Don't Get Fancy Nancy
Mark Fitzgerald
Copyright 2012 by Mark Fitzgerald
Smashwords Edition
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Don't Get Fancy Nancy
I don't think you can be more in love than you can be at age eleven. I've never been.
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Kids aren't steered by facts; they are guided by the "sh_t" their parents say and by gossip. So, I don't know if Nancy is really the "poor child from the other side of the tracks". I don't know where the tracks are in fact.
I have a feeling that boys and girls have a greater purpose than being just traditional rivals. And I sure know that girls can be so pretty and that their prettiness almost makes me woozy in a way that is very exciting. Nancy most of all.
She's the only girl I ever saw that had really dark freckles all over her face and didn't have red hair. Her hair was long and thick and wavy, and her skin, where it didn't have a dot on it, was white as snow. Her eyes were icy blue and, I swear, her lips were red. Snow White with pepper on her.
She dressed more like a boy than a girl. She wore blue jeans sometime and even blue jean overalls. None of the other girls wore anything other than skirts. Her shirts were always "girly"; you know with little flowers and stuff. And she wore Basket Masters; those cheap black and white athletic shoes most of the boys wore. Year round.
She NEVER said a word in class. And, the teacher never seemed to ask her to.
I sat one row over and two seats behind and I watched her all day long and fell in love with her and have loved her ever since.
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The kids said she was from a poor family and, in consideration of that, no one played with her at recess or before or after school. If she was from one side or the other side of the "tracks", I knew the "tracks" must be on my side of the school. One the side of the school where my house was. She walked in the same direction as I did, at then end of the day. I never saw her walking to school. I think she got there extra early for some reason.
This is kind of strange to say. But I started walking behind her on my way home each day and I couldn't stop watching her bum. I liked the way the crease at the top of her jean legs switched from one bum cheek to the other with each step. Her bum was rounder than the other girls. It seemed to waggle from side to side more than the other girl's did. I liked that. I made me woozy. like I said. Her waggle made me woggle. Ha.
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Yesterday, I didn't walk so close. I wanted to follow her longer… maybe all the way to her house. I wouldn't want her to know that though. I had never been so far from home before. I would have been in deep doo doo had my mother known I was all the way to the other side of the "tracks". Yes, there were tracks and I went over to the "wrong" side of them. Not that anything on her side looked all that different from my side. Her house was as nice as mine, I guess. But, as soon as she went inside, and I turned to go home all I could think about was what being on the wrong side might portend.
Portend? I am the smartest kid in my class. Always have been and, like the smart kids, I read a lot. I know a lot of words. I use them; except with my friends. I accelerated too. Went right to grade three after first grade. I think Nancy might have accelerated too. She's little like me.
Today in class, just as I sat down and scarcely ten seconds before the last person was to be seated ( Nancy) …Nancy stood right at the side of my desk and said," next time your in the neighborhood, drop by."
I blush easily and intensely. I think my eyes even were bulging.
I dreaded lunch hour. Nancy didn't say much generally, for sure.. but she wasn't shy. I was sitting with my back against the wall with the other boys, soaking up sun and eating a sandwich when Nancy stationed herself right in front of me. And stared. Stared until I got up and walked away from the others, pulling her along by some abstract force.
I spoke first. Might as well have. I was going to be speaking no matter how this came down.
"You have a nice house?"
"You're thinking of buying one?"
Crap, she really expected me to answer. To set me up for her reply.
"No".
"Then I guess you just followed me all the way home to see if the stuff they say about me is true?"
I had one defensive strategy. I had nothing to lose. I went for it. "I followed you because I like you."
I stung her with that one. Her eyes widened and she looked askance and gasped. For a second, I thought her eyes had watered up.
"I like you too." And she walked away. I would have joined the guys kicking the soccer balls around but instead I found myself just shuffling around until the bell went off. I was really woozy.