Growing out of the sandbox

Look up, for a moment. From the tiny huddle in the middle of class. From the silly jokes that only 13 year olds can understand. And you see her.

She’s new. You haven’t seen her before in class. There’s something different about her. Something about the way she walks. The way she talks. The way she laughs. Most importantly, the way she looks at you. It’s new. It’s interesting. It feels nice.

All this comes on the back of what has already been a pretty weird year. The girls, as a whole, seem different. You’ve already started wondering if cooties are such a big deal. You’re body’s going through a lot of change. Voice gets deeper but not completely, so it keeps switching from gruff to squeaky. Hair sprouts from unexpected places. And you’re outgrowing your clothes with a vengeance. It’s embarrassing, to say the least. That’s another thing. You’ve discovered a need for privacy, and how easily you can be embarrassed.

And now SHE’S in your life. Not a very big part of your life at first, but you two get talking. The two of you work together on school projects. She smiles a lot. You end up talking with her about a lot of things you never meant to. You try to impress her, with whatever the last 12 years of life have taught you. (It’ll be a long, long time before you find out that she talks about you with her girl-friends. You’re in for many, many more surprises along the way). But it doesn’t really matter. It just feels nice to be around her.

It just grows stronger. You absolutely MUST see her everyday. Every time she misses school ‘cos she’s sick, it leaves you with an empty feeling. You find yourself yearning for moments when the two of you are alone together. Yet, when those moments do come by you’re so tongue-tied, you don’t say anything. Or you make some silly, pointless jokes, which is even worse. Why does it have to be so hard, you wonder. You’ve rehearsed everything in your head, come up with very witty lines, and you’re sure you’ll sweep her off her feet. And yet, when those moments come…nothing.

Salvation comes to you eventually. One fine day, when you think you can’t stand it any longer, her girl-friends corner you. They ask you point-blank if you have a crush on her, because she does. You nod vaguely and stumble out of there. Although by then you’re probably on cloud nine, with stars in your eyes. Yet, it’s not all peachy. One half of you wants to jump around and hug everyone in sight. The other is worried. This is new territory. This is “adult” territory. What do you do?

The next day, you screw your courage, swallow your fears put up a brave face and talk to her. She still smiles, but there’s an anxious look in her eyes. You talk to her about how much you like her, how much she means to you. It’s weird, but all those corny lines you’ve heard about love seem so much more significant now. Finally you tell her you like her. She nods her head. Congratulations! You’re now officially in the very first relationship of your life.

(Look, it's my last Valentine's Day as a teenager. And I haven't got anyone to spend it with. Let me be.)