I was just a girl
cutting paper doll chains
and recording mock newsroom interviews on the cassette player
I was just a girl in the sun and the clouds in the rain and the snow
in a small town with small town dreams and small town troubles
But the world was all around, whispering bigger dreams and greater troubles
in our ears, to who we were
I giggled with the best of them
We ran with our bright-colored summer dresses in our hands
We slapped the white concrete with our orange, pink, or green jelly shoes.
We laughed and skipped and our hair was tied back but still it fell down around our eyes and the sun had to dapple through the strands
We were very young
It lasted forever
I always envied Susan, because she was so pretty and all the boys liked her.
Looking back, I see that I was pretty-enough and enough of the boys liked me.
But at the time, my views were very constricted, and I was jealous of Susan.
But not really that much, since mostly we were best friends and we had lots of fun and she was always so nice
Susan and Samuel were always the perfect pair.
In grade school, nobody really went with anybody and we’d have wild crushes on different boys for different whiles, and once in a while somebody would be “going out” with someone else, but it never amounted to more than the occasional walk home and I think I recall at least one example of a couple going all the way to the mall together — driven and chaperoned by one of their siblings.
We didn’t have a separate middle and high school. At seventh grade you graduated from the elementary school and crossed a couple big roads to get to the high school (assuming you came from lakeside of the elementary school; otherwise I guess you had less streets to cross). It was
Author: I forget. No, really, I do.