It was a brown marker. It was just a simple brown marker, the color of the last of the fall leaves, but I thought it was a sign. That marker along with the little note that I found hidden in my desk had to mean something.
They had to mean that Clint liked me back.
He was my first crush. Just a stupid little second grade crush. It was the kind of crush that means nothing and goes nowhere and we moved at the end of the school year anyway, so really, it didn't matter.
Why I remember that brown marker and that note (It said "Hi." SO SCANDALOUS.), I don't know. I can't remember to buy spinach when I go to the grocery store, but I can perfectly picture that stupid brown marker. You know, the marker that so obviously meant he liked me back.
Years later, word travelled around that Clint had managed to land himself in jail before he managed to graduate from high school. I would consider him a victim of circumstances, but we grew up battling very similar circumstances, so I suppose there is some choice and some luck in there.
Regardless, my first crush was in the second grade. It was all about Clint, the future car thief.
I had really outstanding taste in boys when I was a kid.
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Alexis is officially head over heels silly for a boy for the first time. She's always in a hurry to grow up, so it's not really a surprise that she couldn't even make it to kindergarten before she turned into a gushy little twinkle-eyed ball of mush.
She spends hours looking at pictures of the boy. She talks about him constantly. She even made a video using my phone which she dedicated to him.
It's nauseating. Like, really, really nauseating.
The lowest moment of her crush so far came late last week when she said, "I wish he'd break up with Selena so he can be my boyfriend." I told her that wasn't exactly a nice thing to say, but she didn't care. She likes the boy.
OF COURSE her first crush is on Justin Bieber. OF COURSE. She's completely smitten with him, or at least she's completely smitten with the image of him that she has created in her mind.
That thing where I had really bad taste in boys when I was a kid? It's apparently hereditary.
