Litkicks Message Board Archive
Who's this person?
Well, I was sitting in the class, and the boy turned around, and was staring at me. It had been my second day of class, and already, some boy was staring at me. He looked kind of Hispanic-looking, with short cropped blond hair, (which I would later find out, was dyed).
Why was this guy staring at me? Usually, when you start school, you have to wait at least two weeks, for the friendships to gel, and usually at least three months, for some guy to start talking to you, like, normal. This was my tenth school, that I was going to, and so I should know.
Ah, how I had envisioned, that the school I was going to go to, would be small, and filled with opportunity for me to excel, at everything. I had seen only 3 students on the website, and so had mistakenly thought that there would be only three or four students, at the school. Unfortunately there were at least 400 students, at the school, but my junior and senior class was small. I didn't know what I was going to do. I could either be a "loner" girl, who excelled at art, had maybe one or two friends,and bury my nose into a political science or flash British modern fiction book, day in and day out, whilst sitting outside at a teen's rec. center table, or I could knock all of the teenager's socks off, and try to be in every club, and act way outgoing, and try to become super popular. But, then, I thought, oh, fuck it.
Ten schools will do that, to a person, you know.
It wasn't exactly like, I was an orphan. But, when you go to school after school, after the tenth one, you gotta say, fuck it.
Little did I know that most of these students were having something significantly in common, with me. First of all, we were all mostly Americans, who were stuck in the lovely old country of Blighty. And second, most of us had gone through the military system, shipping off to a new location and school and to meet new friends, every one-half, to three years. I could see a lot of kids, that looked like me, but, yet, acted way different. And, I saw a lot of kids who had my personality, but were a, little different from me. A kind of, "make the best of it" personality, mixed in with the "I've given up after 15 schools" true persona.
What was weird, was that, while there were distinctive groups, and a few cliques, overall, everyone pretty much got along, with every body else. Mixed in with the dormies, and the jocks, and the preps, the one or two hippies in jr. and sr. grades, and the club/d.j. "wicked massive" kids, plus various other hybrid or independent genres, we all at different levels and at different situations throughout the school year, would abso-bloody-lutely, get along with each other. Really pull together, together, when the chips were down.
I felt like,I really didn't want to bother getting real close to people since I would be leaving them all, in a year, but, I figured, since this would be my senior, year, I would try to make a new batch of best friends, and then send me way off to college. My best friends back home, were over 6,000 miles away, so, hey they would not know.
I sat in the class, and we watched the required film. I didn't know anyone else yet, and was the only new kid, so far, in the class, since school had started two weeks earlier, and I had already gone back to the U.S., and back.
This ethnic looking guy, I couldn't really tell what he was like, just by facing him, but I could figure this much. Any guy who would like me, really had to be independent, and special, to like me. A kind of person, who had friends, but also didn't really follow the crowd, or really give a fuck what other people thought, but only to a point.
Bingo! Charles was just like this, except he was like my total opposite, trapped in a man's body. He had grown up an "Enlisted kid" while I had grown up an 'officer's kid". He had lived at this school for almost 8 years, and his parents were shipped off to some mystical hidden, Italian mystery land.
He was definitely a salt of the earth kid, who had he been back home, probably would have gone fishing a lot, and hung out in the country, a lot. We were total opposites, so, naturally we had to end up hanging out together.
He ended up becoming my best guy friend that year, and of course, he asked me out. I didn't love him in the same way that he loved me, and since, I figured that this guy, could have maybe married me someday, I felt really really bad. But this guy stuck around, and he would ask me stuff every once in a while like did I like his new hair dye colour, today?
I lived in London, while he lived stuck at the school. I went to theaters, and hip restaurants, and giant, free parks, with giant green bushes, and tropical flowers, and he lived stuck at the school.
Oh, how I loved that boy, even if we weren't supposed to get married.
I was always studying, trying to get into a top college. He asked me why I didn't go to the school ring, dance, and I told him that I had gone to a rave, in London.
He talked to our English teacher about how to make certain hard licqour concoctions to pass the time in our laid-back school. He spent the entire year, when he didn't have to listen to the teacher yabber, turning around and staring at me. Like a meaningful loving stare.
This school was different, and I got to meet his Mom, when she flew in, from, La Mad. She looked a lot like me, eerily pale with reddish hair, but about a foot shorter. I didn't know whether to be flattered or creeped out.
I spent the entire year, in love with some other, Canadian fool who never asked me out, but who was my second best guy friend.
At this military-related aschool, we all knew whose father's rank was to who's kid, and we all in our minds, at least, seperated each kid by either he was an "enlisted kid", or an "officer's kid". I had one female best friend, at the school, and I kept to myself a, lot of times, by reading books.
Charles was probably the first guy I ever came across, who would try to get me to "go off, and escape with him", a lot. When I'd be cramming and hunched over a book, in the library, he'd come in, bring me a Coke, and we'd start to talk about life. When I'd be stressed, and running through, the halls, with big test, or art drawing deadlines, he'd stop me, to give me a slow hug, and always ask me, "how are you doing? Are you o.k.?"
I knew that we wouldn't probably ever end up together, in our life, but I really wanted him to stay in my life and keep in touch, with him for years, at least till we were at age 100. Have you ever felt that way?
I made straight A's my senior year, won a major art award, and applied to top colleges, but then, later decided to stay in England and go to college, when I found out, I still "wasn't good enough". Charles graduated with four D's, and three C's, to his name, and 10 in-school suspensions that year.
He was going off, to enlist, in the military police (the mp's), that year. I had to succeed, at no abso-fucking-lutely matter what.
I remember at the beginning of the school year, when Charles would "trap" me into a deep life conversation at the beginning of class in a day, and we talked about our father's military ranks, and so forth. When Charles asked me, "well, would you ever consider going into the military?" I knew that our friendship would be cemented, forever. Finally I was at a school, where someone "non-civilian" would understand my life and where I came from. A school where people wouldn't laugh at you if you were either, a punk, or if you wanted to later become an F/18 pilot.
I saw him a couple more times, throughout the year, and at one event, our extended families had visited, for a social "banquet dinner" Charles and I stood alone in the room where the food was set up. I pointed out my Grandma's purple marshallow fruit salad, and then stared at him longingly. Oh, how, I wanted to reach over and hug him, tightly, and whisper into his ear, that I "loved him". But, I was not really in love with him, so I knew it wouldn't be fair. He saw me again, throughout the rest, of the year, and would keep on giving me tight, meaningful hugs. And before you know it, we were graduated. I went to a drunken pub-hopping gradfest that night, with about 40 of my graduating class members, and about 20 wanna-be juniors. About 15 onf my grad class members were not in attendance, and Charles happened to be one of them. I didn't want anyone more to be there, than him, however. So, no more tight hugs, for me, I guess.
And, I had never seen him, after that. He didn't give me an address to write him, to, so I guess, that was that. And, in those 5 years since, I have to say, in all truthfulness, I've never met a man, exactly like him, since.