in bloom.

2 - where he named me

The first time I met Jaime, he punched me in the face.

Now, I know I should be talking about the girl. I know that's what you really want. But in order to understand the full scope of things, you have to understand what kind of kid Jaime was. You have to understand our relationship.

We first met in second grade. He was still fairly new to the school so I never really spoke to him until that day. I mean, although there was general curiosity about him, nobody ever really spoke to him much because he was a little weird. Always getting into trouble and shit. If they did speak to him, it was with caution.

My mother, well, she didn't like me getting into trouble, which is ultimately why I steered clear of Jaime. But that day, we somehow found each other on a playground full of kids. I was sitting against the wall alone, just watching all the other kids run around. Mother didn't like me coming home with dirty clothes, so I avoided playing as much as possible, which inevitably meant I had no friends.

Jaime, on the other hand, was with a group of three other boys from what I remember. It was surprising to find him there because he hardly got along with anyone. See, the town we were in wasn't that diverse, which made it a little hard for kids like Jaime and me. I mean, people don't have to say it to your face but you know you're different from how dark your skin is compared to everyone else's and how they respond to you because of that. Even at eight, I felt it in the air, though I wasn't ever treated that bad because my parents made a decent amount of money and knew how to sell themselves. Jaime didn't have that kind of luxury.

Anyway, he was standing a few feet away from me, which made it hard to hear what they were talking about. But from the way Jaime's hands were balled into fists and his hunched shoulders, I could tell it wasn't a good conversation.

They stayed like that for a while. I remember being vaguely interested in them mostly because of how silent Jaime was. I swear, he didn't say a single word in that whole conversation. The other boys kept saying something to him, but he never reacted. Just kept his fists balled.

Then, suddenly, his head shot in my direction. His eyes zeroed in on me before he swiveled on his heel and went stomping my way. I got up from where I was and looked around to see if he was going anywhere else. But no. He only had me on his mind.

Any other smart kid would've gone running in a different direction with the way Jaime was looking at me. He had some kind of heat in his eyes that scared me shitless, one that still makes hairs rise on my arms anytime I see it. Once he reached me, he didn't even say anything. Just looked at me for a split second before raising his fist to the back of his head then sent it flying straight in my face.

It was the first act of violence I'd ever experienced in my entire life. Mother didn't even let me watch the news, for God's sake. I didn't realize what had happened at first—the world seemed to stop for a moment, and all I could focus on was the powerful yet dull buzz that travelled from ear to ear, filling my head entirely. I felt the pain first in my nose, then it shot straight to the back of my skull. I was suddenly aware of my brain rattling, the blood flowing from my nostrils, the kids screaming.

Everything came back at once.

"Oh my God!"

I saw a teacher running our way, her body warping weirdly as I struggled to regain focus. "Oh my God!" she said again once she saw me. "Oh, there's so much blood!" Once she realized she was talking to a kid, she quickly took my shirt and put it against my nose. "Oh, honey, you'll be fine. Let's get you to the nurse, okay? You'll be fine."

I know I probably should've hated him for that. I probably should've never spoken to him again. But to be honest, I kind of liked it. I liked the improbability. I liked that I woke up that morning not knowing that I'd be sitting in a nurse's office getting tissues shoved up my nose. I liked that he gave me that. Something new.