Friday, March 25, 2005

Blast from the Past

I remembered him from high school as soon as he walked in the door. He’s every bit as beautiful now as he was then. Sixteen years old; smooth, brown skin; brown, almost black eyes that never waver but sparkle when he smiles his perfect, white-toothed smile; 1.5 carat faux diamonds in each ear and a ¾ inch wide gold necklace around his neck; a crisp button down shirt, left untucked; Nike on each foot peaking out from underneath the cuffs of enormous black jeans. He possessed the kind of charm that, though still leery of, you couldn’t help but fall for just a little bit. He copied my homework on more than one occasion. He flirted with everyone like it was going out of style, whether he was trying to get in your pants or borrow a pencil, but he only actually dated his female equivalents. He wouldn’t even turn it off for teachers.

It made me smile to see him again. The more things change…

He regarded me with fierce determination as I described the application process to him – eager, but not overly convincing. “I gotta to go to college – I got kids to feed.”

…the more they stay the same.

I hope he goes.

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