We’d just been seated and scattered in Mrs Macdonald’s class, and it was time to learn. Along the side of the rows and columns of seats, there was a girl. It was the type of seat that would have a 5 if second grade were minesweeper.
“How does it feel to be the only girl on this side of the class?”
‘I dunno.’
We were friends, somehow.
SA was a weird Italian girl with weird Italian friends with weird Italian last names. I didn’t really know what girls were, but i suppose her indifference enticed me.
We hung our coats near each other and said HI.
I wanted her. I didn’t know what for or what about, as those pieces and those urges were years from awakening. I suppose to play mario kart.
Over the course of the year, she asked for my phone number and kept losing it. I always asked, but she never explained why she wanted it so badly but couldn’t keep tabs on it.
One day she called me, as part of a dare. I didn’t have time to talk, or I might have invited her over to play some mario kart. I was good at mario kart. I was awful with girls.
Seventeen years later, little has changed.
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