I knew Jevon when we were eight or nine years old. It was 1985-86, Seattle. His jeans creased at the back of his knees in a particular way. I wanted my jeans to do that. Every girl in our class liked him, literally. One time he was supposed to come to my house. I waited upstairs at the window, watching the street, waiting for him, but I knew he wouldn’t come, I could feel it. But another time he did. We shot baskets in my backyard. He told me what he got for Christmas. Air Jordans, a sweater, some jeans. I found that unbelievable. Clothes as presents? That didn’t make any sense. We went down to the basement, where there was a telephone, and I stood next to him while he called some fifth-grade girls. Malia, Stacy, Jeanette. He had a confident way of talking. I wanted my voice to sound like his. Later, we watched Conan the Barbarian, as we waited for his mom to come pick him up. One day, Mrs. Holmes told the class that this was Jevon's last week, he was leaving the school. He was moving to West Seattle. I went once to his house after he left the school. It was in the Highpoint projects, I think, though I'm not sure about that. There was a dresser with his brother’s trumpet in a case on top of it. In the front room, we sat on the carpet with his mom and a man in a blue durag. We watched a show on their console TV. Two people were trying to have a sword fight on a frozen lake but kept slipping on the ice. It was the daytime, but I remember it felt dark in the room. I was sad, because I knew our short friendship was over, since he was at a different school now. Sure enough we lost touch, but I never forgot him. How could I? He was a truly beautiful kid, perhaps the coolest I ever knew.
I knew Jevon when we were eight or nine years old. It was 1985-86, Seattle. His jeans creased at the back of his knees in a particular way. I wanted my jeans to do that. Every girl in our class liked him, literally. One time he was supposed to come to my house. I waited upstairs at the window, watching the street, waiting for him, but I knew he wouldn’t come, I could feel it. But another time he did. We shot baskets in my backyard. He told me what he got for Christmas. Air Jordans, a sweater, some jeans. I found that unbelievable. Clothes as presents? That didn’t make any sense. We went down to the basement, where there was a telephone, and I stood next to him while he called some fifth-grade girls. Malia, Stacy, Jeanette. He had a confident way of talking. I wanted my voice to sound like his. Later, we watched Conan the Barbarian, as we waited for his mom to come pick him up. One day, Mrs. Holmes told the class that this was Jevon's last week, he was leaving the school. He was moving to West Seattle. I went once to his house after he left the school. It was in the Highpoint projects, I think, though I'm not sure about that. There was a dresser with his brother’s trumpet in a case on top of it. In the front room, we sat on the carpet with his mom and a man in a blue durag. We watched a show on their console TV. Two people were trying to have a sword fight on a frozen lake but kept slipping on the ice. It was the daytime, but I remember it felt dark in the room. I was sad, because I knew our short friendship was over, since he was at a different school now. Sure enough we lost touch, but I never forgot him. How could I? He was a truly beautiful kid, perhaps the coolest I ever knew.