Memory

My 6th grade year was my first year in the Sycamore Symphonic band- for a middle school band we were actually decent. We traveled- more for fun, but there was always a bit of competition added in. The aspect of the trip that stays impressed upon my memory, however, was on a dinner cruise one night. I ate dinner with my friends, a group of girls that I usually hung out with. One of them had a “boyfriend”, (we'll call her Anne) , and she danced with him. It was a big deal at the time, and although boys weren’t necessarily the first thing on my mind, I recall taking a sideways glance at one named (we'll call him Sam) and thinking that maybe later I would ask him to dance. His friend, (we'll call him William) , sat a little ways down, making some humorous, sarcastic comment. I took no notice, and walked off the boat with some of my older friends- the 7th graders. We spit over the sides, chugged sugar packets, and made jokes on the front of the boat. When the dancing started, however, I wandered back in the room to find my friends jumping sporadically in all directions and swinging jackets. I joined in, of course, in the party on the top of the boat. However, as it began to get dark, people migrated inside, and though I went with them for a little bit, I found myself wanting some time alone to just absorb the peace of floating down the river. I climbed up the stairs to the top of the boat, where rain was starting to fall in deft little drops all around me. It didn’t faze me; it wasn’t enough water to make me cold. I put my hands around the cold metal of the handrail and gripped, sailing through the air as if the boat never existed. The sound of footsteps brought me out of my trance, and I turned to see William coming to a halt a few feet in front of me. He gave a hint of a crooked smile, and then looked shyly down at the ground. The gesture was so unlike his confident, sarcastic personality, that it caught my attention. “You look different without your glasses” he said simply, barely glancing in my direction. My mind hadn’t registered enough to have jammed yet, and laughing, I quickly explained: “I hope I look better without them.” William said nothing- or if he did, it was carried away by the wind. We stood in silence for a few minutes, feeling the rain blow across our cheeks, until William said something about going back inside. I agreed, a little too readily, and followed him down the curved stairs into the room where the dance was going on. I didn’t talk to William again until a little bit later, but at that moment on the top of the boat, my entire world was thrown into disarray. It shocked me that a comment so innocent, a compliment that was barely even a compliment, forever changed the way I saw this person- and so many people after that. It was an event, however small, that has one of the largest imprints on my memory.