Note: This blog was originally published on my MySpace blog, June 17, 2008.
The first boy I was ever fascinated with was this strange kid my mom babysat. I don't remember a lot of details about him, other than he would fall down our stairs. Constantly. Spectacularly. I remember I'd sit in the living room and wait for him to fall (at least once a day) because I loved to watch him flip head over heels. I was kinda twisted that way. I was also in the first grade.
Now, the first boy to make my stomach flip over didn't come along until fifth grade. His initials were CR and I still think his full name was one of the coolest I've ever heard. I think this is a lot coming from someone who's spent hours coming up with just the right name for a character.
CR was not one of the cool kids, because in fifth grade 'cool' is defined by how many friends you have amassed. He was a loner. He wore a lot of black. He had dark hair and dark dark eyes.
Man, he was beautiful.
He kept to himself, but sometimes I'd sit next to him on the playground and hand him a stick of gum. He'd take it and we'd watch the other kids for a while. We didn't talk very much.
We also had an advanced math class together. Sat in the very back row which, conveniently, only had two desks. The teacher had a fish tank against the wall that had sharks swimming around inside it. Those sharks are probably why we sat there.
There was one day when I knew that I was absolutely, irrevocably in love with CR, and this is where my twisted nature from above comes into play:
We were sitting in math class, bored out of our minds. For no reason I would ever understand, CR lifted his arm, peeled a scab off his elbow, and gave it to me.
I know, I know. At the top of the list of Oh-So-Wrong things to find romantic. And the wrongness pervades me to this day—my stomach still flips over whenever I remember that moment. Looking back, I can't fathom who was more unhinged. Him for giving it to me, or me for taking it.
And, gawd, when he gave me that scab, I *know* my face lit up. He blinked at me, like he was dazed by my reaction, then he smiled back, real wicked and slow. It was the first time I'd ever seen him smile.
Seriously, no fifth grader should have that kind of power.
CR was my first real, toe curling crush. To this day I blow out a slow, measured breath whenever I think of him. This is the first time I'd ever told anyone about him, though, which got me wondering—
Who was your first crush? What was it about them that hooked you?