june and the blond boy

April 8th, 1974

"no, you distracted me." he crossed his arms over his chest.

"you distracted yourself." i retorted. "if you weren't so bothered by me—" i pointed a finger to my chest. "—maybe you could've won."

"maybe you could've won, meh meh meh." he mocked in a high pitched voice.

"fine, round two." i lifted my chin in the air.

so we went on to play a round two.

i won.

"what the hell?!" he groaned, stomping a foot on the ground.

"hey, you can't say that word."

"i can say whatever i want." he stomped away.

"jimmy lost to a girl!" one of his friends laughed, pointing a finger at him. he yelled over his shoulder "my names not jimmy!" before disappearing inside the school.

around the same time the next day, i went back to that spot, offering a redemption to the boy, but he and his friends weren't there.

i shrugged and made my way over to the swings, but stopping abruptly at the feeling of a tug on my braids. "ow!" i grumbled, turning around to see that boy and his friends running away while giggling.

i shook my head and walked in their direction, tugging on his stupid blond locks. "jerk!" i spat, turning and stomping away as he turned and gave me a glare.

the next day was saturday, which meant no school. great. i didn't have to deal with that puke-head and his friends.

i was in my room drawing— attempting to draw the Queen II album cover when there came a knock on my bedroom door. "hm?" i hummed.

my mother opened the door. "honey, we're having dinner with the neighbors tonight. put on one of your nice dresses."

"okay." i sighed, leaving my desk and rummaging through the closet. i decided i'd wear a skirt instead, simply to annoy my mother, and because i didn't like dresses as much.

"ready, mama!" i jumped down the last step of the staircase, my sandals making a smack sound on the hard floor. "oh, you look beautiful honey!" my mother said as she put her earrings on.

i thanked her shyly and admired my mothers beauty.

even in the darkness and the troubles, my mother was there with her long blonde curls and beautiful personality that i wished to have one day. i already had the curls, unfortunately. though i didn't like them, my mom told me one day i'd love my curls as much as her, to which i replied "i couldn't love anything or anyone more than you, mama!" and planted a kiss on her cheek. "i'm sure you'll love someone more than me one day." she replied. i ignored the lump that formed in my throat at the thought of ever choosing anyone over her.

"come on, let's go." she smiled, holding her hand out to me, but i refused, deciding i was independent enough to walk myself.

thank god i didn't accept her hand, because when she knocked on our neighbors door, the person i dreaded stood behind it.

well, behind his mother.

the blond boy.

he didn't even tried to hide his disappointment as he dropped his hands from behind his back and slumped his shoulders.

"oh, hello! i'm cynthia, it's so lovely to finally meet you." the tall woman greeted my mother, then looked down at me. "you must be june! you go to school with james, right?" she crouched down a bit to meet my gaze.

"yeah." i frowned.

unfortunately.

she furrowed her brows a bit at the look on my face before she stood up. "i'm sorry we couldn't meet sooner. james was a little nerv—"

"mommm!" he groaned, tugging on her shirt.

"alright, alright." she laughed.

my mother introduced us then we went in for dinner.

"where's your dad?" james blurted with a mouthful.

"james!" his mother whisper-yelled.

"excuse him, he's having a hard time coping with..." she trailed off. my mother nodded in understanding.

"where's yours?" i snapped back, dropping my fork on my plate with a clash. "june." my mother raised an eyebrow at me.

"mine left." he said.

"james... we don't have to go dumping our dirty laundry everywhere." cynthia chuckled awkwardly.

"oh, don't even worry. i'm sure we've got the dirtiest laundry in town." my mom waved her off with a laugh.

"so did mine." i responded to james, looking down at my food.

our mothers shared a look of 'wanna talk about it later?' and they both nodded.

cynthia and my mom led the conversation throughout dinner, occasionally mentioning us to which we'd mumble a 'yeah'.

dinner finally came to an end. cynthia walked us out the door with a dish of leftovers which my mother accepted gratefully.

james ran down the driveway and tapped on my shoulder as we walked on the sidewalk toward our house. i stopped walking and turned around, feeling my cheeks heat up a bit as he looked at my skirt and grinned.

"your dress is ugly."

i scoffed. "it's a skirt, not a dress, stupid."

"whatever." he shrugged, trudging back up to his house.

"yeah? well your hair is ugly! it makes you look like a girl!" i shouted back up to him before getting pulled away by my mother.

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