held hands, which of course we hadn’t yet! That wouldn’t happen until much later on a school trip when everyone was watching, and he caught my hand in his. I felt like I was in a movie but I worried that my hands might be too sweaty or not relaxed enough. My heart was pounding out of my chest as we walked in step with one another across the parking lot towards the school bus. What would happen next, I wondered? Would we sit together on the bus? Had I brushed my teeth well enough so that my breath was fresh? All these thoughts were running through my mind as we climbed the steps onto the bus and he maneuvered me down to the coveted very back seats where prying eyes could no longer watch us!

Tim and I were an item for 2 years in primary school, all through grades 5 -7. We were the soap opera couple of the school. We would be happy, and I would look after his pool and cat while I pined for him when he was on vacation in Martha’s Vineyard. Then we would be dramatic and break up, all tears and some flirting with others to make things more painful for one another. The reunions were just as dramatic until the summer of grade 8 when I met a real young man, driving a yellow Vega with a black stripe down the middle. I met him while playing tennis against the school walls by myself. He was from Montreal and staying with his cousins. Was he too old for me? Very definitely. Did anyone in my family notice? Yes, my sister was outraged and tried to alert my parents to it, but they were focused on her drug and alcohol addiction and didn’t have the time to watch what I was doing. That summer I grew up quickly. I changed.

Things with Tim were never the same after that. I had outgrown him during that summer vacation and I moved on and he did too. But I’ll never forget that first crush or my very first kiss, but that is a whole other story.