Libby was in the seventh grade. She was the girl that got Bs and the occasional A but never a C. She had long, unruly hair, green eyes, and a beautiful smile.
She went to school one day and noticed someone sitting on a desk that had not been there the day before. The new kid. People had been talking about him, some said he was from Canada, others, Germany. He had dark eyes, and dark hair to match. He sat in his desk, reading a book. Everyone else? Playing whatever new game they had discovered on their phones.
Libby didn’t have a phone. Her parents had never brought it up, and when she asked, pleaded, they told her to quit asking because it would never happen. Her brother had gotten a phone in sixth grade, but her parents had stopped paying the phone bill a year and a half ago.
Libby glanced over at the boy, again. Still reading his book. Throughout all of the seventh period, she looked at him. Once, they made awkward eye contact. After school, Libby discovered that they rode the same bus. In fact, they got off at the same stop. Libby decided to walk with the boy. She learned that his name was Rolfe, and he was from Missouri. They talked about the whole seven-minute walk to his house, and they agreed to walk together in the morning.
The next morning, Libby excitedly got ready for school. She made herself an egg with the last in the carton and drank some water from the tap. She would have preferred orange juice or even milk, but they didn’t have much in the fridge.
Libby walked over to Rolfe’s house, which was exactly one minute away. Together, they walked to the bus and shared a seat. As they were talking, Libby realized she liked this boy. They had a lot in common.
Over time, the two became inseparable. The other kids teased, but at least they were in it together. They never officially dated, as neither one liked the title of boyfriend or girlfriend. They stayed inseparable, until the day Rolfe asked that question.
“Can we go over to your house today?” Rolfe asked. Libby hesitated. In the four years they had been unofficially together, they had always gone to his house. She was scared he would see who she really was.
“Okay, but don’t expect my parents to be home,” Libby replied with a wink.
They headed to her house, and Libby opened the front door.
“Sorry it’s such a mess, we usually clean every other day, but we ran out of time yesterday.”
“Oh, that’s okay. You should see my bedroom,” Rolfe responded.
The thing was, she had seen his bedroom. Plenty of times. It was never messy. Ever.
Libby led Rolfe directly to her room, not wanting him to see any more of the mess her parents made. They hung out for a while, talking about school and what books they were reading. Libby never got bored of talking to him. She decided that she should tell him how she felt about him. After all, it had been four years of crushing, and she knew he liked her back.
“So uh.. any crushes?” Libby asked Rolfe.
“Well um… I guess there is one girl I’ve liked for a while,” he replied with a smirk.
This is it, Libby thought. She leaned in toward him, wrapping her arms around his body.
“Oh yeah? What’s her name?” she asked innocently.
Rolfe closed the space between them. He gently pressed his head against her shoulder. They stayed that way for a long minute.
“I think you already know the answer to that.” He aimed to kiss her cheek, but Libby turned her head at the last moment so as to land his lips on her mouth. They stayed locked in their embrace, bodies intertwined, until Rolfe pulled apart slightly. He kissed her cheek and her neck, and they ran their hands up and down each other’s bodies, his hands under her shirt. When he was finished kissing her neck, he worked his way to her ear. Libby hoped it would never end. She wanted it to go further; she hungered for him. She had been waiting for this day for years. When he got to her ear, he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear even though his breath tingled her earlobe, “your mum.”