She Loves You Not
You know how every class, whether it’s elementary or middle school, always has that one child who struggles more than others, may have issues at home, or needs extra support from a tutoring aide?
I’ll not name the person, but in my seventh-grade year, I ended up being seated next to such a kid. His personal troubles involved a mom who relocated to Australia with her partner, leaving him behind. Seeking laughter from peers, he’d pull pranks. And because we were all immature, amusement typically meant someone else’s misfortune.
I had a pretty average appearance and I attempted to improve—or worsen—that by adding a bit of flair to my daily attire. One day, I chose to wear sandals adorned with purple leather flowers. They were deemed quite stylish for a Grade 7 kid.
I couldn’t ever forget what he did to me—he chose to rip off the flower from my sandal while I was busy. He continued to tear each petal away, all while playfully mimicking the “She loves me, she loves me not” phrase. I was so shocked at the magnitude of his audacity that I was momentarily speechless, simply seething in my seat.
Naturally, all my classmates were eagerly observing the spectacle. Eventually, brandishing the last petal, he declared triumphantly, “She loves me!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I retorted, “No she doesn’t. She moved to Australia.”
I’ve never seen a kid appear so heartbroken before. He excused himself to the restroom and spent the rest of the day shedding tears. He never said or did anything remotely cruel to me again.