The cluster of freckles lightly powdering her cheeks made me hyper-aware of the gaggle of zits spattered across mine. So, subscribing to the theory that Amanda couldn’t see my face if I couldn’t see hers, I spent the majority of our conversation speaking to my shoelaces. Dirty and frayed and Nike, they were as loosely tied as the awkward connection of sentences spilling from my mouth. I knew what I wanted to say to my 12-year-old crush, but actually getting there was a major pain in the ass.
I knew that Amanda liked me; that much I surmised after my super stealth mission on AOL the week before. Employing a trick I had used on girls in the past, I IM’d Amanda using my alternative screen name. She THOUGHT she was talking to Kevin, a mysterious new boy who just moved to town from Idaho, but she was REALLY talking to Eric A. Kester, that sneaky genius! Read more