Swinging from my family tree I climb and find myself a part of a brilliant legacy of men who never forgave, men who won't forget and never measure up
Fifth grade was a big year for Ashton. He noticed girls who noticed him. His mom worked as a childminder, which meant she was home a lot. She was there when Ashton got home, and she was there when he left.
His father on the other hand, he didn't see much. He would disappear in his car early in the morning for work and return home for dinner.
Ashton didn't have many friends in fifth grade. His only friend consisted of a boy his age, who had moved here from India a year ago. Elli still didn't speak much English, but Ashton didn't mind. It kept the loneliness, that had consumed his school life before, away.
He wasn't the most popular. And he was okay with that. As long as the other kids didn't bully him or said mean things. They didn't do that much anymore.
He had only been bullied one time when he was six. A girl one year younger than him had approached him on the playground, where he sat alone on a swing, because the other kids didn't play with him. She had squeezed his left thigh and commented on how big it was.
That was the first time Ashton became aware of his weight. A thing he hadn't paid any attention to in his life before. His big thighs simply meant that he could climb hills faster. And maybe his thighs were a big bigger than the other children's, and maybe he really loved to eat candy on a Friday and Saturday night, but Ashton had never thought that it made him... fat.
But fifth grade was better. He had a friend! And sometimes the girls would look at him and giggle. And Ashton wouldn't understand why. And he wasn't sure if he liked it.
