Boys number 6 and 7: Garrison and Tim. Our interaction began in elementary school. Garrison had those glasses that turned to sunglasses in the sun. I was embarrassed for him. And then my mom made me get the same ones. I was embarrassed for me. Turns out I had more things to be embarrassed about. Like the fact I only showered once a week and had hair that was constantly sticking up in one way or another. 3rd grade was a rough year. I got it in my head that I wanted to donate my hair to locks of love. So they cut it off and it hung just about to my cheek bones. I cry whenever I get my hair cut because I’m secretly afraid that I will look like that again.
Anyway, Garrison, Tim and I were best friends. We did everything together. We played on the swings, the jungle gym, we even ate lunch together. I was so happy that I finally had friends! Back in third grade I thought I was a writer. I seriously thought I was a child prodigy. I would write stories and read them in front of the class. They were about Garrison, Tim, and me and our adventures with socks. That’s right, socks. I was obsessed with them for some reason and I thought I was hilarious. Tim was a cool kid and I embarrassed him when I included him in my stories. He told Garrison that if he kept playing with me, they wouldn’t be friends anymore.
Garrison was loyal to me for a while, but eventually he couldn’t take the exile and he started ignoring me. I couldn’t understand why they didn’t want to play with me, so I followed them everywhere like a lost puppy. Then one day, I said hi to Garrison on the bus and he said, “Don’t talk to me. We aren’t friends.” I rode the rest of the way home in tears.
Three long years passed before we really talked again. I was in sixth grade. I was hot stuff. I had finally earned my right to sit at the back of the bus. Granted I had to wait till the stop before my stop to sit there… but regardless, I was there. Garrett moved down to sit by me. We exchanged awkward conversation about how it was the last day of 6th grade and how our lives were about to change forever and all the good times we had. Then he got off the bus and it was all over. I went home happy that he didn’t hate me anymore.
A couple more years passed before we were really in each other’s lives again. It was ninth grade. I had joined choir a year before and I was finally in the mixed ensemble. It was very exciting because I got to be with BOYS. I loved boys. I was the boy craziest person out there. It was the night before we were about to leave for Flagstaff for a big festival. And it just so happened that it was the midnight premier of Spider man three. I begged and begged and begged my dad to let me go since I could sleep on the bus ride to Flagstaff. He finally relented and agreed to let me go.
I arrived at the theatre with my step siblings. We were just settling into our seats when I heard some one call my name. I turned around and saw a big group of choir kids. Not just choir kids- choir BOYS. I was really excited that they had called me up there because I was so used to being the nerd that no one wanted to hang out with. So I ran up the stairs and sat by them. We chatted for a while and then Garrison said, “Why don’t you sit by me?” So I moved over a few seats and we chatted it up. Then the movie started. He kept leaning over and putting his hand over my hands, which were folded in my lap to tell me “interesting facts” about the movie. He would leave his hand over mine for a little longer every time. So finally I said, “Garrison, if you want to hold my hand, just do it.” And so he took my hand.
I had never done this before. I was sure he could feel me shaking. I felt like my whole body was convulsing. I had never been so nervous in my whole life. I remember being annoyed because he wasn’t just holding my hand. He was tickling my palm with his fingers and expecting me to do the same. But I didn’t like it. I just wanted to hold his hand. This went on through the whole movie. As soon as the lights went up, He dropped my hand and exited the theatre with his brother. No farewell of any kind.
I went to bed confused and so full of hormones that it was hard to sleep. The next day I woke up early and did my hair and make up as cute as I knew how and left the house. We were directed onto the bus when we first arrived. When I walked on, I could tell that Garrison had not arrived yet. I sat in my seat at the window and waited for him to arrive. And then I saw him.
I have never been able to describe the feeling I get when there’s a new boy. It’s like a shooting… feeling down my spine. It’s not painful, but I definitely don’t enjoy it. It’s like that feeling you get on a roller coaster when you go down a big drop. I can’t explain it… but maybe you get what I’m talking about.
He arrived at the school with his friends and they looked ridiculous. They were wearing neon sophies and sweat bands. Garrison’s happened to be pink. I shook my head and smiled at him when he got on the bus. He mostly ignored me and walked to his place at the back of the bus. Where the cool kids sit. Where I still wasn’t sitting.
The trip commenced. I was telling anyone who would listen about my experience with Garrison. I was telling them how confused I was and how I didn’t even think I liked him. They all told me to give him a chance. So I decided I wouldn’t break up with him right away.
When we got to the school, he held my hand in a very discrete way so that no one could see. I was quite frankly offended that he thought he had to be so secretive. But he made up for it when we got on the bus. He said, “Why don’t you sit with me at the back of the bus.” I thought like the coolest kid in the world. I was getting to sit at the back of the bus! He held my hand and we walked together in front of all our junior high class mates. I smiled at people like a celebrity and took my seat with the VIPs.
We cuddled all the way home. A girl looked over at us and said, “Are you guys like a couple or something?” Garrison looked at me and I at him and he said, “Yup!” She replied “Awe! That’s so cute!” Garrison just smiled and nuzzled me with his nose. I was starting to feel sick to my stomach. A couple? When did this happen? Why was I not told? And then he made the unforgivable mistake. He stuck his hand in the pocket of my sweater and started rubbing my stomach. Who does that? I’m not the Pillsbury dough boy. I was self conscious and I didn’t want him to see how fat I was. I removed his hand and told him not to touch my stomach. I didn’t want him to touch me at all anymore. All the good feelings were gone and I was reminded of the fact that I wasn’t attracted to him. No matter how much I wanted a relationship, I knew I couldn’t be in one with a boy I wasn’t attracted to.
I went home and thought about him the whole weekend. I knew I had to break up with him. I just didn’t know how. I finally decided that a note would be sufficient. It was short and sweet. “Garrison- I think we should break up. Love, Chelsy.” Yup. That’s what it said. I think I drew a picture at the bottom of a heart breaking in half. At school he greeted me with a “Hey, you.” I handed him the note and walked away. And that was pretty much the last contact we’ve had. Poor Garrison. I was such a heart breaker.
But now back to Tim. You’d almost forgotten about him, hadn’t you? Well there’s not much to report on him. He just ended up moving to my high school junior year. I flirted with him for a while, but after a couple months, it was obvious he was gay. So I left that one alone.
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