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She Didn't Like My Facebook Message (2011)

This was it. This was the beginning of the trauma. This tale is what started my misadventures. Riley from Sixth Grade. Her mom was the sixth grade English teacher, as well as Battle of the Books supervisor. Now, I didn't have Mrs. Riley-From-Sixth-Grade's-Mom's English class, but I did excel in my Battle of the Books team. By excel, I mean skimming all 27 titles on the list and memorizing titles and authors.

I was a terrible asset, and everyone knew it. I was only on the team because I knew the titles and their corresponding authors. Now, don't get me wrong, I love to read, but at this time, I was so desperate for the acceptance and respect of my peers, so I skimmed the books and bragged at how quick I read them, then proceeded to suffer during the actual quizzes. I absolutely hated middle school, but mostly because I wasn't me, and that is downright embarrassing.

Riley From Sixth Grade was Riley From Sixth Grade's Mom's daughter, naturally. She was in my grade, and was, of course, a natural academic genius. I thought she was so smart because I didn't share any classes with her besides ninth block, aka Battle of the Books. Not only was she smart, but she was darn cute. Still is, honestly. But, now that I know who she really is, I'm totally fine with the distance we have.

Now, I didn't know what was happening to me. I'd smile without reason every time I saw her. It wasn't normal. I never did that. I had friends, and she was my friend, but I didn't want her to be my friend. I wanted to be...something more with her. It was weird. I thought maybe I should ask her out, or ask how she feels about me (I had the tendency to vocalize my curiosity. I would often randomly ask my classmates, 'what do you really think of me,' and 'would you go to my funeral if I died tomorrow?' It wasn't fun). I didn't know what to do with myself. I decided that I couldn't tell Riley about how I felt about her. It was social suicide. She would never talk to me again. I'd be a fool. I needed to find someone that I trusted with information and knew Riley From Sixth Grade. After careful thought, I knew exactly who I should tell. I asked my parents to log into their Facebook account (I was too young to have my own and this was back when Facebook first got popular and was bumpin'.), and went into direct. I searched up "Riley-From-Sixth-Grade's Mom" and opened the chat. I told her that I like-liked her daughter. That was it. I didn't ask for her hand, or money, or anything related to Battle of the Books. I just told her, and that was it. Riley's Mom replied with something like "That's so sweet, but Riley's not old enough to date." and that was that. She might've slapped an emoticon on there or something, who knows. I was happy because someone else knew how I felt. I was content. Maybe if we both were older, we'd date and be happy together, I thought. Little did I know.

When I went into school the next day, both Riley From Sixth Grade and her mother were ignoring me. Her mom answered my questions, but didn't engage in conversation like she did before she knew the truth. Riley ignored me for a couple weeks, and then acted like nothing happened. This is how I developed trust issues, and this is where the girl problems began. There isn't much to this story except the amusing cringe that ensued in my poor, poor middle school life. There is no happy endings here, and come to think of it, I don't think I've ever gotten a happy ending with a girl yet. My poor, poor life.