The Waterfall

I don’t remember the name of my third grade teacher so for this writing, let’s call him Mr. Hot.
Mr. Hot and I loved each other. I was ten and he was thirty something and we had chemistry that was undeniable, like a fire that could not be extinguished.
As Mr. Hot spoke to the class I would day dream about how many babies we would have and I also wondered, where do you get these babies? I know you go somewhere to pick them up, but where?
One Halloween, I went dressed up like a Go Go girl. I guess it’s the equivalent of a whore outfit, but back then it was called a Go Go girl.
I’m in class, watching Mr. Hot eat grapes as he sat at his desk. He gets up and writes the names of each day of the week and then the name of a student. This was the chalkboard duty assignment for the week. If your name was on one of the days of the week, that meant you had to stay after school and clean the chalk board and the erasers. I see Friday and then my name. That is when it really sunk in. Mr. Hot is going to ask me to marry him on Friday. Oh my god. We would probably go straight from the school, after the erasers were clean, to pick up our first baby.
Because of the age difference, I knew we would not get automatic support from my mom and dad. But the thing is that we loved each other, and that’s that. You could not stop Mr. Hot and I from loving each other and getting the babies. I had a feeling that I would have to change to a different class because I can’t have my husband be my third grade teacher because he would give me guaranteed ‘A’s’. But if that was the only thing in our way, besides my parents, and possibly the police, I was willing to make the move to another class.
Thursday night, I spend three or four hours trying to decide what outfit I wanted to be proposed in. It could be anything I wanted because my mom was at work before I went to school. I went with my Halloween Go Go girl outfit.
I walk in the classroom. Tie died t-shirt tucked in to my black pleather skirt. Black fish net stockings and black pleather boots, that’s right, up to the knee. My hair was the finishing touch that would send Mr. Hot’s love completely over the edge. I had invented a hair do some time back. I thought this hair style would catch on and soon everyone in the third grade would be wearing it. But, I was the only one that followed my own fashion craze so I only wore it on special occasions. Like the day your third grade teacher is going to ask you to marry him. It was called the waterfall. I would flip my head over and get all my hair and tie it in a pony tail on the top of my head. Then I would pull the strands down in a circle creating a ’waterfall’. I was Lady GaGa, before Lady GaGa was Lady GaGa.
I felt pretty great about the look as I sat at my desk just waiting for the end of the day. One boy asked me why I was dressed like that. I told him it was something he couldn’t understand as I flipped the waterfall, one strand of hair whipping me in the eye and making it water.
The end of the day the bell rang. I felt a nervous thud hit the bottom of my stomach. All the kids were filing out of the classroom and I walked up to the chalk board to begin my duties. Mr. Hot was walking around the room picking up this and that and I guessed he was probably nervous about the proposal. Ask me Mr. Hot! I will say yes!
At this point, his fucking pregnant wife walks in. Are you kidding? No. I’m not. They kiss and he says, “How was your day?” She says, “Good. I’m tired though. Maybe we can order a pizza for dinner.”
Either, he is married and his wife is pregnant. OR, he loves me and was going to propose marriage to me when his pregnant cousin, that he happens to feel comfortable kissing on the lips walks in and ruins everything.
That was the first time I experienced a broken heart. As I walked home, no matter how many different ways I tried to convince myself that kissing your cousin is something that people do, no, it just didn‘t seem like a ‘hello cousin‘ kind of kiss. Mr. Hot was married. The son of a bitch was married. She was in her thirties and so was he and later they are going to eat pizza. How do I go on? I will never love again.
I laid on my bed and cried. For like fifteen minutes. Then I went in the back yard and tried to find lady bugs for my collection.
The next Monday at school I was not as happy to watch Mr. Hot eat grapes. Then the same boy that asked me about my Go Go girl outfit said, “I liked your hair on Friday.” So I wore the waterfall everyday after that and that boy followed me around the playground. Sorry Mr. Hot. I have to move on. Our love was a roller coaster. First math, then English, constant homework. With the new guy all I need is the waterfall. Which I still believe will eventually be a big hit in the hair world.