I mentioned in my previous Eurovision post that Stig Rästa from Estonia reminds me of one of my friends back in the US. I pointed it out to him and he was like “Holy Crap!” Haha.
Anyway, before I go any further with what I am about to write I need to come up with a pseudonym for him since I’ve never written about him before. *Wracking my Brain* …Jimmy. We’ll call him Jimmy.
Back to the topic: last night I got into a FB discussion with a friend (who also loves Eurovision) when I expressed my new school girl crushes on both Måns Zelmerlöw (Sweden) and Stig Rästa. She could hardly contain her disbelief that I would find Stig attractive.
Finally I had to take the convo private so I could show her a pic and confess that I used to have a big old crush on Jimmy when I was 16. She conceded that my crush on Stig makes much more sense after that. Then we both agreed that women like what they like – and we all adore Måns. 😛
I figured while that old crush was on my mind, I might as well write about it… so here we go. Picture it: 1999, Frederick, Maryland. In the halls of a stereotypical American Public High School called “Frederick High School.” (God, I hope Jimmy doesn’t read this.)
The first time I met Jimmy was in the stair well at school. He brushed past me and did the obligatory turn and “sorry” as he kept going. I was with a friend, though I can’t remember who. I do remember saying something to her about his attractiveness. He was tall and lean and dressed a bit like a thug. I don’t really know how else to describe it, but I suppose back then he was a bit of a thug anyway – so the term fits. He tended to wear baggy shorts/pants, backwards baseball caps, oakley style sunglasses. He had silver hoops in each ear. He wore runners with no socks. Oh the things we notice when we have a crush on somebody.
He exuded cool as far as I was concerned.
Many of my friends begged to differ.
He did drugs. He smoked. He got into trouble. My friends that knew him knew these things. He didn’t feel ashamed telling me about some of that himself, to be quite honest. (Even ended up in Juvenile hall by the time the semester ended. I don’t believe that was his first time.)
He started attending Young Life meetings and that is where I got to know him a little bit better – though to be honest, I wish I could have gotten to know him even better back then. I was crushing and could be nervous at times; missing opportunities because of the silly butterflies. Oh the heart fluttering when he doubled back in the stairwell to call out to me from above after he had passed me a moment before.
One day, we got into somebody’s car after Young Life. Jimmy sat in the front and I got in the back of this tiny car. My legs are long, and I was cramped so I put my feet up on the middle console. I was wearing the fashionable long skirts with slits up the side – mine being camo patterned – and clunky sandals. I thought that wearing a long skirt for the night would hide the fact that I hadn’t had much time to… well… We were chatting when Jimmy turned to face me and realized my legs were propped up. His sentence was interrupted by an “Oooo!” as he reached out and ran his hand up my leg. Then he simply said. “Girl. You need to shave.”
How fucking embarrassing.
It made me sad one day, when a few friends were going to ride to Young Life together, that the girl driving, who was supposed to be Jimmy’s friend, told him he couldn’t come with because her mom didn’t like him and she couldn’t risk him being seen in her car. I thought that was mean enough as it was… but after he left she said it was actually because he annoyed her or something. The sadness I felt wasn’t even for the missed opportunity of time to spend with him, but that I started to see how some ‘friends’ really treated him.
My boyfriend at the time, Justin, literally hated Jimmy. This was not because I let on that I had any sort of crush on him. The hate stemmed from before I met either of them. One day, Jimmy passed us in the hall and nodded a hello.
“You know that kid?” Justin asked.
“Yeah, he’s my friend, why?”
“Why would you be friends with him? I hate that kid. I really do.” Then he proceeded to tell me about some things he had witnessed Jimmy doing. Including the first time he saw him and he was bullying some poor soul at school and laughing about it with his friends.
“I dunno, Justin. He’s nice to me…”
In a later conversation, after something had happened; Justin swore he was going to beat the sh*% out of Jimmy. They rode the same bus home. I made Justin swear not to hurt him. He was convinced it was just a matter of time before an altercation became physical. I made Justin swear that, for me, he wouldn’t be the one to throw the first punch. Justin agreed.
That night, at McDonalds (where we usually went after Young Life) Jimmy and I went outside together. He was mad and started spouting off about Justin. Saying very similar things about how he would rearrange Justin’s face. He couldn’t understand why I was even with Justin. I asked him, straight up. “Please, for me… Just don’t be the one to throw the first punch. Please?”
Jimmy stuffed his hands in his pockets for a moment of silent deliberation.
“If Justin hits you first, I swear I won’t be mad if you fight back.”
“Okay.” Jimmy said. “For you.”