My first boyfriend. I’m not saying it’s unusual or cute. I had a bf in first grade.
SO?! SO DOES EVERYONE! Well, whatever. There are specifics to every story. My boyfriend, André from Brazil, was accepting, and he had depth. He was disinterested in the fight for coolness, distant from worries about what others thought.
I don’t even remember if he really kissed my neck on the way back in from recess. Everyone saw it happen. Maybe they looked back, and he was lunging at me in play. Or maybe he really did mean to kiss my neck. Everyone’s rumors became the truth for me, and it was a happy truth. We were together. We played Power Rangers on the basketball courts every recess. He even played on Halloween when I was the only one in school who wore a costume. It was an elaborate homemade Simba costume–fuzzy, white chest and long draping tail with a white puff.
He moved back to Brazil in the middle of the school year, and we all had to write him a letter. I sat in the center of the class, writing my note on pink paper, drawing hearts.
Ten nine eight and I’m breaking away.
I’m all dressed up, and I’m ready to play.
Seven six five four, and I’m all over you.
Counting three two one and I’m having fun.