I met him at a dance. It was 6th grade. I was sipping my Brisk iced tea while eating a bag of Cheetos. Then I saw him. He was standing by the gym door entrance. Red Aeropostale shirt and awkwardly fitted denim jeans.
He looked familiar. I thought maybe he was in one of my classes. And I was right. He was standing there, while I was staring at him. Then he looked at me. I looked away.
The dance ended at 5:00 in the afternoon. Lame. I was waiting for my bus outside the school. I had my headphones on and was listening to some Katy Perry song. It was probably Fireworks. It was most definitely Fireworks.
And then my bus came. I walked in, and then I saw him. He was sitting on a three-seater with nobody next to him.
May I sit here? I asked.
Sure.
He probably thought I was some creep. I didn’t care.
My name is-
I know who you are. We’re in the same science class. 3rd period, he said.
We talked the whole bus ride. I don’t remember what we talked about. But it wasn’t nothing. It was something for sure. Because from that moment on, we never stopped talking. Every day, we talked about everything. School, people, music. Sooner or later we knew almost everything about each other from our favorite colors to our daily routines. We became friends. Some could have even considered us as best friends.
On the last day of 6th grade, I didn’t want to say goodbye. I hated goodbyes. I knew that it was only for one summer and that we would see each other again. But it was still an end of something.
The bell at the end of the day rang and everyone rushed out. I tried to search for him in a sea of people. But he was nowhere to be found. I felt like I saw everyone, but him.
I walked to my bus. I checked my phone. And I got a text from him: hey, i didn’t see you. but no goodbyes ok? just see you laters.
I replied: okay. see you later
That was the last time we spoke.