[talkitytalk]

Dear Agu,

I hope that if the afterlife is a thing, that you're somewhere with Grandma and Grandpa and that they're spoiling you rotten by making all sorts of food. I can only imagine all of the pancit Grandma would make. The other day I suddenly pictures Grandpa standing in the back grilling fish over an electric grill, and then I was picturing their entire backyard in the old yellow house where we used to climb their trees and sneak into their vegetable garden.

I need to sleep now, but I miss you. We all miss you.

I love you, brother, and I'll see you later, okay?

[talkitytalk]

Daily drawing dump

[talkitytalk]

Story sketches I'll be cleaning up and adding text to.

[spacepandar]

I’ll keep my dumb Bowling Alley Crew comics in one post. More under the cut.

Keep reading

[talkitytalk]

So the thing about these comics (and a continuation of my story here…)

Towards the end of the semester, our school's gym classes took field trips to the local bowling alley. It was usually a one week event, but during my sophomore year our class went an extra week. So, it was two weeks as The Bowling Alley Crew and it was wonderful.

Have you ever seen the 90s MTV cartoon Daria? In the intro, it shows her using the least amount of effort playing volleyball during gym class. Anyway, look it up or just try to imagine it and you can imagine how I was bowling. **edit - Okay, so I put in a tiny bit of effort compared to this. But still. ** For as lazy and bored as I made myself seem, I scored surprisingly well. None of us could make sense of it. We just pretended I was magic itself, and a high-five with me was akin to a transfer of power.

During one of our bowling alley excursions, my dear old friend Dick tells me that a little bird told him I had a crush on Jack. I neither confirmed or denied it right then, but instead asked him who told him. He wouldn't tell me, and it didn't really matter WHO talked to him about me. Now, I mentioned briefly how well I knew Dick, so I had a good feeling that this information wasn't something he would keep secret for long.

Immediately after our "chat", Dick gets up and starts heading over to Jack, who was aways away getting food from the snack bar. I made one last futile attempt to keep my secret a secret by yelling "don't tell him!" The boys stood there chatting and looking in my direction for what felt like forever (but was probably only a few minutes). They come back and we all continue on with our bowling rounds, but I was now hyper-aware of Jack's presence. Dick would give me what I took as knowing looks, and I would glare at him while cursing under my breath. If he didn't share my secret, he had a hell of a time making me feel uncomfortable thinking he did.

I agonized over this moment for years and years asking only myself what happened knowing full well that I couldn't have known. However, a few years ago I finally asked them if they remembered that day. They both said no.

Looking back, it was that bus ride back to school when I really noticed the change in the way Jack regarded me. When I didn't take the seat next to him on the bus but took the one two rows back (I was still freaking out thinking he knew my secret), he moved and sat with me instead. I understand how this can be viewed as something I shouldn't have wanted, but I did. Even though I was afraid to get too close to anyone new (it was about a month before the big move), I didn't want to stop whatever it was that was happening between us.

...to be continued.

Part 1

[talkitytalk]

Here’s what led up to  The Bowling Alley Crew  comics:

After I stopped feeling bitter about being dumped by my first boyfriend, I told myself that I wasn’t going to fall for anyone else (at least until after my family moved.) Life was less stressful, my friends made school fun and interesting, and I had all the time in the world to observe everyone around. The way things had been going, I was sure that my last two months at this high school was going to be good and that I’d leave with no regrets.

Things didn’t go exactly as I had hoped.

I had gym class that semester and that was the norm for sophomores like myself. I had exactly one friend in the class (we’ll call him Dick), and we attached ourselves to two of the like three upperclassmen we recognized as friends of other friends (let’s call them Cat and Jack). The four of us kept to ourselves when we could, and I swear I thought we were “the bee’s knees”.

It’s interesting when I think back on our dynamic because even though we clung to each other during class and lunch, we were all still independent of one another. Dick, by far the most outgoing of our group, often branched off and socialized with other people in class. Cat and I would chat about all the mutual friends we had and how it was funny we hadn’t actually met before then, but once in a while we would split apart to join in on a game of whatever it was our class was supposed to be participating in. If Cat didn’t come to class, I was fine floating around to different groups of people. From what I can remember, Jack was already friends with Cat, and if he didn’t join in on our conversations he seemed content just sitting nearby taking care of of work for his other classes. (Our gym class was outrageously laid back. I don’t think our instructors cared so long as we walked/ran the track for a mile. But the class was 90 minutes long and we were off the track after about 20 so…)

You might be wondering who I suddenly had a crush on. Was it the socialite, Dick? It was. For about a month when I first met him at the beginning of the school year until I really got to know him. Not a bad person, but he just wasn’t my type and, well, I definitely wasn’t his.

So, there was Jack, who I still didn’t know too well but the physical attraction was there. That I could have ignored and gotten over, but all of a sudden I couldn’t ignore him, and all of a sudden there were feelings. There was this quote I recently read that I feel describes what happened - “I was always looking when you didn’t notice, and before I realized it, it became a habit.”

Before Jack’s absence was nothing to write home about, but after my realization his absence was all I could focus on. I looked forward to our class together, our shared little circle. Instead of my usual “table hopping” during lunch to keep up with other friends, I found myself rooted at the start to a table with Jack, Cat, and Dick.

Cat was the first to point out this change in my behavior. She was discrete about it, and when I didn’t deny any attraction towards our friend she proceeded to share all the nice things about him that she knew of. After this, and I’m not sure how exactly (probably Cat working me into conversations and then quietly leaving) Jack and I talked to each other directly a little more.

Within a few days it felt like everyone knew how I felt. Word got to my brother (we had a LOT of mutual friends due to our close age) and he mentioned it a close friend of ours. This friend approached me one morning and without preamble got straight to the heart of it: I liked Jack. My family was moving in less than two month. Was I going to say anything to him about any of it? My answer: no. There was going to be no confession. I wasn’t going to directly tell him that I was moving because we had only started to get to know each other, and because of our mutuals I figured he would have heard about it anyway.

Jack was a swell guy, and if he heard about my feelings through the grapevine he never mentioned it. We continued carrying on as usual, and I kept telling myself that everything was going to be okay. I was going to be okay pretending like nothing changed and that nothing would.

(continued in part 2)

[talkitytalk]

The last thing I said to him.

"Hi, my brother, I love you and I’ll see you later.”

[talkitytalk]

Family: Safety Not Always Included

A lot of stories from my youth I've shared over and over again, but this isn't one of them (but I do recall mentioning it at least once on this website). This story still leaves me feeling ashamed, angry, and upset although I fully understand that I wasn't to blame for what happened.

I was twelve, and my parents had given me permission to stay the night over at my cousin's house. She was much younger than I was, but her family and mine were the only ones living in Texas at the time so she and I usually hung out since were also the only girls. *shrug* Other than gender, we really didn't have too much in common but she was younger and nice so I made an effort.

The evening had gone along well enough. We watched TV and then played Mario Kart until it was time to go to bed. My cousin and I shared a bed, and that part didn't bother me so much but I often had trouble sleeping when I was away from the safety of my own home and my parents. I didn't know this cousin of her family until we had moved to Texas two years prior, and so they were still sort of strangers to me. Family is family, right? I was raised to believe that family is everything, which it usually is, but also that "blood is thicker than water" (the incomplete quote, not the expanded and correct version that I like much better now).

Eventually, I started to feel comfortable enough to fall asleep, but suddenly I felt someone slide onto the bed right behind me (I was sleeping on my side with my back towards the bedroom doorway). I didn't turn around, and I didn't ask who it was because I knew. It was someone much larger than my male cousins, and I knew for a fact that it wasn't my aunt.

This uncle, my family, had crawled onto the bed and sandwiched me between himself and my cousin, who was sound asleep. I don't recall him actually putting his hands on me, but a few seconds later I felt his leg rubbing against mine. At that moment, several thoughts came to mind. I thought, "this is wrong. Why is this happening? What do I do?" Then I recalled comments about my uncle that my mom had said to me in private. She had expressed her disgust at how close this uncle was with another niece (who was an adult, but still. Gross.) She described a few moments she had witnessed and it all sounded very intimate, and the sort of thing I thought should only happen between this uncle and his wife. (I have to mention that his wife was someone who tried to be subtle about being jealous of my appearance. Even though was I was a twelve-year old little girl.)

My discomfort continued to grow at an alarming rate, but it was the middle of the night. I didn't trust the aunt enough to take my side if I asked for help, and the uncle I thought I could trust was getting to close to me, who probably thought I was in a deep sleep. I did the only thing I thought I could do short of calling 911.

"Uncle, I can't sleep with someone right next to me." I didn't move. Still hadn't turned around to face him. This uncle froze, and without a word got up from the bed and left the room. I turned to face the door, wrapped myself up tightly in a blanket, and stared out into the dark. It was a long while before exhaustion took over and forced me into sleep.

The next morning, my cousin and I got up, ate cereal, and I called my parents to pick me up. I don't recall seeing the uncle at home that morning. When my parents arrived, they asked if I had fun, I probably responded that I did, but I never asked or agreed to sleep over again. To this day, my parents still don't know what I experienced that night, and I've avoided the uncle ever since.

Nearly 18 years later, and it's still a memory that's hard to think about. It made my already low self-esteem even lower, and any self-confidence I had in my appearance as I grew into a teenager evaporated. I didn't want to be attractive if it was going to get the sort of unwanted attention I got that night. I thought, if I could just look more like a boy then maybe those types of men will ignore me. There was no way I could look like a boy. Puberty arrived early for me, and with my "baby fat" gone I had all the curves gross men looked for in girls my age. The best I could do was to hide my body with oversized jackets and shirts, and loose fitting pants.

It would be a few years before I allowed myself to wear fitted clothing without a jacket/sweater outside of my home.

[talkitytalk]

The First High School Boyfriend

It’s been almost 15 years so I can say this now: he definitely had stronger romantic feelings for me than I did for him. That’s not to say I didn’t have any. They were there, but the idea of dating someone and having a boyfriend was more interesting. That sounds mean, but it is what it is now.

Being the only girl in my family, my parents were pretty strict about me not actually going out anywhere with my new beau, but they allowed to him to come over and hang out. I feel like our relationship caused a strain on the friendship this guy had with my brother, but brother never said anything to me about it. They did, however, stop talking for a while after we broke up (which I’ll get to soon enough.)

When the winter holidays rolled around my family and I flew back to California to visit relatives, everyone was curious about this boyfriend I had. A lot of the adults liked to point out that I wasn’t dating a Mexican boy. Like, I didn’t really think about that sort of thing when I was attracted to someone, so I was a little surprised at how much they brought that up. It was a long winter break for me. This was a time befoe high-speed internet and it wasn’t yet the norm for everyone to have cellphones. Some had them, but not me. I wanted to talk to this boyfriend of mine, but it had to wait until I got home, and even then it was hard to get a hold of him by phone.

He wasn’t a fan of a lot of the music I liked, and that was fine by me. I never cared much if people liked the music I do. Music is personal and I understand we all have our own tastes. He started to share with me the music he liked, and I found that I liked it also.

Valentine’s Day came around, and he was waiting for me with an a heart shaped balloon with a white rose inside (my favorite flower at the time). I don’t think I gave him anything. Maybe a handmade card? I don’t know anymore. First time girlfriend. Didn’t know what to do.

After Valentines and before his birthday in March is where my memory gets really fuzzy. I recall his birthday arriving, and our friend made him those jello cups that look like earth with gummi worms coming out of it. I also recall feeling too shy to take one, and I figure if that’s the case then we must have broken up before then and since we had mutual friends I didn’t want to stop hanging out with everyone.

We had already slowly started pulling away from each other, and I think I saw it coming because I wasn’t surprised by the contents of the note he slipped in my hand when before my first class started. I waited until morning break to read it, and it took me a while to process what was actually happening.

My friend found me crying in the restroom, and a couple of others asked if I wanted them to beat the guy up. I told them no. I saw it coming, and I’d get over it.

But I also remember thinking that it wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. Breakups were supposed to happen verbally, not through notes, and I always felt that it was going to be me doing it, not him.

For as upset as I got, I was never angry at him for breaking it off. His note was extremely apologetic. In the end, he said something about valuing us more as friends (a feeling I shared), and that he was sorry he didn’t feel what he did in the beginning. He also added that since I was moving back to California at the end of the school year, it was probably best. It was until a day or two after when I noticed someone new hanging around and on him that I started to feel anger. I knew him enough to know that it wasn’t something that just started, so that meant they were cozying it up before he ended things with me. The idea didn’t sit well with me at all, and I felt very disrespected by both parties.

The new person wasn’t actually new to me. In fact, they were one of the few people in high school who was open about their admiration for me and my ability to draw. They even had a fanclub for me (which weirded me out, but no harm no foul so I let it be). This was the person who changed the way my ex felt about me. Was it a personal attack on me? Was it just a coincidence? I don’t care anymore but I admit that I’m still curious about the events that led up to the breakup.

The ex and I kept things civil, but he was fully aware of how betrayed I felt. If we talked directly to each other we kept a friendly distance, but mostly I stayed away. Our mutual friends I only talked to when I noticed he wasn’t around or when they sought me out instead. I think some of them were upset too with the change in the dynamic of our little circle after the new girlfriend reveal.

I got over my anger/jealously pretty quickly, because I truly did value the friendship we once had and I wanted it back if he was willing. He was, and we mended our relationship as best as we could before I moved away. After that, we kept in touch via AOL Instant Messenger (that used to be a cool thing), and then eventually via text msgs after I got my first cell phone with my new part-time job money.

We talked about everything that wasn’t about dating people or the want to date people. There were drunk phone calls and text conversations at 3am. Mutual friends taking over his phone asking if I’d consider dating my ex again. I always politely refused, and they always said they understood. They had always liked me more.

The conversations between us began to get very deeply personal. Things I couldn’t share with anyone else, didn’t want to share with anyone else, and things I didn’t know how to tactfully handle. But I did my best, I think, because we’re still friends now even if we only talk through the odd comment here and there on our many social media accounts.

I would very much like to spend an afternoon with him and briefly get to know the people who important to him in his life now. Maybe one day it will happen, but until then I’ll just continue to send him good vibes and wish him the best.

[talkitytalk]

This means nothing

Once I was at a bar far from home...

and I must have been fed up with my life because I let myself get fairly drunk even though I was driving back. So, we’re drinking and they’re mixing my drinks very nicely when my dude comes back from the restroom with a new friend. This new friend brings his new friend and then we’re all friends. The bar we were at was a cozy one with a table in a corner right next to a working fireplace, and since it was a particularly cold night, we snagged the spot for ourselves and had a good time with our new friends, friend 1 and 2. My dude was having an excited conversation with 1 about something, so 2 and I sort of scooted back closer to the fireplace and had a chat of our own.

I have to describe 2 because for some reason it’s something I remember clearly. 2 had dirty blond hair down to his chin, light colored eyes, one of those “worker” looking outer jackets with corduroy on the collar, and he had an easy going manner about him. Never caught his name, and if it was something shared I’ve forgotten it. What I do remember is him telling me that he was fairly new to the area, he worked someplace involving environmental science, and that he only just met friend 1 about an hour before and he was going to take him to some college house party. I also vividly remember the way we leaned in close to speak and listen to each other. The place wasn’t incredibly loud, but we both spoke softly anyways and I imagine, now, it probably looked like we were having an intimate conversation.

Last Call was upon us, and after finishing our drinks we walked out as a foursome as if we were all close friends and would remain that way for a long time. We all knew full well that none of us really cared about that all. But on we walked along the downtown strip towards another bar with my dude and 1 taking the lead while me and 2 huddled behind. I remember asking 2 if he had any idea where exactly we were headed, to which he replied “I don’t know. I’m just following them.” I nodded. It was as good an answer as anything I could have come up with. Eventually we reach another bar, they don’t let us in (it was past 2am anyway), and we all splinter off. 1 continues to try to get past the bar’s security, 2 walks off towards the residential areas, and my dude and I stumble off in the direction of the parking garage we left my car in.

[talkitytalk]

An Unfortunate Moment

I think it was during third grade when my parents took us to the store with the rare purpose of treating us just because they had the opportunity to splurge a bit. I picked out a rainbow backpack with Sylvester the cat (one of two favorite Looney Toons characters) and well with Sylvester came Tweety Bird :/ Anyway, so it was this awesome drawstring backpack, and they also bought me a big pack of Crayola markers. I was so excited and happy and it was so incredible to have all of those colorful things in my possession.

The next day I brought it all with me to school, naturally. It was one of those odd days when my parents picked us up early to leave for a mini vacation. I remember realizing as I got in the car that I forgot something in class, so I dropped my bag and ran back for it. By the time I got back and we were well on our way, I noticed I didn’t have my brand new backpack. We were already too far on journey to go back for it, so they just dealt with me crying for a bit and I felt so ashamed for forgetting something my parents had JUST spent money on that I didn’t ask for new markers or a backpack for a few years.

[talkitytalk]

I need to change my url.

I feel like I’ve mentioned this publicly before, but I don’t remember if I actually have… but I just read something that reminded me of a debate assignment we were given in my government class during my senior year of HS. We all got put into pairs and each group was assigned a different topic to debate. Our teacher decided who was on the pro and con side of things. I was chosen to speak against same sex marriage. It felt so wrong. There was nothing I could twist to make myself argue against it, and I admit that I tried. I pulled up some of the most ridiculous arguments I had heard at the time, and I didn’t even bother writing anything coherent. Just scribble stupid shit on notebook paper with the intention of using it as reference when we performed our debate in front of the class.

The time came for our debate, and my partner gave their points for supporting sex marriage. It was good. Then it was my turn. I read off one shitty point against it, and then I just stopped. I remember looking at my paper, then looking back up to my teacher and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this. I can’t argue against it.” My teacher, god I loved my government teacher so much even before this moment, she nodded in understanding and clapped, signaling the end of our debate. I don’t remember what any of the other debates were about, I was too scared to pay attention. “My grade. My grade.” That’s all I could think about. I eventually wrote a paper in lieu of the debate, but I was allowed to write about the debate in favor instead of against.

People looked at me differently after that. Not in a negative way, but there was this sort of awe they all had in their faces when they greeted me. And I usually didn’t get greetings. I was the quiet kid in class that doodled all period but still receive high marks.

I want to go back to another reason that makes me say I loved my government teacher. She was strict as hell. There were rumors about her “being a bitch” that I had been hearing for years before I was assigned to her class. So, first day of government I was nervous. I’ve had so-called strict teachers before, and one of them had raised their voice at me so yeah, I was nervous. But this teacher. This woman taught us with so much conviction. It was evident to anyone who cared about their own education that this was a woman who wanted us to learn. She wanted us to succeed. I fucking respect people like that. Or maybe it was just with a select few like me, because I was always honest and wasn’t afraid to ask for help when I needed it. Idk. But I loved her. She had us follow a very specific set up for our notebooks, and she preferred we kept it “clean” (no scribbles in the margins, no irrelevant marks or comments written everywhere). My notebook had doodles all over it. When it came time to turn it in, I was a little embarrassed and worried about my grade (again.) The following week our notebooks were returned to us, and I noticed I didn’t get docked for my doodling. She did leave a little note, however. I can’t remember it verbatim anymore (it’s been 12 years) but I recall it saying something and positive and encouraging. I hope my old teacher is doing well now and enjoying life.

[talkitytalk]

The Long Distance Stuff, Part 1

Long distance relationships seem to very commonplace now, but when I tried it the idea was still sort of taboo(?) unless your S.O. was in the military or had some career that required a lot of travel and long stays away from home. Not to mention that I was only 13 but I was mature enough, right? My schoolmates were dating left and right, so why couldn’t I do the same online?

The first I got along well with was an older guy, who when I think about him now was super creepy and a pedophile. Ugh. We shared a lot of the same interests (video games, music) and I thought “hey! this is cool! I can talk to guys and it’s so easy!” It wasn’t until later that I let myself realize that the anonymity that comes with the internet makes so very many things easy. This guy admitted to me that he was already in a relationship, but made it easy for me to convince myself that it didn’t matter. We could have our relationship over the net and it would be fine. It lasted a few months, and then it came to its inevitable end leaving me heartbroken.

A year later there was someone new. Someone a year younger than me, but at least much closer in age than the gross guy from before. The only thing he and I had in common was a love for a single video game, so the fact that I pursued anything more than a platonic relationship with him was weird. I imagine I was just desperate for any sort of attention. The transition from Jr High to High School was tough, and everyone seemed to have a clique except for me. Anyways, this new guy came with a lot of drama, and the only good thing that I got out of that whole mess was that his best friend became my best friend. We don't talk like we used to, but we still keep in touch to this day.

[talkitytalk]

It’s said that you are your own worst enemy, and I can attest to that. The first attempt I made to let someone know I liked them and not take it back was sabotaged by myself.

The junior high student council was holding a fundraiser during our lunch break on Valentines Day where for a $1 you could send your “Valentine” a little note and flower. As was my way, I had been crushing on a classmate the entire school year at that point, and after a bit of prodding my friends convinced me to take a chance! Go up on that stage and purchase that valentine! “Send it anonymously,” they said. So I gathered up my one dollar and some courage and did it. I didn’t even sign “from your secret admirer.” Just wrote the boy’s name, maybe something like “happy valentine’s day” or if I was really bold maybe I even wrote “I like you.” (The latter is doubtful, but that detail is lost to time now.)

Lunch break ends and we all return to our third block classes. This class was one of the few I shared with my crush, and before the class was asked to settle down I noticed he and his friend going desk to desk with my “secret” valentine. At 12 years old I was already pretty decent at feigning indifference (I had to learn to avoid being teased for a number of reasons in the past), but internally I was freaking out.

Judgement day came and the two boys gave their greetings and then asked if I knew who sent the valentine. I denied any knowledge of it, of course, (dumb of me), and I thought that was the end of it. Then the friend picked up a sheet of paper I had prepared for class with my name written on it and began comparing my handwriting to the card. My face was hot and I’m sure it was beet red.

I continued to deny the fact that the valentine was sent by me, and after a few more agonizing moments of being extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable the boys left me alone. I don’t recall if they continued playing detectives after that.

Before the end of that school year, the boy and I slowly began talking as friends, and while it wasn't the start of some summer romance he gave me a hug and we moved on with the rest of our lives.

[talkitytalk]

I'm going to change the format and content for this blog. Trying to do what I have been is already turning into a chore when the purpose was to just let things flow. Will change username and tagline soon.

[talkitytalk]

Leaving First

At nine-years old, the little girl started to believe that the “great love” only existed in fiction so she began to drown herself in it. Love was a common theme in everything she surrounded herself with. Entire comics were drafted where the strong heroine, never actively looking for romance, stumbles upon a love interest and the two, after many dangerous hurdles, realize they “need” each other.

Just when she stopped looking for herself, the girl’s friends were suddenly very interested in love and all of the things they thought came with it. Maybe it began with the media feeding ideas into their heads, or maybe it came from the stories about boyfriends shared by the more mature eleven-year olds they met. The older kids knew even older kids, and that meant they knew a lot about life and love.

The only thing the girl knew at that point was that she was beginning to fell left out, and when her friends splintered off into new groups that shared their interests in dating the girl pushed herself deeper and deeper into her own world. The little girl was so far off into her own worlds that she missed all of the movie cues of a budding romance when presented to her. She wasn’t like her friends who dressed to impress and started wearing makeup, so she didn’t think anyone would come to her with anything other than an offer of pure friendship.

It started with light-hearted teasing. When she thought about it after the fact, it was a poor way to kickoff a romantic relationship in her book. No wonder everything that came after was written off as experiences between two close friends. (The girl still isn’t completely convinced that it was anything more than that.)

After that it was small displays of kindness. There were the “I was at the store and randomly saw these and remembered you liked them a lot so here you go” gifts that were only given to the girl. A thing to note: this gift-giving boy was a friend to the girl and her tiny group of friends who shared a common interest in this ‘thing’ given by the boy. The girl wondered why he didn’t give each of them a gift when there was more than enough to share.

A series of “don’t worry, I got you” moments followed, and the friendship was good. It was came during a time when the girl felt as though her other friends were leaving her behind. This new friendship was fun and fulfilling.

As life would have it, the girl ended up being the one to leave her friends behind, and if the thought of her never seeing any of these people again popped up in her head it came too late.

[talkitytalk]

Before the Fifth

The next target for her affection was another older school boy, and this older boy was one she wanted to kiss. Not knowing how to successfully approach and keep the attention of this boy, the girl maintained her distance and settled for admiring in secrecy. Eventually the boy learned about the girl and her feelings.

At this point in the story the boy approaches the girl and they develop a friendship, but this isn’t that sort of story.

Summer arrived, and the girl and boy crossed paths again at a different school. A smile and a nod of acknowledgement was given, and the boy went on with his group leaving the girl alone. With no friends to keep her company, the girl spent her breaks daydreaming about summer romances.

The time came when the boy finally approached her, and she was nervous and excited all at once. “Could it finally be happening?” she wondered. The boy asked her for some money.

Nervousness and excitement were replaced with shame and anger. Shame for thinking that maybe the boy did like her as she did him. Anger at the thought of him preying on her affection to get something from her that was hard to come by in her family.

That summer, the girl found better use of her time and energy learning how to manipulate computer software to turn her creative writing into animations.

[talkitytalk]

Three

One didn’t know the girl existed.

Another one was a best friend who told the girl all about his crush on their new friend.

The other was a different best friend who had a crush on the girl, but the girl didn’t think about it until it was too late.