Ryan the Interim
Ryan was two years ahead of me. I'm fairly certain that we met on my first day of seventh grade, but I could be wrong. I don't like to think extensively about it because I was painfully idiotic around practically anyone older than me.
Our school was a combined junior and senior high school, and we all fit nicely on a campus which had once been just a junior high. There were around 100 students in each grade, seventh through twelfth. In general, everyone knew everyone else or at least, could recognize a fellow student if one was spotted on the street or at the mall.
Because of this, Ryan was friends with my eldest brother despite the fact that David was a senior and Ryan just a freshman. I use the term "friends" loosely. As David tells it, Ryan once tied him to a chair and left him face down in a puddle. Either way, that is how he and I met. My older brothers and I would arrive at school earlier than most, and Ryan would already be there. One almost got the feeling that he was always there.
It seems almost as though I led two separate social lives in seventh grade. I made friends with kids my own age at break and at lunch time, but before and after school, I spent time with my brothers and their high school friends.
I made some of my best friends in seventh grade. Michael was in my PE class, but I didn't officially "meet" him until his friend tried to sell me chicken at lunch time. I bought some but never received it (I'm still waiting to get my 30 cents back). KellyAnn sat next to me in Math for most of the year, but I didn't officially "meet" her until we were in the school production of West Side Story. I was a Jet girl, she was a Shark guy (Most of the "guys" in that play were actually girls). Amy was still at our elementary school that year, but I would call her every night and gush (mostly about high school boys).
Ryan, the topic of many of our conversations, was the first of my many embarrassing junior high crushes. My brothers' friends and the high-school-theatre guys made up the pool of my potential soul-mates. Somehow, at different points in time, I managed to convince myself that each of them was the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life. I cringe when I recall the way I spoke and behaved around them and couldn't possibly write about it in detail.
At the end of seventh grade, I sent Ryan an email, confessing my feelings for him. Now, I kick myself for how seriously I took the situation. When he didn't email back, I was "heartbroken," but I soon became grateful that he never, ever mentioned it.
Our school was a combined junior and senior high school, and we all fit nicely on a campus which had once been just a junior high. There were around 100 students in each grade, seventh through twelfth. In general, everyone knew everyone else or at least, could recognize a fellow student if one was spotted on the street or at the mall.
Because of this, Ryan was friends with my eldest brother despite the fact that David was a senior and Ryan just a freshman. I use the term "friends" loosely. As David tells it, Ryan once tied him to a chair and left him face down in a puddle. Either way, that is how he and I met. My older brothers and I would arrive at school earlier than most, and Ryan would already be there. One almost got the feeling that he was always there.
It seems almost as though I led two separate social lives in seventh grade. I made friends with kids my own age at break and at lunch time, but before and after school, I spent time with my brothers and their high school friends.
I made some of my best friends in seventh grade. Michael was in my PE class, but I didn't officially "meet" him until his friend tried to sell me chicken at lunch time. I bought some but never received it (I'm still waiting to get my 30 cents back). KellyAnn sat next to me in Math for most of the year, but I didn't officially "meet" her until we were in the school production of West Side Story. I was a Jet girl, she was a Shark guy (Most of the "guys" in that play were actually girls). Amy was still at our elementary school that year, but I would call her every night and gush (mostly about high school boys).
Ryan, the topic of many of our conversations, was the first of my many embarrassing junior high crushes. My brothers' friends and the high-school-theatre guys made up the pool of my potential soul-mates. Somehow, at different points in time, I managed to convince myself that each of them was the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life. I cringe when I recall the way I spoke and behaved around them and couldn't possibly write about it in detail.
At the end of seventh grade, I sent Ryan an email, confessing my feelings for him. Now, I kick myself for how seriously I took the situation. When he didn't email back, I was "heartbroken," but I soon became grateful that he never, ever mentioned it.
posted by Sarah at 5:59 PM
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