Song of my life

Chapter 1: The First

You know how I kinda sorta may have mentioned that I wasn't that great at the whole boys thing? Yeah, well it kinda all started in first grade.

The boy's name was Matt. I don't really remember how it started. All I remember is that towards the beginning of first grade, a new boy had started sitting at our lunch table.

What was weird was that our friend group wasn't popular in any way, and this boy was definitely popular material. In fact, we were probably the least popular of the 7 lunch groups. There were the popular boys, the jocks, the gamers and bad boys, the crazy girls, the popular girls, the one kid who occupied a table all by himself, and us. Nobody really knew what to make of us, but that was okay. If being ignored was the price of being able to do our own thing, then we said bring it.

Every day this boy (a.k.a. Matt) would sit with us, and he and I would chat about sports- mainly which team was better. I chose Red Sox versus his choice of the Yankees, the Patriots versus the Giants, the Celtics versus the Knicks, and the Bruins versus the Rangers. Neither of is really knew anything about the teams, so it basically turned into a my-team's-better-because-my-dad's-from-(insert Boston or New York City here) kind of debate.

My first real memory of him was when he made Thursdays "opposite day". You had to say the exact opposite of what you were going to say to be understood. Like I would have to say "I hate the Red Sox" to mean "I love the Red Sox".

So back to why Matt was so important: he was my first real crush. It was a really awkward feeling to have a crush in first grade. All that would really happen was I would feel a pulling sensation in my stomach when I saw him and immediately I would feel happy. When my friends (that were girls) and I would play tag, I would run to the basketball court where he was playing with the guys and he would always hide me from my friends, albeit unsuccessfully.

Then, on Valentine's Day, it happened.

No, we didn't kiss! I was 7 you dumbos, old enough to know that kissing a boy was gross (key word there is "was").  He asked me to be his Valentine, okay?

I thought it was the sweetest thing in the world at the time.  Matt even gave me a present: a plastic goldfish, just big enough for me to wrap my very tiny hands around.  See, I was born with really small hands and feet.  My 9-year-old brother has hands that are almost bigger than mine, and my feet are a size 6 1/2.  Pretty small for a 16-year-old girl, I know.  And the worst part is that my sister, who is two years younger than me, is a size 8 1/2...

Okay, sorry! I have a really big tendency to get off topic. Like this one time when... never mind, I'll start rambling again. Anyways, so yeah that just about sums up my first experience with a boy, so see you next chapter!!