“Fatou?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think Jacob is cute?”
“Perez? Yeah, he’s okay. Why? Do you like him?”
I slid off the blue park bench and stared down at my toes. The butterflies I felt at the moment were killing me, yet I liked the feeling. I liked having a crush. I liked the suspense of wondering did he like me back or would he ever like me back. Crazy, but I liked it.
Jacob wasn’t the cutest boy in our class and he definitely wasn’t the most liked. He wore black baggy clothing. His preference in music was different than everyone else’s. He liked the Misfits and punk rock music. Aside from behind smart like a lot of people here, he stood out from everybody. He’d be the green grape in the bundle of purple ones.
Every day, I witnessed him being bullied from afar. Everything at our school is in unison. Everyone liked the same thing. Everyone wore the same clothes. Everyone did the same thing. If you aren’t like everyone else, you will be bullied. That’s just the society we live in today.
Here I am. Twelve years old. The school year is coming to an end and I’m able to depict right from wrong at such a young age. I guess that’s what going to a private school does for you. Public school is so different. I’ve been here almost a whole school year and I still haven’t found my place.
I look around at everyone else who’s laughing and playing. They all seem happy. Why? Because they fit in. They’re not tormented or bullied. They made the cut. Let’s give the other 29 students a big round of applause.
Our sixth grade class was out for recess. Behind our school, Medgar Evers, was a big park. You’d think that this being such an old school, that everything would be old and rusty. But it was the opposite. It’s like a renovation took place. It had everything that would attract someone my age; swings, slides, open fields for running around—the whole nine yards. Yet, none of that fascinated me or my friend, Fatou.
Fatou was my only friend at school. Like Jacob, she was different from everyone else. Not because of her preference in music or clothing, but because she didn’t follow the crowd. She liked the same things as everyone else, but it wasn’t so she could fit in. It was because she genuinely liked it.
Fatou was a month older than me, but I don’t think that’s a valid reason for bold personality. I’m a March baby, March 16th to exact. And then there’s Fatou who was born February 10th. She was ‘fierce.’ She never held her tongue and you’d always know what was on her mind. She was honest. I liked that.
I liked a lot of things, but this school and the people in it just weren’t one of them. I wish my sister, Jamiya, was here with me. But she’s in high school now. (She’ll be a sophomore next school year.) If Jamiya, or Breezy as I liked to call her, was here, I wouldn’t feel so lost. But she’s not. So I’m on my own.
And then I come back to reality, wondering how to answer Fatou’s question. I can see her tapping her right foot, a sign of impatience. I could have answered her question when it was first asked, but I was easily distracted.
Distracted by all the kids running around.
Distracted by the blazing mid-August heat burning down on my already brown skin.
Distracted by the butterflies in my stomach.
Distracted by the cause of the butterflies sitting alone in the field.
“Hello?
“HEllo?
“HELLO?”
I snapped my head in Fatou’s direction. Annoyance was writing all over her face. I apologize for lack of ability to stay on task, but the smallest things seem to always catch my attention and then I form these little thoughts in my head. It’s like digressing away from a topic without anyone actually knowing what’s on my mind.
Looking up at the blue sky, I noticed a flock of birds. Well, it was more like a flock and then two birds staggering behind. That has to be a representation of something. If you don’t understand, let me break it down for you.
The flock of birds is relative to all the kids in my sixth grade class, excluding myself and Jacob. They fly around all day, laughing and talking. They fit in. They’re liked. It’s easy for them to make friends and be noticeable.
But then there are the two birds, staggering behind the flock. That’d be Jacob and I. we don’t make much an effort to fit in. We’re content with the way things are. We like behind alone with each other. We’re different. We’re unique. We stand out. I like it that way.
“Yeah, I like him.” I mumbled under my breath as I kick the dirt around on the ground.
“Well, what are you sitting here for? He’s over there.” She pointed across the field. “Go talk to him. He looks lonely, anyway,”
Without saying a word, I walked away from Fatou and towards the field Jacob was sitting at. Kids ran past, almost knocking me over. They pay me no mind as if I was invisible. That’s the kids at our school, for ya’.
I kept walking.
The wind blew threw my hair and it's cool fingers ran itself over my scalp. The trees swayed from left to right. The sun was bright but it didn't burn us with its rays. The sun was being nice on us for it to be late May.
"Hi, I'm Naomi. Why are you here alone? I thought you were friends with Craig, Chresanto, and Rayan. Shouldn't you be with them?" I said sitting next to Jacob on the grass.
"What's it to you?" he asked, pulling pieces of grasses from the ground.
"Sorry, I was just trying to talk to you." I mumbled. I could feel a lump forming in my throat and tears getting ready to spill from my eyes. I was sensitive back then.
"Oh..." He said scratching his neck. "Well, I'm Jacob."
"I know who you are." I said leaning back onto my forearms. He joined me and I noticed his hair moving in the wind. Yeah, he had the curly afro back then.
He ignored my statement and looked over at me and stared. "You're pretty. Want to be my girlfriend?"
I giggled and blushed. How could someone so lonely and defensive be so straight forward? Especially to someone he'd just met? .
Like I said, he was different. Opposites Attract. "Sure!"
"I think this is the part where I'm supposed to kiss you." he said looking at me
I nodded my head a little and we both began to lean in. His lips met mine and damn, were the soft!
For a while he lingered and caressed my cheeks with his hands. Our lips finally detached and I could still taste him on my lips. Awkward, but he tasted like Mexican food.
I lay back down on the grass and I could feel my cheeks burning. I liked this moment. I thank Fatou for encouraging me to go talk to him. If it weren’t for her, I would have never talked to him and I probably would have never knew what it was like to love… or be loved.
YOU ARE READING
Soldier of Love
Fanfiction"I look into his eyes and I can see that he's realized he's done wrong. He always does wrong, but this time he knows he's in for it big time. The greatest understanding he's come to know is there's no turning back. What's done is done. But behind al...
