Maybe This Isn't the End Part 2

Maybe This Isn’t The End: Part 2

After that eventful Secret Santa, I decided to begin to show my emotions more. I began to talk to J more and more at every chance I got. Even at the spring middle school dance, I would talk and follow him throughout the dance. Although I didn’t get to dance with him, as my friends would drag me over to where the sixth graders were, just being near him was enough for me.
   
It didn’t take long for the school year to be over though. The weeklong break in between regular school and summer school seemed to be endless. It was only a week, I’d tell myself, only a week. It was only the longest week of my 12-year-old existence.

The day finally came. I could see J once again. I put on my best jeans and my new black Roxy blouse so I could possibly gain his attention.

I walked onto the campus, my head looking for a certain ponytail-wearing boy. He wasn’t to be found though causing my mood to decrease significantly. As I passed a group of upcoming freshmen I heard someone call out, “Hi Ashley.” I turned around and couldn’t figure out who anyone was in that group. Puzzled, I walked away trying to figure out who called out my name.

I had chosen to take both a Math and English course over the summer that year. I didn’t know anyone in the classes I too so I decided to try to be as quiet as possible in my classes as to not draw attention towards myself.

Bluntly, mission failed. I ended up being hyper in my English class when I made a new friend-over the course of a week or so. Her name is Akemi. She’s important to this tale.

During the third week of summer school, I had established a friendship with Akemi and she with me. She was taking tennis the beginning course of tennis after summer school so I decided to tag along for the ride.

You’d never guess who was in her class.

Ok, if you’ve been reading this so far I know you probably know already. It was J. Since J was in her class, I began to accompany her to classes more and more just to see him. I wanted to tell him I liked him but I knew I couldn’t since he was going to be a freshman and I was going to be a seventh grader. So I didn’t tell. I didn’t tell anyone till an afternoon in the locker room that faithful December day.

From the start of regular school to the time of me admitting I liked him to my friends a few events opened up his suspicions. Even his friend’s suspicions began to come clear. Not the best thing in the world considering they disliked me from the start.

The first event – actually a series but can be clumped together- involved me talking to J every single possible moment after school. This included, sitting at the table he sat at alone, looking at the book he was reading, asking what 9th grade was like, taking away his books when he wasn’t looking, hiding his bags, etc. etc. Foolish huh? The consequence of my actions didn’t dawn on me until J started to stay in a teacher’s classroom after school. Luckily, said teacher was my teacher this year.

The second event was in the teacher’s classroom. My friends and I had decided to help our teacher make an assignment calendar that would be hung outside of the classroom. It was October so we were given a large orange piece of paper, yardsticks, and a lot of sharpies. Our mission: to make it look as halloweeny as we could. J was recruited to assist us in such a thing when he wasn’t doing homework. When he was, he would sit down and work silently with his ipod shuffle playing instrumental music in his ears. My biggest mistake happens now.

I wanted J to pay attention to me, to state it bluntly. Maybe it was unstable 12-year-old hormones. Maybe it was jealously. Maybe it was because I was hyper. Whatever it may be, it made me on the dislike list of one of J’s friend’s list for the rest of my life.

I began to talk really loudly. Like really, really loudly. Almost shouting kind. Not smart to do in a room full of 9th graders attempting to do homework/play cards. I was also being odd by playing or doing something odd with the sharpies. And I was having a major fangirl attack on an anime, Ouran High School Host Club. A very bad combination.

My loudness eventually bothered one of them so much that he told me to shut up.

I shut up immediately. We finished the board up and left. It was a while until I went back into that room.

After that, I avoided him and his friends for a while. Easier said than done. It wasn’t like we had the same break times or anything, now that we were in different school levels, but I’d catch glimpses of him during lunch or school meetings or after school! I remember even now that at 3:15 ever day after school, he’d come running down the stairs to the snack bar to get something. I’d stay outside on those days to see him run down.

During a school fair in December, J’s martial arts group did a demonstration for the group of people gathered. My grade’s booth had sold out of everything and we were free to do whatever. O and I had watched them prepare for this without them knowing. When they left to go to the stage, I sat there mesmerized at their disciplined march. They were so cool! O tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me that we better get to the stage. We ran there in order to beat them there. Standing in an empty spot by a booth, we watched them do flips and other feats. My eyes only followed J though. His face was serious as he called out commands. Even though he was the shortest, he had the loudest voice and the most spirit. That still continues today.

After the performance, I wanted to congratulate him. But I couldn’t. Even now I’m not sure why. I stood there watching his retreating form as he and his friends ran off, back to their preparation area.

I wanted him to notice me. I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to talk to me, to say hi like before. Am I foolish for thinking this way? Am I foolish to have let this love go to waste? I probably am but I think I really was happy during that time.

This pattern continued till 8th grade.

At this point, J had gone to China over the summer, to perform with his group. I’d left many, many voicemails on his phone telling him how bored I was. In the end, I filled it up! That was the end of the my contact with him, he never returned my calls. Life moved on.

School resumed, and I had my first mixed class with upperclassmen. It was Japanese. Thankfully, most of the class were in the same grade as mine. The sensei did the roll call by first name. As the list rolled down, I heard someone with the same name as J’s called. My ears perked at this sound and I looked at the owner. It was another boy. He had shoulder length black hair and blue glasses.

A new chapter in this innocent play was about to unfold. A new chapter that I would soon regret.
 

hatsukoi hatsukoi
18-21, F
Mar 26, 2009