Isn't it strange how memories and remembrances are triggered by the simplest, most obscure things? And isn't it amazing how well we can remember even the little details of seemingly small moments?
I was listening to a song as I was getting ready for bed tonight - a song that's been only a few years; a song that's not vital to any momentous period of my life. But it mentions being 14 in one of it's verses, and as I brushed my teeth, I tried to picture myself when I was 14 years old.
One specific memory fluttered back to me as I tried to recall that teenage year. I was amazed at how well I remembered it. But it was a memory of a moment I loved so much, one I mulled over so often just after it happened, that perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that even now, 11 years later, it's still so vivid to me.
Of course it's about a boy.
Ryan J*., to be specific. He was a year older than me - a Sophomore to my Freshman in high school. He was a very long-lasting crush. Probably the first boy I liked in high school (not counting any carry-overs from middle school - which were many...). I thought he was so cute. And, in fact, he was really cute - I'm pretty sure most of the girls I knew were in love with him.
But I - I got to interact with him. Take that, majority of freshman girls who had no such opportunities to talk to him!
We were in Mr. B's World Studies class together. I saw him every day. And for awhile, we sat by each other, too, according to the seating chart. By the door, kitty corner from each other. I was in the front corner seat, by the door, and he was in the row next to me, one seat behind the front. Best seating chart ever.
We also ran cross-country together. We didn't interact much from that at first (or maybe ever), but I saw him a lot, during practice or at meets, and that was just fine for me.
Class was where we mostly got to know each other - between Mr. B having us discuss something in small groups with the people we sat by (we always ended up in a group of 4 together, with out seat placements), and pre-class chatter (about cross-country meets or practices, or whatever someone else near us was talking about), I got to talk to him a lot. Or rather, I got to
flirt with him a lot. As much as an innocent 14 year old girl knows
how to flirt (which really isn't much...). Somehow, we became casual friends - which made my heart flutter anytime I thought about it.
But the memory that came to me tonight was of one specific, exalted moment with Ryan.
It was the week of mid-term exams.
As I'm guessing most high schools offered, we got the choice to take an exemption from a certain number of exams in a semester - one exam if we also had study hall in our schedule, two exams if we didn't have study hall. And if you exempted an exam one semester, you had to take that class's exam the next semester. So obviously, you tried not exempt from a class the first semester if the final exam was based on the whole year's information. You had to think hard about what exams to skip on the midterm - it took some careful planning, to get the most out of the privilege.
I didn't have a study hall my freshman year, so I got to exempt two exams. And World Studies was a class that separated its midterm and final to only cover that semester's information, so it was my safest midterm to skip. I don't remember what other class I chose to pass on, but I know I made very thoughtful decisions for the year. But the careful planner in me almost gave way to the boy-obsessed girl in me, when I found out that Ryan was taking the midterm exam. I was missing an opportunity to spend one more hour with him before Winter Break! But I forced myself to be strong in my decision, and hoped the best would come from it.
The last day of exams, a half-day, I made it through the last test I had to take, then met my friend Emily outside on the sidewalk - her mom was going to pick us up, so we waited for her with all the rest of the jelly-brained freshmen and sophomores awaiting rides home.
It was unseasonably warm for December, and we enjoyed standing outside with coats slung over our bags instead of trapping us in identity-concealing igloos of down feathers as a protection from the usually biting Winter wind. The warmth and the end of exams made us giddy, and we chatted and laughed about nothing.
And then I noticed - Ryan J. was standing not too far from me, just down the sidewalk, with just a few people between us.
I pointed him out to Emily, and we tried that thing we'd heard about in
Seventeen magazine - something about "catching his eye" as we laughed a little louder, positioned ourselves to be more in his eyesight, and attempted whatever else might make him see us.
And amazingly, it worked!
Ryan walked up to me.
He had just finished taking the World Studies exam. It was apparently really hard, he said, and I responded that I was glad I had skipped it then, though now I was worried about the final (side note: the final wasn't really that hard...). Then we chatted a little bit about other things. Christmas, being out of school for a much-needed vacation. I think I had the presence of mind to introduce Emily at some point, but really, this was all about me and Ryan. I prayed that Emily's mom would be late, that she'd be stuck behind a long line of cars, that Ryan and I would have to talk a little longer because his ride would be late, too.
And then suddenly, Emily's mom was there. Her car was 10 feet away from us.
Emily slowly got up and made her way to the car, doing her best to stall for me, that I might get a few more moments, even just precious seconds, to keep talking to him. After she got there, I motioned to her mom's car and said I should probably go, too - wishing I could just stay a little longer. He agreed that it looked like my ride was here, and he smiled - such a cute, cute smile - and said goodbye, have a nice vacation. I smiled and responded likewise, then walked over to the car and got in.
Emily started freaking out as soon as I got in the car, and I told her we had to control ourselves until we were out of view - though I was barely contained myself. I looked back over at him, with little luck in hiding my ridiculously giant grin, and he smiled again, with a little wave of goodbye. I of course waved back, and then turned to Emily, who blurted, "Oh my gosh, Kate, can I just live through you right now?!?!"
And I laughed drunkenly, saying, "Yes, yes, please do!" And we told her mother everything. Everything about the moment, because we knew it meant that he was in love with me. Or at least, he kinda liked me back. And that knowledge had to be shared with everyone.
It was the greatest thing that had happened to either of us girls in the history of Crushes.
It was also the pinnacle of my relationship with Ryan.
We came back from Winter break to new seating arrangements in class, which put us further away from each other. We still talked occasionally, but not as easily and often as before. And then the school year was over, and the next year, we were very different people, living very different lives. I still thought he was the cutest boy I ever saw, but I knew that was all he'd ever be to me. And it was all I wanted him to be. I barely knew him, I realized - but that was how I wanted to keep it. I didn't want to know any more about him, because I liked the boy I pictured him as, and I didn't want to ruin that. I liked what we had, and I didn't need anything more. Because I knew I'd only be disappointed - a real man never lives up to the man a young teenage girl has created in her imagination.
But that moment, that brief encounter with the boy I liked so very much, and the feeling of excitement it created - that moment has lived on, immortal, in my memory. There are a few memories filed under the label of "BOYS & CRUSHES" that are precious to me. Few, if any, are anything grandiose and life-changing. Yet. But they impacted me and made distinct impressions on my mind and heart. I can still recall even the feelings of that moment - the giddiness bubbling in my blood at his approach, the nervous excitement that made my heart pound as I tried not to faint. The chaos of thoughts in my mind while I listened to him talk.
I like those little moments in life best. They're easiest to capture, I think.
I think that's what makes me a "romantic." It's not the big, movie-like romantic gestures that just don't work in real life because they feel too staged and focused on the act, not the person. It's the naturalness of person-to-person, where you know it's real, and the simplicity of the moment is what makes it a Moment.
And these are the Moments I'm so glad my mind has kept strong records of. Because I love remembering them, and grinning like an idiot with each sweet memory.
* Full name withheld to protect against google searches for the name leading back to this blog...because how embarrassing would that be?!
