I first met Grayson when my mother invited her longtime friend, Emily, who just moved back to town, over for dinner. Our mothers knew each other when they were in college and they eventually drifted apart, but not too far apart. On that same evening, I had the displeasure of having to sit across from Emily’s son, who just so happened to be my age, while our parents reviewed what had happened in the 2 years since they saw last each other.
We were five at the time and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even remember that insignificant event; in fact I’m not even sure why I remember, maybe I just have a very good memory. He didn’t even bother to say ‘hello,’ instead, he just took a Gameboy out of his jacket pocket and proceeded to play Sonic. Being the mature girl I was back then, I just rolled my eyes and continued watching movies. Now, if that happened, I’d rip the Gameboy out of his hands and chuck it out of the window and then later, I’d retrieve it and smash it into smithereens with a sledge hammer.
That wasn’t the last time I’d seen him. We attended the same school for the next few years and we still are in the same school. We never talked. He hung out with the boys who played multiple sports and did pull ups on the monkey bars while I hung out with the girls who always had their heads in books. As you can see, we just aren’t similar.
During freshman year, I grew to hate him. Not only did he excel in sports and in academics, but he excelled relationship wise
or lack thereof
, something I realized I was terrible at. I had only two boyfriends up until now. He had girls falling at his feet; some girls would stare from afar while I, the only sensible one, would glare from afar. It’s not like he ignores the girls, every time I see him, he’s charming one or another. During lunch time, my friends and I would hold back the urge to vomit while he locked lips with a ‘lucky’ girl. As you can probably tell, I would sit facing away from him. I choose to keep my lunch down, thank you very much.
He even has the audacity to wink at girls in the hallway, but only the pretty ones. His eyes skim over me and my friends. My friends and I don’t care, though. We find his acts of overconfidence annoying and agitating, or at least I do and when I talk about it, Sandra and Lola tend to agree
although they find him inexplicably attractive
.
He also drives a motorcycle, he learned how from his father, who used to own a bike shop. I heard about how he got his driving permit at the age of 15 from Emily while my mother had the phone on speaker as we made dinner. I also heard how he got his official license a few weeks after his 16th birthday and how he even took a special test to be able to drive a motorcycle. I have my license, too, but he got his first- which isn't fair because I had to take the loud school bus to school while he drove with his friends. I remember when I missed the bus and watched as his friends laughed and hooted in Grayson's father's car when they drove past me.
Sandra and Lola find it odd that I know as much as I do about Grayson’s life, seeing as I hate the guy but I blame it on our mother’s close friendship. Even our father’s hang out every so often but it seems that we can’t get along. We have some things in common; we have no siblings; we’re both seniors; and we both have dogs. Actually, our families went to pick out the dogs together, I bet he doesn’t remember that either, even though it was more recent. In fact, it was only 3 years ago, when we were 14. They were graduation gifts for the 8th grade.
Sometimes, I feel as if I know a bit too much about Grayson and if we ever happened to talk to each other
highly improbable
, I’d come off as a stalker, so I guess it’s good that we don’t talk to each other because the less creepy I come off as, the better.