preview

The First Time I Met Jessica Essay

Decent Essays
Open Document

The first time I met Jessica wasn 't the first time I met her. She sat behind a desk that was too short to fit her bruised from soccer, cut kneed, skinny ankled, growing legs under. At eleven years old, she knew more curse words than anyone else in our class, and she 'd carve them into her desk sometimes. She said she 'd blame it on the kid who sat there during the next hour if she was ever confronted, and she never was. She was the only girl who sat with the boys at lunch, the classroom divided into two sexes and she was the referee. I 've never seen anyone look meaner without tattoos or facial piercings. The only hole in her face worth mentioning is her mouth. That mouth made more kids cry that school year than most dentists do their whole lives. That mouth didn 't take any authority figure bullshit from teachers. That mouth had kissed a boy after she made the first move, not him, and he told her he loved her. I was a quiet snail, still getting used to carrying around the burdening shell of an introvert, and as beautiful as I though she was, I never made it up to her desk to speak to her. The first time I actually met Jessica was two years later. We were thirteen, and still discovering the best parts about each other. We were still narrow minded and insecure. I was still looking for a friend. Jessica liked wearing dresses, because she said her legs were her best features. She was a straight A student, and she still never took bullshit from anyone. But Jessica was

Get Access
Related
Get Access