The first time we met
I was standing outside at recess (remember when kids used to have that?) and as usual I didn’t know what to do. I knew almost everyone in my class but I wasn’t really friends with any of them. I didn’t know who to play with, and then, I didn’t know what I wanted to play. Tag? Kickball? Monkey bars? I didn’t really care and I didn’t know what to do.
I looked across the blacktop to the field. A beautiful maple tree with elaborate branches marked the corner of the playground. A few boys were kicking a soccer ball around in the grass, and under the maple tree, sitting against a tree, was a girl. I walked towards her.
As I got closer, I saw that it was Charlotte. She was in the class above me. Her straight, smooth black hair went to the middle of her back. She sat against the tree trunk with her knees bent, her arms hugging her jeans. She was staring out past the field, but somehow I got the feeling she wasn’t watching the soccer boys.
I was a few feet away from her when I said, “Hi, Charlotte.”
She turned her head toward me. “Hi.”
I looked down at the ground. “Mind if I sit next to you?”
Charlotte shook her head and scooted over a little so we could both lean against the trunk. As I sat down, she sniffled, and that’s when I noticed her eyes were watery and her cheeks were pink, even though it wasn’t cold outside.
“Um, were you crying?”
Charlotte nodded.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded again. “I’m sorry, what’s your name? I’m kinda new and it’s hard for me to--”
“I’m Cassandra, but most people call me Casey.” I turned and smiled at her. She looked at me but her expression didn’t change. After a moment I said, “Um, if you want to be alone I’ll--”
“No, it’s okay. It’s nice to sit with someone for once.”
“Okay. Do...” I stopped myself but then I decided to ask anyway. “Why were you crying?”
Charlotte wiped her eyes. “It’s not a big deal, really.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Sometimes when I’m upset it’s easier if I talk about it. Makes me feel better when someone else knows and I don’t feel so lonely.”
Charlotte took a deep breath and leaned back against the tree. “It’s ummm...you’ll probably think it’s stupid.”
“I promise I won’t.”
She turned her head towards me.
“Try me.”
“Okay...” Charlotte shifted and sat cross-legged, facing me. “Sometimes I have nightmares, scary ones, and some of them feel really real.”
I nodded. “I’ve had scary dreams too.”
“Yeah. Well, I was just thinking about one I had and I started crying, that’s all.”
“Oh. Do you want to tell me about the dream?”
“No.” Charlotte muttered something else too, but I couldn’t make it out. “What kinds of dreams do you have?”
“Um, I don’t know. I don’t remember my dreams most of the time.”
“Lucky.” Charlotte pulled a few grass blades out. “I remember every single dream I have.”
“And most of them are bad dreams?”
Charlotte nodded, not looking at me.
“Do you ever talk to your parents about them?”
“My mom. I used to tell her. Now that it’s a constant thing...” Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know what she’d do about it anyway.”
The bell rang and we stood up. We walked back toward the school side by side.
“Well, if you ever want to talk about your dreams, I’m here.” I gave Charlotte a small smile. “I won’t mind listening, I promise.”
Charlotte nodded. “Thanks.” Then after a pause: “What grade are you in?”
“Fourth.”
“You’re pretty smart for a fourth grader.”
“Thanks?” I laughed.
“No, not just smart. I mean considerate, too, I guess. More than I’d expect from kids our age.”
I shrugged. “I’ll take that as a good thing too.”
“It is.” Charlotte looked at me, her eyes narrowing. “Really, Casey, that’s a good thing. That’ll be useful.”
“For what?”
Her voice changed when she replied, “You’ll see.” It was deeper, more serious. Something about the way her eyes focused on me in that moment, haunted blue eyes in perfect clarity, stuck with me.
I looked across the blacktop to the field. A beautiful maple tree with elaborate branches marked the corner of the playground. A few boys were kicking a soccer ball around in the grass, and under the maple tree, sitting against a tree, was a girl. I walked towards her.
As I got closer, I saw that it was Charlotte. She was in the class above me. Her straight, smooth black hair went to the middle of her back. She sat against the tree trunk with her knees bent, her arms hugging her jeans. She was staring out past the field, but somehow I got the feeling she wasn’t watching the soccer boys.
I was a few feet away from her when I said, “Hi, Charlotte.”
She turned her head toward me. “Hi.”
I looked down at the ground. “Mind if I sit next to you?”
Charlotte shook her head and scooted over a little so we could both lean against the trunk. As I sat down, she sniffled, and that’s when I noticed her eyes were watery and her cheeks were pink, even though it wasn’t cold outside.
“Um, were you crying?”
Charlotte nodded.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded again. “I’m sorry, what’s your name? I’m kinda new and it’s hard for me to--”
“I’m Cassandra, but most people call me Casey.” I turned and smiled at her. She looked at me but her expression didn’t change. After a moment I said, “Um, if you want to be alone I’ll--”
“No, it’s okay. It’s nice to sit with someone for once.”
“Okay. Do...” I stopped myself but then I decided to ask anyway. “Why were you crying?”
Charlotte wiped her eyes. “It’s not a big deal, really.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Sometimes when I’m upset it’s easier if I talk about it. Makes me feel better when someone else knows and I don’t feel so lonely.”
Charlotte took a deep breath and leaned back against the tree. “It’s ummm...you’ll probably think it’s stupid.”
“I promise I won’t.”
She turned her head towards me.
“Try me.”
“Okay...” Charlotte shifted and sat cross-legged, facing me. “Sometimes I have nightmares, scary ones, and some of them feel really real.”
I nodded. “I’ve had scary dreams too.”
“Yeah. Well, I was just thinking about one I had and I started crying, that’s all.”
“Oh. Do you want to tell me about the dream?”
“No.” Charlotte muttered something else too, but I couldn’t make it out. “What kinds of dreams do you have?”
“Um, I don’t know. I don’t remember my dreams most of the time.”
“Lucky.” Charlotte pulled a few grass blades out. “I remember every single dream I have.”
“And most of them are bad dreams?”
Charlotte nodded, not looking at me.
“Do you ever talk to your parents about them?”
“My mom. I used to tell her. Now that it’s a constant thing...” Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know what she’d do about it anyway.”
The bell rang and we stood up. We walked back toward the school side by side.
“Well, if you ever want to talk about your dreams, I’m here.” I gave Charlotte a small smile. “I won’t mind listening, I promise.”
Charlotte nodded. “Thanks.” Then after a pause: “What grade are you in?”
“Fourth.”
“You’re pretty smart for a fourth grader.”
“Thanks?” I laughed.
“No, not just smart. I mean considerate, too, I guess. More than I’d expect from kids our age.”
I shrugged. “I’ll take that as a good thing too.”
“It is.” Charlotte looked at me, her eyes narrowing. “Really, Casey, that’s a good thing. That’ll be useful.”
“For what?”
Her voice changed when she replied, “You’ll see.” It was deeper, more serious. Something about the way her eyes focused on me in that moment, haunted blue eyes in perfect clarity, stuck with me.
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