It’s recess at 12:00. I’m in 6th grade playing with my girl friends. We’re hanging all over the monkey bars, and flying higher than kites on the swings. I’m laughing at everything, and I don’t know why; I’m just genuinely happy. I realized a 6th grade girl doesn’t have to have a care in the world to be happy. Why should I care about other things? I have everything I need. It was then when I noticed I cared for everyone, all the time, and a little more than I should. Sitting at the edge of the field alone, was a new kid. He wore dark jeans and a plain white V-neck shirt, his hair was darker than night, and when he turned to notice two girls that had screamed at bug, you could see his glorious green eyes even from so far away. Why was he alone? What was his deal? I was always a shy girl, but something came over me that day. I got off my swing and made my way toward him. I stood behind him for two minutes before saying anything.
“Hello,” I started. I had planned our conversation in my head so I wouldn’t stutter and sound like an idiot. “My name is Alesha, what’s yours?” I asked. As he turned around, those big green eyes stared into my brown ones. I tensed up, I felt my heart beat faster, I felt my pupils dilate, and I got butterflies in my stomach; the similar ones my friend’s sister told me about at a sleepover once.
“Um, hi. My name is Matthew. Nice to meet you,” he said. His voice was soft and sincere; I never heard one like it. I was so caught up at looking and pondering every aspect of him that I forgot to reply to him. I had to be staring at him for five minutes before he interrupted my stare. "Are you alright?" He asked.
"Yes," I replied as I snapped out of my gaze. Embarrassed, I started to apologize frantically. I went to walk away when he ran after me and took my hand; my heart stopped.
“Please don’t go. You’re cute, and I’d like to have a friend in this school,” he said. I felt a huge smile spread across my face. Him, this kid who must think I’m one big idiot for starring, wanted to be my friend. I said yes of course. That friendship turned into best friends, which then turned into my first relationship. My one and only 6th grade romance was going to be the start of something big.
It was a warm day in the middle of June, despite the rain. It caused the faintest mist right outside my window, and blurred my pink and yellow flowers placed on the balcony. I was sitting on my bed, staring outside while I listened to Panic! At The Disco. Brendon Urie’s voice was soothing, and only fueled my thoughts more. These thoughts, racing at 1,000 miles per hour through my head, and about the craziest things! One minute, I was thinking about the color and chemicals used for the dark green nail polish that was so freshly painted on my fingers and toes you could still smell the fumes .The next, I was thinking about the skeletal structure of ants. Ants! Dare I say it, me, 10th grade girl Alesha was still learning about ants. Why learn about these pointless little bugs? What happened to the old days where high school students learned about dissection or reproduction? Hm, there I go again, rambling. I went on for an hour thinking of whatever I could, and whatever my brain knew. Until one moment, where all the subjects, all the questions, everything came to a screeching halt.
I began to think of Matthew. Matthew, on a need-to-know basis, was my neighbor for 14 years until he moved from our apartment building in New York City to a gated community in Palm Springs, California. It’s been a year since he crossed my mind, a year since our relationship ended due to distance. The day is June 7th, and it is what would have been our 4-year anniversary. Wow, a whole year since I didn’t think of his big green eyes, beautiful black hair that hung lightly over his eyes, his tan skin, his medium toned voice, and his perfect 5’9 height. Pretty lovey dovey stuff, I know. That’s my problem. Me, 5’6, brown eyed, dark red auburn hair that fell down my back and hung swept over my right eye, still loved him. Loved him with all my heart. We “dated’ in the 6th grade around December, ended in January, and got back together in June. Specifically the 7th. It was steady sailing from then on. I miss him now more then ever, and I don’t know why. Why now? What was the big deal about today? I’ve missed him before, but not like this. I had the weirdest feeling. I went about my day, while I kept it in the back of my mind.
Around 4 that evening, I was back laying in bed watching The Notebook. Probably the sappiest, cutest love story ever. Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams made the perfect couple. I was about to see my favorite part when I heard a knock on the door. Groaning, I paused it and went to answer. I answered the door to a 5’9 boy with big green eyes and black hair. It was Matthew. What was he doing here?
“Hey,” he said. He stood with hands in his A Day To Remember hoodie.“Hi,” I said in a shocked voice. Was he really here? We stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. The silence was unreal. He removed his hands and took hold of mine, and then he started again, “So, I want all of you, forever, you and me, everyday.” Those very words were the words from the movie I had just paused. It was my favorite line and my favorite scene. It’s like he planned every detail of my day, and came in at this moment only to bring tears to my eyes. I felt my eyes water, and a tear from my left eye start to run down my cheek. I was smiling as he wiped it away with his pointer finger that he had curved into a C shape. I threw my arms around his neck and stood there for 10 minutes, just hugging him.
I invited him in afterwards, and we spent the rest of the day together. He came in, and finished the movie with me. Then we left my apartment for gelato from the vending cart one block down and around the corner. We were holding hands so tight, but I didn’t mind. I loved it; I loved this moment; I loved him. We walked in Times Square and Central Park. Then we lay on the ground near a fountain, and looked up at the top of the skyscrapers talking about anything and everything. Around 11:00 PM, we were back at the apartment. I went to press the 7th button (for the 7th floor) but he stopped me.
“What are you doing?” I asked. I giggled as I did so which made him smile. “I’ve got a surprise, he said. You’re going to love it.” I started to get anxious, and I couldn’t help but smile. He pressed the 15th floor, and we went all the way up. He then took me by the hand, and dragged me through the fire exit door. We then ran up the stairs, he pulled out a key, and opened the door to the rooftop. We came here all the time when we were little and before he moved. Out there was an acoustic guitar, sheet music, a lime green bean bag chair, and a single rose. He led me to the chair and sat me down. He picked up the guitar, handed me the rose, and arranged the sheet music. He began to play the song “I Wouldn’t Mind” by He Is We, and he sang. I sat there, staring at the sky, listening to him. I had never felt so perfect. I was in love with him, and I knew it.
A few minutes went by and he finished, and then he said, “Oh, this isn’t it.” I was shocked. “What more could you possibly do for me?” Again, he took my head, led me down the stairs. He then went to room 1576, and took a key out of his front right pocket.
“Whose place is this?” I asked. “Mine.” he said with a smile. Him and his family had moved back to New York, and back to the same building. “Do you remember when I said I would find my way back to you?” he asked. “Yes.” My voice trembled with excitement. “Well, this is it. I’m back, and I want you back with me, if you’ll have me.” I screeched, and he covered my mouth with his hand. We both laughed.
“Yes, I’ll have you. You’ve been gone too long.” With those our last words for the night, he took my hand and showed me around. We were in the gaming room watching Lilo and Stitch on his Xbox, and I fell asleep in his arms.
The rest of the summer went by relatively well. We hung out everyday, walked all over the city and central park, and rarely ever let go of each other. It was, in fact, a summer romance. One of the best at that.
School was just around the corner. I had gone shopping for clothes and school supplies, so I was set and ready. I was at home, after a long day of walking, lying on the couch when I got a text from Matthew. It’s been a week since we’ve talked because of an argument. Over the stupidest thing too! Mind you, I did still love him, but when he made fun of me for my weight when I was younger, I still got upset. It’s just not something you do! I hesitantly picked up my phone, and read the text.
“Hey, Alesha. I’m really sorry. I never should have done that; I was stupid. I really miss you. You’re beautiful, and I’m sorry for hurting you. You don’t have to reply if you don’t want, but I’d like to apologize in person. Meet me on the roof at 8:20? I love you, bye.” Thinking back to the situation and how mad I was, I realized I should let it go. It was a while ago, and he had made a mistake. I checked the time, and it was 8:17. If I wanted to make up with him, I’d have to go now. After a swift thirty seconds of thought, I grabbed my Jack Sparrow hoodie, slipped it over my tank top, and shot out the door. I made my way up to the 15th floor, and up the fire escape exit to see the roof door propped open with a large grey stone. I looked down at my watch, and it was 8:20 exactly. Where was he? I’m just being impatient. I heard guitar strums on the other side of the rooftop, and went to go find him.
“Hello. I really want to apologize for over reacting. I’ve missed you too. It’s just, a self-conscious thing, you know? I love you,” I said. He looked at me with those eyes and guitar in hand, and I melted all over again.
“You shouldn’t be apologizing, babe. It was me. I wrote you this song. I don’t expect it to make things better,” he said, “but I’ll give it a shot.” It made everything better. His voice mixed with the smooth sounds of the guitar never failed to take my breath away.
After that, we were back to normal. No fights, no arguments, no silent treatment, perfect relationship. I hung out with him and his friends, and he did the same with mine. We were back to spending every second we could with each other except for when he had his study group. Until one day, when I hadn’t seen him in four days. He had a big French exam coming up, so he was studying very hard. I was proud of him, but I missed him. I figured I could go visit him for at least a few minutes, and bring him some fresh lemonade mom and I had made. She’s been really stressed since dad left with that co-worker lady, so she just cooks and makes a lot of different things. I help with her as much as possible because I know it makes her smile.
“Mom, I’ll be right back. I’m taking a pitcher of lemonade up to Matt. Be back in a few!” I yelled to her before I left. I walked down the hall to the elevator and pressed floor 15. Once off, I went and knocked on the door. His mother answered.
“Oh, hello dear! I assume you’re looking for Matt?” She asked with a smile on her face. His mom had always liked me, which made me feel proud for whatever reason. “Yes, ma’am.” I replied. The same smile on my face. “He’s up on the rooftop with his study partner. I’m sure he’d be delighted if you popped in for a visit,” she said. She was always so unbelievably nice.
I made my way down the hall to the exit sign when I turned and heard her yell, “Be sure to make him save me some of that lemonade!” With a laugh, I shouted back, “I will!” and went through the exit door and up the stairs. The door was once again propped open, so I just went through. I was looking for him, but didn’t see him. Then once again I heard his guitar strums. How cute, he was taking a break and showing someone how to play guitar.
When I turned the corner to the other side of the roof that was not the case. There he was, my Matthew, strumming and playing guitar for the “popular” girl in our grade as she sat there with a rose. I hid behind a large metal structure so they didn’t catch me. He had played the same song that he played for me after the fight! That two timing liar, how dare he play me like that! I continued to watch them. He finished the song, and they kissed. They kissed! Outraged, I came out from behind the structure. He looked at me with a shocked impression, as did she.
“What on Earth do you think you’re doing with her? Did I mean nothing to you? Why would you cheat on me like this?” My voice trembled, and I felt tears start to swell up in my eyes. She looked at me with a smirk, and I felt them begin to fall down my cheeks. I stood there silently waiting for a reply, looking back at forth at both of them.
“Babe,” he began. Babe? Babe! Don’t “babe” me. I was amazed. She had the same expression I did, which made me feel relieved and upset at the same time. She had no right to be offended, he was mine first! Though, she was cheated on none the less than I.
“I am going through a rough time. I thought you were going to leave me any day now. I just had a plan going, a back up. I never meant this to hurt you,” he said. Oh, that makes sense. Why would cheating hurt my feelings? I was staring at him...how naive! At this point, she began to yell.
“I was just a plan? I never meant anything to you? You’d rather have her as your number one and me a back up? You have got to be kidding me!” She was furious, and crying. She was not at all attractive when she cried, which made me giggle. (Rude, I know, but it was true.)
“I really don’t see the problem. Back in California,” he began. I gave him a look of “Are you seriously going to blame this on that?” Apparently, the message got through. He stopped talking.
“California has got nothing to do with cheating. I don’t care if you date 80 girls at a time out there. Here, you said it was you and me, and I believed you. You can be with her, I’m done!” I stormed out. I kicked the lemonade I left over by the structure on the ground and the glass shattered. I stood there, silently thinking and replaying everything that had just happened. I started to bawl my eyes out, right there on the roof. I ran down the exit stairs to the elevator, and out the elevator to my apartment. I shot through the door and fell onto my bed. I had a thousand thoughts racing through my head, and yet I couldn’t steadily think about one. In 10th grade, love is pointless. As pointless as it was in 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. It took all of two months until I was okay, then I decided something. II was going to get over this, and I was going to be happy. I was going to be me. Loveless and all.