I never thought I would understand the song my mother kept singing to me. When I first told her about meeting James at the pool, she started humming about summer lovin’ and I walked away from her. She would start humming it every time I brought him up, so I stopped though she would quiz me from time to time and then start humming.
Being twelve is hard enough when everything inside you seems to break itself down to reform from innocent child to a woman with wisdom and responsibility and grown up concerns. I didn’t need her mocking me, particularly since this was the first time I had fallen in love. And I fell so hard.
James and I spent every spare moment together. We went back to the pool, where we first met. We swung side by side in the park. We even rode our bikes to our favorite ice cream place and picked two different flavors to share. As the summer dragged into fall, I knew our relationship would change. I just figured we would need to adjust to not being together every waking minute of every day.
The the last day of summer arrived. I ignored my mother’s questions at breakfast. Eventually she gave up and moved on to worrying about my baby brother’s future. I swallowed the last bite of pancake and waited impatiently for James to arrive. Usually, he knocked on the door within minutes of that last bite, but that morning the minutes stretched into an hour. Restless, I kept changing my position. I started on the couch and then moved to the chair on the front porch. I eventually returned to the couch. As I opened the door to perch on the porch again, James almost rapped on my face.
“Hello.” I said awkwardly, stepping back.
“Sorry I’m late.” He replied, giving me a sheepish expression.
“No problem. Just didn’t want to miss our last full day together.”
“About that,” He took my hands. “Let’s have a seat.” He led me out to the porch, letting go of my hands as I slowly lowered myself into one of the chairs.
I waited for him to speak with my hands folded in my lap, but he just watched me with sad eyes.
He finally sat across from me and reached for my hands again, “I should have told you this weeks ago…” His voice broke as he gazed into my eyes so intently I felt like he hoped I would know what he wanted to say.
“Told me what?”
“My parents decided to move. Well, I guess my dad’s job decided.” His grip on my hand tightened. “The moving truck is at my house now…”
“You’re moving, but we were going to….”
“I know. I know. My parents told me I’ll get over it.”
“You mean over me?”
“Yeah.” He sighed, his shoulders slouching. “I told them they were wrong, but…”
“We’re just kids,” I muttered.
“So we have to say good-bye.” He rose from his chair and pulled me up with him, hugging me so tight I struggled to breathe.
“But I don’t want to…”
“Me either.”
We stood like that, holding onto to those last seconds of summer and first love until a loud honk pulled us out of each others arms.
“James, come on.” His mother called out the car window.
“I’ll miss you forever.” James raced down the stairs to hop in the back seat.
He waved until the car turned the corner and so did I. Then I sank to the top step and let the tears flow.
~~~Ah, the end of summer. I hope you squeeze in as many ice cream sundaes and pool parties as you can (or already did if school already started for you). My oldest can’t wait for school to start. Apparently, I am no fun, which means I am succeeding as a parent. My youngest burst into tears about the thought of leaving me for school. Good thing she only has a couple of hours a few days a week, so she might forgive me.~~~
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