Our feet scuffed the dirty, white, linoleum floor as we trudged back inside after what I consider to be first date. Our hands gripped the others’ tight, anticipating my leaving. We parked ourselves on the little circle seats that were our cafeteria tables. I leaned against the pillar behind us while he jammed out, lost in his music. I snatched his phone and headphones so we could talk before my game.

I recollected a question he had asked me a few days prior. He had said, “Only a six? Why not a ten? Your self-love should definitely be a ten.”

“Remember, a few weeks ago, when you asked me why my self-love wasn’t a ten?” I asked him.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Well…”
He encouraged me to go on.
“Well, the reason it’s not is because when I was younger I was bullied incessantly about my weight. Plus, I had glasses which didn’t help much.”

“Even though I know it, I can’t believe that anyone would be tempted to bully someone as wonderful as you.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t always look this hot.”

That produced laughter from him.
“I was bullied, as well,” he said. “You know that. Be glad you never had your head dunked in the toilet all the while calling you horrific names pertaining to your weight.”

“I know. It’s just, even years later, you still hang on to the things they called you. Years later, it still hurts. Years later, you still believe those things.”

“You can’t let them control your life anymore. As I shouldn’t. I’m a hypocrite. I still haven’t gained full control, and you are right. The words still hurt.”

“I know that. I can’t wait for the day when I’ve achieved everything I’ve wanted and can say I told you so to all those bullies. It’s just so hard to stop believing those words, and that a day will come when they will be totally meaningless. Every time I look in the mirror I see that forty pound overweight eight year old.”

“But you’re not that girl anymore.”

“I feel like I am though.” I pulled up my t-shirt and poked my stomach.

He put his hand over mine and lowered my shirt. “You’re beautiful on the inside as well as on the outside. And as I’ve already told you about a million times, I’d love you if you had a pizza face. I’d love you if you were bald. And I’d love you even if you were five hundred pounds.”

“Thank you. I know you would, but it’s hard to forget.”

“Yes, it is. But you, we all, have to push through it.”

“I know. Why is it so difficult to get past little words that are just that, words?”

“I don’t know, and I wish I did. If only to get you to stop feeling like this toward yourself. I want to feel on the inside the way that I see you, and everyone else sees you.”

“Eventually I will be able to get past all the hurtful things that I was called as a child, and I think I may be starting to, but as you see it’s taken almost eight years for the hurt to start fading.”

“I just wish you didn’t feel this way about yourself,” he said.

“I’m working on it.”

“We both should.”

He nodded in agreement.
“People are just mean.”

He nodded once more.

“I sometimes wonder what would have happened if my mom wouldn’t have been taken from me. She’s in a better place, and I can’t begrudge her that, but in a way meant to be totally unselfish, I had so many more opportunities, especially the chance to lose the weight I needed to.”

“Good. I’m glad you did,” he said.

I smiled. A few minutes passed.

“But, I also got down to a weight that left me being skin and bones. Ribs, spine, hips—all protruding. My entire spine showed when I bent over. My shoulder blades jutted out. All that anyone saw on me was bone. A family friend who is a nurse had to tell my parents I was too skinny. As I’ve gained weight since then, those memories of my early childhood return, and I feel so fat and uncomfortable.”

“Baby,” he said. “You are not fat. In fact you are the furthest thing from it. Nor are you too skinny. You are perfect just the way you are, and I’m glad you are healthy now, and I will forever be thankful to that nurse for helping you.”

I leaned into his strong arms.

“I think, maybe, after this conversation it may be a seven or an eight,” I said smiling.

I’ve never seen him smile so big before.

He whispered in my ear, “I love you, Michaela. More than any other girl I’ve met. You are the reason I’ve been trying so hard to not sink back into my own darkness. The reason I’m trying to be better.”

“I love you right back. And just as much.”

He kissed my forehead and squeezed me tight. I closed my eyes and embraced his warmth.

I don’t want to go to my basketball game, I thought. I want to stay right here, in Lee’s arms.

I heard backpacks zipping and people moving. The sophomore girls’ basketball team was loading the bus. I rose to my feet, and so did Lee. He gathered me into his arms and whispered, “I love you.”

I tilted my head back slightly. I caught us both by surprise when I smashed my lips to his. He was too shocked to kiss me back immediately. I broke it off and hugged him again.

“I love you, too,” I said.

When I dropped my arms the look on his face was one of pure bliss. I picked up my things, and I turned to head for the bus.

I sauntered away. Looking over my shoulder, I called, “I didn’t miss that time!”

He flushed all the way down to his toes. As I walked out the door, I caught one last look at him. Slap happy, he cutely waved good-bye. I smiled and winked at him. I was so happy. I had finally gathered the courage to kiss the guy I’d had a crush on for over a year. I followed my team onto the bus. My face was still warm despite the frigid weather.

My friend, Lindsay, asked me, “Jeez, what’s got you so happy?”

Dreamily, I said, “I just had my first kiss.”

“That’s awesome!”

“I know it is.”

“Soooo who kissed who?”

“Soooo not telling,” I laughed.

After that we both retreated into our own thoughts. [Mine kept returning to Lee.] I finally decided to take out my “dinosaur phone” and text him.

Hello there, I wrote.

Hi, he replied.

I had fun :3

Me, too =)

I wish you’d come see me play

I can’t =(

I know. I miss you, I replied, longingly.

Same here.

After some thought, I wrote back, You’re a good kisser :3

No reply came back.

The next day at school our friends already knew we had shared our first kiss, and they were teasing us.

“Knock it off, guys, c’mon really,” he commanded while smiling.

“What happened to you last night?” I asked after they all left.

“When?”

“You didn’t respond to the last text I sent.”

“What text?”

“Umm… the one that said what a good kisser you are,” I responded, shyly.

“So I’ve been told.”

I took the initiative to hit him.

“No, I didn’t get the text,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Grrr… you aggravate me,” I said.

“Buuut…you love me.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I do, unfortunately.”

His laughter rang in the hallways as he slipped his hand in mine, and I though, I’m glad he’s mine.