Remembering

I was walking. I was just… walking. I was walking, walking, walking, walking, and walking until I thought I could walk no more. And then I stopped. I looked around me, at the massive field used for school sports. No one at MY school used it for sports, of course. The school across from it did. That school had all the sports teams, and the orchestras, and the classes. There, being smart was a good thing, and honors classes were expected.1

I used to be a part of that.2

I used to be in the honors program for “special” kids. I was one of the school district's, no, the STATE’S, trophies that showed off how accomplished they were. They wanted to flaunt how their students learned faster, were better and more intelligent than all the rest. They made us spend hours after school and on the weekends working on complex projects and essays just to keep us working so we could prove our worth. So I quit. I couldn’t take the stress, and I wanted to do something more important with my life. So instead of going to THAT high school with everyone else, I went to the alternative school across the street that would let me study whatever field I wanted. For that, my friends abandoned me. They didn’t bother to call or even try to stay in contact – they just left me be, looking down on me and not caring enough to answer my calls. Some friends they were.3

For some reason, I was wandering their field. It had been a year, and their shiny new building had finished renovating. I was walking, just walking along the field on the day before school started. Tomorrow, I would see all my old friends on the city bus. They would glance at me, perhaps wave or choke out an awkward “hello” and continue ignoring me like they had for the past year. Then I would “get over” them once again and rejoin my new, much more loyal friends for our school year that would end up being significantly more fun and life changing than those of the students across the street.4

A chilly breeze swept by me, convincing me to take shelter inside the dugout of the baseball field, where I would be at least slightly more shielded from the wind. It was much too cold for September, and quite frankly, I was sick of the cold weather in my town. Would the torment never end?5

Just as I started brooding over the unnaturally bitter weather, I heard footsteps behind me. When I turned around, I was shocked to find myself face to face with someone I never thought I would speak to again. “Sean?”6

“Oh, um…” He stuttered a bit, seemingly as surprised as me. “Hi, Amy,” he mumbled.7

“Hi,” I replied softly, aware that my face was turning red. Sean had always been a crush of mine back in middle school. We had grown up together, but we hadn’t seen each other for years when I changed schools. After that, we never really talked. But sometimes he would give me these little looks, like he didn’t think I wasn’t worth talking to, with him being a kind of soccer jock and all. And I would love it when he would take my side in class when everyone else didn’t think I knew what I was talking about (of course, I did, and Sean was just smart enough to realize that, but no matter). Still, I never really gave much thought to it. He pretty much ignored me most of the time, like the rest of the “popular” crowd.8

But now, he was actually paying attention to me. “So, what’re you doing here?” he asked somewhat awkwardly. It was apparent that he had no idea how to start a conversation with me anymore. “I heard that you were going to school over there. Guess everyone’s going to be pretty psyched that they’re gonna see you again.”9

“Probably not,” I retorted bitterly, “but thanks for trying.” I then made an attempt to be less malevolent to my fellow conversationalist. “Anyway, how’s soccer going? You going to win this year?”10

“You bet we are!” Sean boasted, loosening up enough to walk around the fence and sit next to me on the dugout bench. “What about you? Any extra curricular stuff? Are you still taking Japanese?”11

At this last part, I grimaced. “I’m muddling through the Japanese with self study. I took the assessment test last week, and hopefully I’ll end up in Japanese II at your school.”12

“Well, then I guess I’ll be seeing more of you this year,” he noted, smiling. “I’ve missed you since you left.” This, of course, struck a nerve.13

“Excuse me?” I spat, majorly ticked off. “You spent your last years in middle school with me ignoring me like your life depended on it. And NOW you miss me?”14

Sean winced, realizing he had made a mistake. Still, he didn’t take it back. “I know I was a jerk, but it’s not like I didn’t notice you,” he amended, his hand lingering dangerously close to mine. “Hell, I don’t think there’s a person in school who didn’t notice you if they had ever heard a word come out of your mouth.”15

“What on earth are you talking about?” I demanded exasperatedly, utterly confused.16

“Well…” It was clear that Sean was grasping for words. I wasn’t really in the mood at the time, so I glared at him as a signal for him to spit it out. “It’s just, you were so NICE to everyone – and not the kind of fake-y nice that most people use. You were genuinely nice to everyone you met. Well, except Evan…” He trailed off at this, giving me an amused look and a short shrug. “Still, you were all caring and stuff, and everybody liked you. Even the ones who were so stuck up they couldn’t see straight.”17

“Not Vanessa,” I muttered under my breath, glowering darkly at the chain link fence in front of me.18

Furrowing his brow, Sean leaned a little closer. “What?”19

“Nothing,” I said hurriedly, sitting up in a most abrupt fashion.20

Sean just smiled serenely at me. “You’re peculiar, you know? In a good way,” he added hastily, noticing my raised eyebrow.21

I smiled back, flushed both from the cold weather and embarrassment. “Thanks,” I responded quietly, ducking my head.22

Suddenly, I felt warmth surround me. Out of nowhere, Sean had gotten the strange idea to hug me. But it was comfortable, he was warm, and I was feeling just a little lightheaded for some reason, so I hugged him back. We stayed like that for a while. I sat there, wrapped in his arms, breathing in his unique scent. He smelled of cinnamon, grass, and something else that was purely Sean. Despite my earlier anger, I felt that there was nowhere else I would rather be. Maybe it was that he was the last connection I had to my old life. Or maybe it was something else entirely.23

It wasn’t until I felt Sean’s lips press softly in a kiss against my forehead that I awoke from my daze. I looked up at him, finally realizing the look he was giving me. It was the look that I always noticed in middle school during science class when he would turn his head my way. It was that fond look that I could never quite place. But now I could.24

“So…” Sean spoke deliberately as if approaching a very important topic. “How does lunch tomorrow sound?”25

I admit that I had to stifle laughter at that question. “I hate to break it to you, but the closest thing we have to lunch around here besides the school cafeteria is instant ramen from AMPM.”26

“I’ll treat you to a cup of freeze dried noodles, then. Does your school have a microwave? And more importantly, would you be willing to sit through lunch with me outside in the cold?”27

“Yes and yes. I would love to.”