by Cece Peters
Once he was inside, I went over to my bedroom door and pressed my ear against it, listening for any signs my sisters or parents were heading upstairs. I knew they were all in the living room watching a movie; it had been too childish for me, hence why I was in my bedroom. Hearing nothing, I turned back around and gave Matty a smile. By then, my fever was gone and I was feeling fine. We just stood looking at each other for a moment before sitting down on the floor in front of my bed.
“I was worried about you when you weren’t at the game; but afterwards, Krista told me you were sick. So, I thought I’d better head over here to make sure you were okay.” Matty leaned over to me and put both hands on my cheeks, and then the back of his hand on my forehead. “Cool as a cucumber!” he proclaimed. “Were you faking it to get out of watching me play ball?” he asked with an exaggerated frown.
“No! I had a fever this morning, but I’m fine now,” I said, blushing slightly at how his warm hands on my face made me tingle. I suddenly realized I was only wearing my flimsy shorty pajama set, so I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them in order to cover myself better. “Sorry I missed your game, though. Who won?”
“Us, of course!” Matty answered a little bit too loudly before lowering his voice back down. “I even hit a home run.”
“You always hit a home run!” I said, rolling my eyes. “It would be news if you didn’t hit one.” We spent about an hour chatting about everything I had missed before, during and after the game. We were twelve years old on that day, and at that age, every single moment of the day seemed important enough to recap.
And from that night on, Matty made it a habit to climb up my trellis and come through my window. He only used the door when he was with me or my family coming home from school or an event. Otherwise, the window it was. In the years that followed, I only told Krista about it and swore her to secrecy. While we never discussed it, both Matty and I clearly felt we needed to keep it a secret, more so from his parents than from mine.
The start of seventh grade meant we moved to the second floor of our middle school, also getting new lockers and new teachers. There were seven periods (the first being homeroom, which only lasted twenty minutes) in each school day plus lunch. Each middle school grade was divided into two groups, with one group occupying one half of their respective floor and the second group the other half. Fortunately, our group of friends all ended up in Group A for seventh grade, meaning we shared most classes, had lockers in the same section, and sat together during school assemblies. We all looked down on the kids in Group B, thinking they weren’t as cool as we were.
Matty and I had math and science together that year, along with gym class, which was three times a week; art and home economics filled in the other days when we weren’t in P.E. We also shared the same homeroom and study hall period, meaning we were together for five of the seven periods each day along with lunch. Since our names were “Andrews” and “Boyd,” we were always alphabetically seated together. I actually liked not having him in my language arts and social studies classes as those were my best subjects. I was able to focus and participate more without Matty there to distract me.
Matty and all the boys from our friend group played seventh grade football; and just like we had in the summer for tennis and baseball, us girls went to all of the games, whether played on our home field or at one of the other middle schools in the surrounding area. My parents drove Krista, me, and a couple of other friends to every game, usually staying themselves to watch the boys play, as well as to talk to the other parents in attendance.
The seventh-grade football and basketball games featured cheerleaders; and by the time the basketball season rolled around, Krista had convinced me to sign up for the try outs. She had wanted us to try out for the football cheerleading squad earlier in the year but would not do it without me, and I had staunchly refused to even entertain the idea. However, she finally wore me down when basketball cheerleading tryouts were announced.
I was sick with nerves and equally terrified of both rejection as well as making the squad and having to cheer in public. Turns out, there were just enough girls in try outs so that everyone got a spot. And it wasn’t like we had to do anything complex, just yell and jump around a bit; so, the chances of not being selected based on skills were slim, anyway.
The boys played in two different groups, the A Team and the B Team. The A Team featured the best players; everyone else was on the B Team. And the cheerleaders alternated between both groups. So, sometimes I found myself cheering for the B Team, and other times the A Team, which was Matty’s team. Since the teams played back-to-back, I was always there to watch Matty regardless of which team I happened to be cheering for.
Surprisingly, I took to cheerleading. It helped bring me out of my shell; after all, I couldn’t just stand there while the other girls cheered and jumped. I had to participate and blend in. And I found it was fun to do the dance moves and cheer for the guys; plus, I secretly loved shaking my sparkly pom-pom’s. My favorite cheer was “Be Aggressive,” which we did at least three times every game:
Be aggressive!
B-E aggressive!
B-E A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E
We also cheered for each individual boy:
Matty, Matty, he’s our man!
If he can’t do it, no one can.
Gooooo, Matty!
I admit that I felt a little jealous if one of the other girls cheered louder for Matty than I did; he was MY player.
Basketball games, like the football games months prior, were played on Friday nights. We cheerleaders wore our uniforms to school on game days. I felt special walking around through the hallways in my sweater and skirt ensemble, even though they were itchy. We would decorate the boy’s lockers before leaving school the previous afternoon so that the guys saw their balloons and streamers first thing on the morning of game days. I would head home after school for a quick dinner before my parents drove me back for the game, which they also stayed for. They took countless photos of me cheering, and once my dad even brought his video camera to film me; but I only let him do that once as it was embarrassing.
Matty’s parents were always in attendance at every game, his dad yelling at his son the entire time. Afterwards, his folks usually wanted to go out to dinner with some of the other parents, so Matty would ride back to my house with me and my family. My little sisters, Sarah and Katie, who were eight and ten at the time, were always there, too. My parents had a minivan, and Matty and I would sit in the very back on the short ride to my house. The boys all showered in the locker room after games, and Matty always shook his wet hair at me. One time my dad suddenly swerved to miss a car that hadn’t stopped at the light; all of us yelped and were jostled around a bit. Matty took my hand and held it the rest of the way home.
Once at my house, I’d change out of my itchy cheerleading uniform and into comfy sweats before joining everyone else in the downstairs living room, where my mom would have laid out drinks and snacks and my dad would be looking for a movie to put into the VCR. We always tried to quiet down to watch whatever film ended up being chosen, but we usually spent the next couple of hours eating and chatting.
My dad loved to talk sports with Matty; they would often analyze the entire game Matty had just played, but of course my dad didn’t criticize Matty’s performance the way his own father did. And my sisters both had crushes on Matty, so he was the center of attention. We always sat next to one another on the sofa, and I never felt embarrassed of my family or annoyed I had to share him with them. Matty just seemed a natural extension of my family unit. He wasn’t my brother and he wasn’t my boyfriend; yet he was more than just a friend. At the age of thirteen, I couldn’t put into words what I felt for him. It was only later in life that I realized what I was feeling was simply unconditional love.
The summer between the seventh and eighth grades mirrored the summer before with baseball games and tennis matches. We were now old enough, however, to be dropped
off at places by ourselves, such as the city’s swimming pool. While many of our parents belonged to the country club, which had a pool, kids under sixteen could not be there without parental supervision. So, the city pool is where we went on the days when the weather was hot and sunny, and when the boys didn’t have sports practices or games. It was a huge, “L” shaped pool with three diving boards of varying heights. Once when I was in the fourth grade, I had jumped off the tallest board and did a belly flop onto the water. I never went near those diving boards again.
On one particular day, Matty and I found ourselves bobbing in the water of the main pool area, just the two of us, as our friends were all over at the diving boards. The diving boards were in their own section of the “L” shape where the water was the deepest, so Matty and I were pretty far away from our friends. It was a hot but overcast day, so there weren’t too many other people around, which was nice as it was typically crowded. We had drifted into the area of the pool where the water was five feet deep. I had to work to keep my mouth above the water line, but Matty was tall enough by then that he could stand.
I was continually bouncing off the bottom of the pool in order to breathe, and Matty could tell I was getting tired. Without saying anything, he came closer and pulled me to him so that he could hold me above the water. He put his arms around my waist, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him and put my arms around his neck. Our faces were so close together that we instinctively kissed. It was just a quick peck on the lips, but then Matty pulled me in for another kiss, and this time the kiss lasted longer.
We were startled by the sound of a loud whistle followed by a lifeguard yelling, “Hey, you two! Break it up!” Embarrassed and giggling, we both separated and swam towards the shallow end of the pool. I remember glancing over at the diving boards to see if any of our friends were watching, and I caught Krista staring at me with a big smile on her face. It was the only time anyone witnessed Matty and I kissing. However, it was not the first time we had ever kissed; nor would it be the last.
I could definitely feel myself changing that summer. I no longer cared about cartoons or playing childish games; I was more interested in clothes and pop culture and boys. I had a new crush every other week, it seemed, as my hormones raged. My girlfriends and I were out of control boy crazy that summer, even though the boys didn’t quite reciprocate. However, all of my crushes died out fast. In the end, the only boy I really cared about was Matty.
It was exhilarating to be able to do things without needing a parent to stay with us. We were now allowed to be at the shopping mall by ourselves (after being dropped off by an adult, of course), to eat lunch in the food court, and to see a movie at the theatre. Afterwards, someone would use the pay phone to call for a parent or older sibling to come and pick us up. We were all dreaming about the day we could drive; although getting our licenses was still over two years away. That was definitely the summer when I feel like I stopped being a child and became a teenager.
A few weeks before school started, both my parents and Matty’s gave us some money to shop for our back-to-school clothes. The two of us spent a rainy afternoon browsing through a department store, as well as a couple of chain stores that were geared towards teens, looking for jeans and sweaters for the upcoming year. Never mind that it was always hot and humid during the first weeks of school; we still looked for the perfect fall outfit to wear on our first day back.
Matty ended up picking out most of my clothes, and I chose the majority of his. He kept pulling bright blue tops for me to try on, but I insisted he pick out some other colors. So, he chose different shades of blue: navy blue, pale blue, aqua that was in-between blue and green. I was more drawn to darker colors, such as black and red; but I relented and went with a few of the blue pieces Matty picked out. I realized I wanted to please him more than I did myself. He agreed to everything I picked out for him; he looked so good in jeans and graphic tee shirts; and I also grabbed a few striped, long sleeve rugby tops for him, which were all the rage. We had to put back a couple of outfits as they were so similar that we thought our friends would think we were deliberately trying to dress alike.
Our eighth-grade year proceeded much as seventh grade had. We were now on the third and highest floor of our school, once again divided into two different groups. There was quite a bit of drama when Krista and Jimmy were put into the Group B side of the floor while the rest of our friend group was in the Group A section. But then they were moved into our group just a few days later, and we were all together again. There were rumors that Jimmy’s parents, who were both well-known, wealthy lawyers in our town, had intervened to get their son back with his friends. I remember thinking that Jimmy must have had them work to move Krista back, too, which I thought was so sweet of him.
While our daily routine of classes and lunch breaks mirrored those of the previous years, there was the added tension of high school looming ahead. Our teachers seemed to remind us every day that big changes were coming for us: a larger school, more students, harder classes, stricter teachers, and lots of homework. I am sure their intentions were to simply prepare us mentally for what was ahead, but it all ended up causing me major anxiety. So much so that, after one particularly harsh lecture by our science teacher, Mr. Knox, I ended up crying while standing by my locker. Fortunately, science was my last period of the day; and I managed to hold my tears back until the hallways had cleared out.
Mr. Knox’s words rang in my ears as I tried to hide behind my open locker door, just in case anyone happened upon me. “You kids need to be ready to go on day one of high school,” he had said sternly. “You can’t let yourselves fall behind. The first week will determine the rest of your academic career, including getting into college. Be ready to work harder than you’ve ever worked before.”
I felt sick to my stomach with worry. I had always done well in school, but I felt like I had to study harder than my friends. English was, of course, where I excelled; but I had started to struggle in math and science during the eighth grade, earning my first B’s ever in any subjects. And of course, both Mrs. Anchor and Mr. Jennings, my teachers for those classes, had insisted to my parents that I was capable of A’s. I was distraught that they were expecting me to do any better than I already was as I felt like I was barely hanging on to the B’s I had worked so hard for.
“LEE-AH, whatcha doing IN your locker?” Matty teased as he came up behind me and gently pinched my side. “Are you trying to crawl in there or something?” He leaned against the opposite side of my locker where my door was open, so he was not able to see my face. I could hear him unwrap a piece of gum before shoving it into his mouth. I’d thought he had basketball practice that afternoon, but I guess I had been wrong.
“Go away, Matty,” I choked through my tears. “Just leave me alone.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Matty came around to the other side of my locker so he could see my face, but I turned the other way. I knew that my face was red and puffy from crying, and I did not want him to see me that way.
“Nothing, just go already!” I said, struggling to steady my voice. Unfortunately, the effort of talking only made my crying intensify.
“Leah, hey, come here,” Matty reached out and gently put his arms around me and pulled me into a hug. We had danced before, held hands before, and of course, even kissed before; and while we sat side-by-side nearly every day, including on my bed alone in my room, we had never really hugged before, at least not for a prolonged period of time.
I let out a loud sob and allowed myself to sink into Matty, putting my arms around his waist. I buried my head in his chest while he wrapped his arms around me tightly. Matty had grown a few inches in recent months and was now significantly taller than me. “Leah, shh. Don’t cry. Tell me what happened. Was someone mean to you?”
I shook my head against his chest, unable to stop crying long enough to talk. Matty held me for several minutes, gently twirling my braid in his fingers, until I finally calmed down. I pulled
myself away from him, fully aware that my face was as red as a lobster and that my nose was running. But I didn’t even care anymore.
“I don’t think I’m gonna make it in high school,” I said, my voice shaking and the tears starting again. “You heard what Mr. Knox said. How hard it is going to be. How we must be ready to go on day one. I already feel like I am falling behind in school now. High school is gonna kill me.” I turned back around to my open locker to grab my backpack before slamming the door shut and starting to walk towards the staircase.
“Leah Andrews!” Matty said in a stern voice, falling into step beside me. “You are going to do great in high school. You are so smart; do not let that stupid Knox get into to your head. Plus,” and he stepped in front of me to stop me from going further, “you’ll have me. As you know, I am a genius. And I can help you if you need it. How many other kids have a genius for a best friend? You’re very lucky!”
“Yeah, you’re a genius,” I scoffed, not letting myself cave to his attempts to cheer me up. “And athletic. And popular. And the girls love you. You’ll probably drop me in high school because you won’t want to me seen with boring, stupid, ugly Leah.” I pushed past him dramatically the way only a fourteen-year-old girl can do and started again towards the staircase. “Might as well just ditch me now, Matty,” I called back to him. “It’s bound to happen eventually.”
Suddenly, Matty grabbed my arm and spun me back around. “Now that’s enough, Leah. Stop it with that talk. You are not boring or stupid or ugly. You are funny and sweet and smart and caring. And you are pretty. You have no idea how pretty you are.” I stood silently, staring back at him, not knowing how to reply to the words I had just heard. “And I am your best friend, now and always. A new school and a new grade will not change that. We will be together forever, no matter what. Pinky swear?” Matty held out his right hand, extending his pinky finger towards me. I felt a small smile forming on my face before I reached out and locked his pinky with mine.
