Hmm. Where do I even start?
I met Greg about five or six years ago in Pre-Algebra. I didn’t really care for him, to be honest. After seventh grade, we never spoke again. We had no reason to talk. I had him for math, again Sophomore year, but I dropped the class in order to avoid being around Michael. I had him for math, again, Junior year. And again, Michael was there. I wanted to drop the class so fucking badly, but I didn’t. I’m so glad I didn’t. Michael left and I was so relieved that I wouldn’t be around the boy I nearly lost my virginity to. I remember my math teacher putting us into groups of three and Greg being in mine. I remembered his name. It sounded so familiar. However, he was absent for a couple of days. I never asked him why. I remember him asking me about having math class together. I don’t remember my answer. I stared at him for a while, without him realizing it. He had the prettiest eyes. I remember writing my number on a post-it note and asking him to hang out on Valentine’s Day because I didn’t want to be alone that day. Valentines Day reminded me of Michael. I remember getting Panda Express with him. I remember wanting to wrap my hand around his. I remember being nervous around him. It had been a year since I felt that way. I felt butterflies in my stomach when he looked at me. I remember talking about our lives on our way to getting frozen yogurt. I remember feeding him frozen jelly beans. I remember laughing at people who were confused about the door not working. I remember him dropping me off. I think that was the only time I didn’t ask him to stay longer. I remember kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. I remember telling him he was my first “date.” I remember kissing him.
I always tell Greg that “I don’t know why I can’t let you go home on time.” I do know. I am ten times happier when he is around. I forget that I’m stressed over work and school. I forget that I hate myself half the time. I stop being serious around him. I become a child that just wants his attention. I become happy.