Thursday, September 3rd, 1987
Stephanie’s arrival at Assumption hadn’t been marked by fanfare or a grand entrance. Instead, she had quietly slipped into seventh grade at the start of the school year. Blending into the scenery and finding where lines were drawn and where they blurred.
But unlike most new kids, Stephanie wasn’t looking to fit in, she was looking for friction.
The first person she befriended was a fellow seventh grader named Andrea. Andrea was as simple as she was wild. Copper hair. Loud laugh. A body ahead of its time and a face that could shame a horse. She crossed lines without noticing and flirted with trouble like it was a cute boy.
Stephanie recognized in Andrea the same feral energy that fueled her own untamed heart and the two bonded instantly. Andrea told Stephanie she thought I was hot and it was that casual comment that had allowed Stephanie to step into my life.
At first, she played matchmaker. Got my number. Called after school. Asked if I liked Andrea. What I thought of her. Could I see myself with her. All the stupid cupid questions that come with brokering a romance. Questions that kept her in the background.
But slowly, the calls changed and the focus drifted from Andrea to me. My life. My interests. My likes and dislikes. She collected insight about me in a way that never felt like she was collecting, just listening.
She also shared pieces of herself. Things like she had already started going with a boy from her class named Frankie. That she lived in North Topeka with her mom and sister. That she’d lost her virginity when she was eleven.
Those after-school calls were the first thread she wove between us. And I didn’t realize how badly I needed a thread, because everything at home had just been ripped apart.
Since the night my parents decided to separate, I’d felt hollowed out and it had caused me to miss a couple days of school. Not because I was sick, but because I was undone.
So today was my first day back at school. It was also the day Stephanie chose to escalate the dynamic between us.
Every morning before school, the playground was abuzz with kickball, basketball, noise and motion. Then, at five til eight, Sister Corita would emerge with a giant hand bell and ring it hard enough to stop the world cold.
Once a deafening silence had fallen across the playground, one unlucky kid would stumble out hoisting up an American flag while Corita led the student body through the pledge of allegiance followed by a painfully off-key rendition of America the Beautiful for all of downtown Topeka to endure.
When the performance ended, we’d herd ourselves inside to start the day.
On this morning, I stood motionless in the crowd. Still shell-shocked. Still split open. Trying to understand what life looked like now that I was a kid from a broken home.
That’s when I noticed Stephanie behind me. Alone. Watching.
When she caught my glance, she smirked and rolled her eyes at the charade unfolding in front of us. A private joke, just for me.
“Where’s Andrea?” I asked quietly.
“At home pretending to be sick.” she paused. “Are you going to the Hayden game tomorrow night?’
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
I hadn’t had the bandwidth to think about anything lately.
“Are you going?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“With Andrea?”
She looked at me like I was the only person on the playground.
“No. With you. If you come.” she said.
The smile that followed wasn’t casual. It lingered. Intentional. Like she had already decided something.
Up until now, I’d had almost no interaction with girls. No instincts. No radar to recognize when someone was interested. But the way she said it landed. The way she looked at me landed. And somewhere inside the hollow, something flickered.
“I’ll be there.”
“Good,” she replied, her voice carrying a promise she didn’t explain.
The school finished its public act of performative patriotism and everyone made their way towards the entrance.
Then, without warning, Stephanie bumped into me from behind. Deliberate and unmistakable, and grabbed my ass with both hands and squeezed hard. Sending an electrical jolt of excitement and surprise through my body.
I froze as heat surged up my spine and every nerve ending fired at once. I turned to her, stunned, breath caught somewhere between my chest and my throat.
She just stared at me.
Gone was her smile and in its place something calm and unreadable, as if what she’d done wasn’t bold or reckless, but natural. A simple expression of who she was. Someone without brakes. Without boundaries and who didn’t ask permission.
Then, without a word, she walked past me and disappeared into the school.
I shuffled in after her, dazed and dumbfounded, aware that the low hum I’d been living with all my life had just had its volume cranked.
The hollow my parents left behind wasn’t gone, but now something was moving inside it.
Whatever Stephanie was doing, it had little to do with helping someone else find their way to me and everything to do with drawing me into her gravity.
Dear, Reader
I write these stories because I have to.
Because some things only loosen when they’re put on the page.
If this one meant something to you and you want to help keep the work going,
you can buy me a coffee here.
Either way, thanks for reading, I'm honored to have you on this journey with me.