Romance at Recess
Written in 2002 for a grade twelve class, Writer’s Craft.
The bell for recess was loud. But that’s okay, cause I was outside already. My entire class was. Because we were good, Miss Paige let us have an extra five minutes of recess. I looked at the playground and it wasn’t the same, the amount of kids was just too small. But that’s okay, cause more and more people were coming.
“Hey Ty, how come you’re here so fast?” I turned around and looked at who was behind me, it was James.
“Cause Miss Paige let us have five more minutes of recess.” I smiled, cause I had five more minutes and James didn’t.
“So, whatcha wanna do?” He said and I scratched my head, cause there was a lot of things we could do.
“We could play on the monkey bars?” I said.
“Nah,” He said, “too many girls.” I looked over there and he was right, there were girls all over the place. I didn’t mind, cause I thought girls were nice, but James didn’t like them.
“How about on the swings?” I looked over there and saw a few kids from my class, laughing and playing around, I thought it was a good idea.
“Nah,” He said, “too many second graders.”
I looked at him. “But, I’m in the second grade.”
He looked at me, “Yea but… hey, how about we play tag? Freeze tag?” He asked?
“Yeah!” I quickly said.
Even though James and his friends were bigger than me, I didn’t mind playing freeze tag with them cause I was the fastest, I was always the last to be caught. After James called some of his friends, and I called some of mine, we played freeze tag and because they knew I was fast, I was it. But that’s okay, cause I got James quick, it was his idea for me to be it, and I got him back.
After a while, I got everybody, and we all just sat on the ground, laughing and talking about stuff. “Yu-Gi-Oh is the best, Pokemon sucks.” I said to James, he loved Pokemon, but I loved Yu-Gi-Oh – it was the best. As we were all talking, someone came up behind me.
“Ty?” They said, I turned around and it was Samantha, a girl in third grade, the same grade as James, who had red hair. “Here” she said, and she gave me a muffin with vanilla frosting and sprinkles on it.
I took the muffin and smiled, cause dad says smiling at girls is polite, and I turned around and looked at everyone else. It was kinda quiet, and before I took a bite, I saw everyone’s eyes looking behind me. I turned around, and she was still there. “Wha?” I said.
“Nothing.” She smiled at me and I smiled back and turned around.
Everyone else was looking at the muffin now, I’m sure they wanted some. But it was for me, Samantha gave it to me and that’s it. So I took a bite and it tasted so good. I turned around and she was still there, just smiling at me. I looked back at the muffin in my hand, there was no worms in it, and dirt never tasted so good. So I dunno what she thought was so funny. But it’s okay, cause I remember what my dad said. He said, sometimes, girls do funny things. Cause they’re sorta funny in the head. So I smiled at Samantha and got up. The sun was in my eyes, so it hurt to look up at her. Now, it was easy, and I smiled even more cause I got to look into her eyes – they were green, they were pretty. Always look into a girl’s eyes when you talk to them, my dad said, so I was making sure I did that. I know James didn’t like Samantha, they were in the same class, and he always told me bad things. But I liked Samantha, cause she was nice, and she was pretty, and her laugh was funny, and her hair smelled good, and she was really really nice.
“Do you wanna go to the monkey bars?” I said, cause I knew a lot of her friends were there and James couldn’t be mean.
“I’d like that Ty.” She smiled, and I smiled back and we walked to the monkey bars.
All the other boys were making sounds and stuff, and started singing about me and Samantha kissing in a tree. I always thought that song was weird. I didn’t mind the kissing part, cause mommy and daddy kiss all the time, but why kiss in a tree when you can kiss on the ground? But it’s okay, cause it didn’t matter, I asked her how she was – dad said girls always liked to talk more than anything and sometimes all you really had to do was listen to them. So I listened as she talked about learning, multip… multcation? Multipcation? I dunno something like that, I wasn’t really paying attention, cause I was eating the muffin, and it tasted so good.
By the time we reached the monkey bars, I finished the muffin, and she was still going on about her class and she was holding my hand! But I didn’t mind, cause her hand was soft, and it felt nice. I made sure to say things like, “uh huh” and “really?” and “oh” cause daddy says that it shows you’re paying attention, and that’s important. So, you can say that stuff, when you really don’t have anything to say. Talking to girls was easy – my dad is smart with girls. The recess bell rang loud again, I hated that sound, even more now cause it meant we had to go inside. But that’s okay, cause Miss Paige was going to let us color.
“Thanks for walking with me Ty.” She said.
“Any time,” I said, “thanks for the muffin.” She smiled, and I was polite and smiled back. Then, she reached over and wiped her finger on the side of my mouth and there was some frosting on her finger as she put her finger into her mouth and smiled, but it was a different kind of smile and her eyes were sorta different too. She then pulled it out with a sucking sound and the smile changed back, and her eyes changed back.
“Bye Ty” She said and waved and walked back to her doors.
But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe what happened. I scratched my head and I knew things between me and Samantha were going to be different. Really different.
But then I smiled, cause that’s okay.
This story was inspired by a lived experience in the first grade, 1990-1991. I would have been six and brand new to Canada from my birthplace in Jamaica. They say you never forget your first and I still remember her name; the first girl outside of the wonderful women in my family to plant a kiss on my face for what appeared to be no reason. My first Canadian friend was there — still the best of my friends at the time of writing — and it’s only from his memory that I know what I actually said after being kissed for the first time. What do you expect a six year-old to say? I said, “Woof!” and now I’m fairly certain that I was quoting a cartoon.
Imagine my surprise and embarrassment when asked to read this story for the class.
Good times; simpler times.