The summer before 4th grade, we moved to Morris. I turned nine the day before school started and I was kind of excited to share that with people.
There was one problem.
I was the new kid.
Who was I going to tell?
Besides, there was something more important happening that first day of school.
A classmate didn’t show up because he had been in a bad car accident. The first day I saw Steve was 2 or 3 days after school started, and he had a bunch of scars on his face. He also had a broken arm.
When he walked into school, everyone asked him how he was doing. I had NO idea what was going on. To me, Steve had always looked like that. I never knew him before his accident and even now whenever I think of Steve (which isn’t ever to be honest), I immediately think of what he looked like those first days of school.
Both he and I were selected to be on the Student Council (Steve because he was popular and me because I was the new kid–I totally bet that was the reason). But that’s about as much interaction with Steve as I ever had throughout the rest of elementary school and until we graduated. Steve would continue to be the cool kid and even though I wasn’t the new kid anymore, I totally wasn’t a part of his crowd. And that’s okay.
I just wonder what he would think of my memory of him.