Belle 7: The Memory

I sat in my room sobbing, remembering the first week we knew each other. Of course the first hour was awkward, but after that all we wanted to do was play with each other. I remember every second of it.

The first day his mother made us go play outside where we played Peter Pan. He wanted to be Captain Hook and fight me as Peter Pan. We mocked each other sword fighting with sticks in the field, then ran when we wanted to fly over Neverland.

Then the next day we went into the forests surrounding the field to pick up pretty colored leaves that fell from the autumn trees. We ended up finding an old swing that fit both of us. We went back and forth daring each other to jump. That was the first time ever held hands. We jumped off into a huge pill of leaves, laughing like we couldn’t stop. I threw leaves at him which started a war on leaf-throwing.

The next day was a rainy day, but he came over to my house and played in the basement all day. We found my box of markers. We went up to a mirror on the door and started drawing all over our faces like at the fairs. Then Brody wanted to draw a picture of me doing ballet �" all I knew was what I saw in movies.

And after my mom cleaned our faces off, we went out and played in the mud puddles around the farm for hours and let the rain wash us off a little bit before running around the house. We’d normally end up sleeping in either of our beds.

I can’t remember a summer where I didn’t spend every single day with Brody. He’s in very memory I have of my childhood. I grew-up loving him and all I want to do now is grow old loving him, too.

Unfortunately there are flaws in that; he’s seen me get in trouble with my parents and do probably the most embarrassing things. I remember the first time he ever saw the difference between girls and boys, and ever since then I have refused to own a string bikini. Of course, I didn’t discover the difference until middle school health class. I never looked at Brody the same way after finding out the difference.

And it was our luck to have the same health class, which wasn’t really supposed to happen since I was eleven (sixth grade) and he was thirteen (eighth grade), but my schedule got screwed up and couldn’t be changed so I was the only sixth grader in the eighth grade health class; thank God we only had one semester of it in middle school all three years.

Brody kept a very close eye on me in health class and thought it’d be a good idea to sit with me . . . bad idea during the sex unit. This was right after him and I kissed that summer, and all the teacher kept saying was kissing leads to more than you bargain for.

Metaphorically, she was right; literally, untrue.

But of course, I had just started to develop so when we were learning about the female anatomy, he couldn’t stop looking at my chest. Curse my mom for her fast developing genes. Although, who am I to judge, I looked straight at his pants the second they started showing us pictures of the male anatomy.

It would’ve been so much easier to handle if we weren’t in the same class. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with both of us learning about our differences right in front of each other. I don’t very much enjoy knowing what he goes through, nor do I want him knowing about what I go through. But we saw each other develop just like the book said we would.

And it kills me knowing that he could possibly be experimenting with those emotions our health teacher talked about, with Miranda. I always thought we’d be each other’s firsts: first kiss, first ‘I love you’, first ‘tender’ touch . . . first time . . . and so on . . . reality hurts when one person is able to ruin your life because they think it’s funny.

I couldn’t handle this and I couldn’t bear to hurt him just so I don’t hurt . . . and that’s why I said good-bye . . . hopefully not forever . . .