This was many years ago.
There was a group of us, similar age. Boys and girls, etc. I quite fancied one or two of the guys. Good looks, tall, stuff like that. I was shallow and vain. (I suppose I still am.)
I never fancied B. He’s more like a buddy. Very smart , quick wit, funny etc. Being the youngest he’s thought as too naïve. And he’s dirty too, literally. Personal hygiene was never high on his priority list. Silly, isn’t it?
He was the one I had the most laugh with – making fun of the other, stuff like that. I was bossy, they all let me bossed about. B’s always the best game.
There was this one time. I was riding my bike with a few of the guys – two of them I fancied then (not at the same time) and B. They talked about shooting pool. I said I’d pass – not interested in guy’s stuff.
I started riding to the direction of my home. I was already off at the other side of the intersection when B started calling out my name at the top of his lung.
It was a HUGE intersection. Tons of traffic too. B’s being a smallish boy, it’s a good effort to make his sound carry over the diagonal of the square.
I was embarrassed. A bit mortified being the center of unneccsary attention from strangers. At the same time, a bit touched. Gleeful too though I really shouldn’t be of course.
Anyhow I got off my bike. They rode over. Back and forth and I reluctantly became persuaded.
Nothing happened afterwards. They went shooting pool, with my tagging along. I ended up talking with one of the guys I fancied. B played all the time. I rarely paid any attention to how the game went.
Memory is a playful thing. I don’t know why that moment stuck with me. Perhaps I liked him too – although I was too busy to register that into my conscious. Until now.
