Vanessa

Illustrations by Marcus, Grumblebee.com
Vanessa was the prettiest girl in the second grade. She had whispy golden blond hair and large eyes. Best of all, she wore dresses. I loved her dresses, especially her yellow gingham dress.

I wrote her the best love letter I could conjure. When it was done I took an old sheet of stickers, and peeled off the sticky paper left behind after all the cute racoons, elephants and monkeys had been pasted to the back wall of my closet. I affixed this to the bottom of my note. In the negative spaces, where the stickers once had been, I drew the cute little animals myself. I also drew a tree on the front of the note after folding it. I was good at drawing trees.

The note was lovingly dropped on Vanessa's desk as I hurried by and then began the anxiety, the first of many such waits. Vanessa let me suffer without a response until third recess before sending one of the Jennies to deliver her answer.

"Vanessa said 'no'." Jenny informed me as she smiled smuggly.

Why'd she have to send a Jenny? I hated the Jennies; two little Jehova's witnesses with matching long straight white blonde hair. They were pretty and smart and perfect and always there when I failed. Since kindergarten part of screwing up was seeing their creepily synchronized heads shaking in dismay at my pathetic efforts.

Vanessa would not get away with this. I went to Paul first, he was fairly popular and I figured the other boys would follow his lead. "Hey Paul, I started a club."

"What kind of club."

"It's the I Hate Vanessa Club. You wanna join?"

Of course he did, as did David and David's brother Doug, and Keith M. and Barry but we didn't let Barry in because he was a spaz.

I woke up the next morning ready for victory. It was tempting to strike before school when the kids who'd gotten their early were getting in some swingin' and monkey bar time before having to line up. I knew I'd get a better response at first recess when the whole class would be there. Shuffling in my desk, watching the clock, I felt like the bell was taking it's sweet time about announcing our first play break. At last that wonderful sound interrupted our lesson and announced Vanessa's down fall.

The crew was gathered up for the virgin voyage of the I Hate Vanessa Club. Vanessa was making her way from the teather ball poles to the hop scotch. We siezed the moment, circling her and chanting "We Hate Vanessa! We hate Vanessa!" We marched bringing our knees high and clapping our hands until finally she started to cry. The marching continued for a minute and then we broke ranks and allowed her to escape.

I ran from my four friends to the yellow haired girl's side. "I'm sorry Vanessa."

She looked at me with her big eyes, glossy with tears, "Will you stop."

"Will you let me carry your books home?"

"Fine."

I'd won.

Lunch break was next and I immediately started the "I Like Vanessa Club" but the other guys were done with me and my clubs, all except Barry, and he was a spaz.

I walked Vanessa home, carrying her books. She had a-lot of books and halfway to her house I handed a few of them back to her. We didn't say much. I wanted to try to hold her hand but my hands were too busy carrying books. When we reached our destination I turned and faced her, handing back the other half of her books.

"Can I... um..." I worked hard to muster up some courage, " give you a kiss goodbye?"

"No."

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