I barely remember Tanya.
She came to my birthday party in 5th grade. I barely remember my 10th birthday. There were only a few kids there. How many? Five? Six?
We must have been close. I wouldn’t have invited her if we weren't close.
Tanya’s picture is in my 7th grade yearbook. She didn’t sign it. She signed the one the year before. She said “have a great summer”.
We must not have been close. She would have signed it if we were close. She would have written more if we were close. My other friends wrote their phone numbers down. She would have given me her phone number if we were close.
Did she have a phone? If we were close, I would remember.
Was she in my class in 5th grade? I don’t remember her being there. She came to my birthday party though. I remember her being at my house. We played truth or dare.
I don’t remember seeing her in 8th grade. I saw her art in the halls. She was a good artist.
We were 10 and maybe had the vaguest idea what sex was. Or maybe not. There was a video we watched. I think it was in 5th grade. It didn’t really explain. Someone suggested dirty truth or dare. It might have been Tanya, but it probably wasn’t.
Her face is in all my yearbooks. I see it, and I know her. I don’t remember her, but I know her. I don’t remember her from 5th grade. Was she in my class? I don’t remember. I recognize her face. I saw her in middle school, but I don’t remember.
I do remember her from my 10th birthday party.
I know she was nice to me. I know I liked her. I know she was quiet, and a good artist. But I don’t remember her.
We played truth or dare, and she picked dare. If I had asked her to kiss me, she would have said yes. I know she would have. It never even crossed my mind to ask.
I’ve seen Tanya with her shirt off, but we were 10, and it didn’t count, and we didn’t actually know what sex was or what dirty truth or dare was and we hadn’t hit puberty yet and we were all girls and it hadn’t even occurred to me that I could like a girl that way and if I had asked her to kiss me she would have said yes and it never even crossed my mind to ask.
There’s something different, when you look back at old pictures, and you see that she was a little kid and you were a little kid and none of you knew what the fuck you were actually doing. I don’t remember that version of her. I don’t remember any version of her but the one in my mind from my faded hazy copy of the night I turned 10.
I found a photo of her, attending a prom I never went to at a high school I never attended. She’s not the same girl from the yearbooks, but she’s the same girl from my mind.
I wish I could kiss her now.