Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Honour Among Thieves

In the spirit of new year and new changes, I will attempt to update this blog more frequently, and have more content-rich posts.

With that...

Lately I've been sleepless. I toss and turn with thoughts rocking about, uneasy with what spews from my mind. I'm sure this has happened to us all, so I'll spare the rhetorical bit and dive right into my point:

Do you ever think about the ones you said you'd never give a second thought?

Last night, as I lay in bed, my thoughts turned to one person: Honour Fisher.

Honour Fisher was the only blonde in my summer school classes. The Summer Enrichment Academy was rife with pretty girls, and supercool dudes, but being South Florida, Honour stuck out like, well... a blonde haired, blue-eyed girl in a sea of brown haired, brown eyed girls. Honour was a commodity that all the boys hoped to trade.

Every boy was in love with Honour Fisher. She was friendly, outgoing, and surprisingly down-to-earth for a cheerleader. Honour knew she was loved, and Honour valued this. It wasn't an accident when Honour would drop her pencils or knock over her books- it was an opportunity for the one of us who would volunteer to help her out. Honour would appreciatively smile, and reward her valiant suitor with middle school's prized possession- the ever elusive "kiss on the cheek."

Most young Hispanic men and women will tell you that a kiss on the cheek is nothing more than an informal greeting- a way of showing familiarity and welcome. This wasn't so with non-Hispanics- any physical contact took on a much more sensual meaning. This is why Honour Fisher and her cheek kisses were so sought after. Then came the day that Honour Fisher asked me if I could help her gather her things.

******

Her books lay on the floor, and she sheepishly grinned.

"Oh, I'm such a klutz!"

"Allow me," I said, from just above the tile as I scooped her notebooks and papers off the floor.

"Thank you, Ralph," she said to me. I hated being called Ralph, but Honour above all.

"You're welcome, Honour."

She leaned in for my reward... but so did I. That was when the tips of our lips touched. Innocently enough.

"Thanks again!"

She took her stack and took off.

This had to mean something! That's when the word got out. When you're a chubby young Hispanic kid who had never kissed a girl, there was Honour to be upheld.

*****

She laughed when she heard. Laughed so hard she choked on her milk. She even snorted. It would have been a cute snort.

"Eww, him?! I can't believe he's telling people he stole a kiss from me. Like I'd ever kiss a guy like him!"

I had to agree, frankly.

The teasing ended soon after, but I knew what heartache was. My crush on Honour grew, even though I knew she would never have me. Finally came the day where I bought Honour a birthday card. It was hand-picked, thoroughly thought-out, and contained the most heartfelt sentiments a second-language seventh grader could muster.

She said she loved it. She loved it so much she left it unopened, along with the thirteen other envelopes from our classmates, buried in her purse beneath the teddy bear that Alex got her. She didn't have to read it- she knew how I felt, right?

*****

That was the day I learned what seventh-grade heartbreak was. There had to be a reason Honour and I touched lips, right? But then why was she so cruel? If she never kissed anyone so closely before, then why was she so keen on Alex? And what were they doing behind the school during lunchtime, or in the Jurassic Park arcade game with the curtain at the bowling alley?

I swore I'd never be suckered like that again. My feelings were mine to control- I'd know if a woman was playing me, and I'd know when she wasn't interested.You can believe a lot when you're young.

I recently tried to look up Honour.I might have her name misspelled, or perhaps she's fallen off the grid... but what if she knows I was looking for her? The seventh-grade side of me suggests I spelled it right- how could I have forgotten?

I'm not in love with Honour Fisher. This may seem like the case, but it's not. Honour just popped into my head recently while thinking of this long, strange trip I dare to call a "love" life. She wasn't the first girl I liked, or even the first I noticed, but she was the first that made an impression. When I met girls in middle and high school that I might be interested in, I judged them on the Honour system. I made sure to accentuate the negative before I could accept the positive. It worked on the one girl I dated in high school.

*****

Last I heard, she and Alex were still together. Granted, this was roughly a decade ago, so things might be a little different. If y'all are still together, good tidings to you, and Alex- no hard feelings. There never were any. Thanks for that wallet though- it was pretty awesome.

Love, be loved, and spill your satisfaction into the material world. Your gut feeling is usually much better than your overthought instincts. Every one of us has had or will have our stories like this. As you lay your head down when you do, you'll probably think of a time like this. Just promise me one thing, please.

Don't put your Honour above all.

2 comments:

Danny Djeljosevic said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Danny Djeljosevic said...

That was good.