Skylar

non-fiction

In first grade, I had a crush on this girl, Skylar. She had blue eyes like air, white like clouds, and she wore a baby blue jacket to school everyday.
Ah, love.
But, I didn't know how to talk to her! And I was at that age that it was WRONG to admit a crush. What to do?
So at recess, I would follow all the kids out to the playground and I'd stand on the edge and watch Skylar play and then she and her group of friends would move out to the field, next to the old tetherball courts, so old they didn't have balls anymore.
I would follow them out there, stand on the edge and fray a tetherball rope. Then, she and her friends would move back to the playground.
I'd follow.
And, to make matters worse, I talked to myself.
I kicked at the dirt, it was hot and I muttered what I was gonna say to her.
I used to imagine burning down the school so that I could rescue Skylar. Then she'd love me. Fuck.
Then we'd get married. All that shit.
I listened to a lot of classic rock at this age, because I had a little FM radio. Whenever "American Pie" came on, I would sing the whole thing. Whenever romantic songs came on, I would sit quiet and think of Skylar. My friends would nudge me, ask me what I was thinking.
Nothin'.
I followed her everyday, from a distance. I had friends, I had things to do. I still followed her, but Hell, I was cool. I had jeans that had holes in the knees, on purpose, because I wanted to be a '90s era rock kid. I didn't know who Kurt Cobain was, but I wanted to be him.
One day, this kid in my class gave me a bag of clothes. "These are from my mom." He said.
They were because of my jeans. The kid's parents thought I was poor. My mom felt insulted, told me I couldn't wear jeans with holes anymore, but she kept the clothes.
Inside, was my all-time-favorite t-shirt. It was a California Angels / Snapple shirt. I loved it and I wore it when my dad took me to my first baseball game at Peoria Sports Complex.
The game was surprisingly boring, but after the game I got to run around and kick leftover cups of beer. I talked to myself as I scattered sunflower seeds and toppled Big Gulps. Back when they had the Geckos on them. I sang to myself. I went home smelling like beer.

My best friend was a kid named Art. From what I remember, he was an asshole. He jumped on the pinata on Mexico Day and kicked the candy everywhere. He always got in trouble.
Art had holes in his jeans, too. But he didn't get a bag of clothes. No one liked him, but me.
There were Travis and Jordan and they were best friends and they were the class clowns. I would follow them around, too, because I thought they were funny and I wanted them to like me and be my friend.
I joined boy scouts. I thought we'd get to go camping! All I remember was making a model car with my father for little derby races. The first one we attempted, we had to carve into a block of wood, make a car out of it somehow. And well, my dad fucked up completely. So the next one we left as a block of wood, spray-painted it lemon yellow and drilled holes in it. We glued a toy rat on top and called it the Cheese Mobile.
At the race, my car didn't even move. The wheels got stuck. I got in last-last-last-last place. But I got the trophy for "Most Creative Car 1996." To this day, that means more to me than First Place ever would. And it was the best excuse to hang out with my dad.
But the boy scouts never went camping. Instead, we went to a creek in Payson and this guy caught me a crawdad. Me and Travis and Jordan found this shed and pulled open the door. A hundred black widow spiders poured out, and lots of skinks. I'd never seen a skink before. It's a snake with legs and it terrified me. We closed the door. I was terrified, but at the same time, curious. I wanted to open the door again.
I took the crawdad home and it died.
I quit boy scouts the next year.
I would still follow Skylar and I felt like they say -- following her like a sad, little puppy. Maybe she was avoiding me on purpose.
Then one time, this kid, who would always pick on me put me in a headlock. So I bit him as hard as I could. I got detention for the first time and I cried.
You were supposed to bring your lunch to this one room and eat it, but I didn't eat. This was punishment?
I sat there, head on my folded arms and I thought of Skylar.

Man, some things never change, do they?