I used to be quiet and shy. I didn't really like to talk a lot. But last year there was a boy. He was tall, at least taller than me. I would sometimes see him walk around alone and other times I would see him play basketball in the courtyard. I would walk by the courtyard with two of my best friends and stop to watch how he played. I wouldn't say it was mesmerizing because when he played he looked like a fish out of water but he was as graceful as a ballerina too. If you get what I mean. He was both and I think that's ok. I had four classes with him. History, science, math, and art. I don't know why but I looked forward to school every day so that I could see him.
We would talk. Mostly during art, my last period of the day with him. We would talk and laugh during that class and sometimes even get in trouble with the teachers. There were three other boys we would talk to during that class too. The boy would do his work during the art class while I would help the other boys out when they didn't understand how to do the work. He would tell me that I didn't have to help them if I didn't want to and that there was a teacher but I didn't mind. I liked helping. After all, I loved art and it felt nice to help them when they didn't understand. They thought I was weird for liking him but I didn't care. It felt nice.
One time we were talking about hair and who had the softest. He said his hair was the softest and let me touch it. Soft. I thought. Just like he said it was. It felt nice. His hair looked and felt like dog hair. Soft and fluffy. I loved looking at it. At the way it flopped when he sat down and the way, it would softly sit on his head like it weighed nothing. Sometimes it would stubbornly sit in front of his eyes and didn't like to move no matter how many times he brushed it away. But that was so long ago. Now, there are no more hands through hair or talking and laughing. There are no more art classes or even helping. Now, there's a distant memory of it all. Of my first real crush. A boy who stole my heart and had no memory of doing so.
