By Ashley Willis
When I was in middle school, I experienced my first big crush. He was tall, tan and had bleach-tipped Nineties hair like a dream. I kept my interest in him to myself until I received an invitation to his 13th birthday party.
I honestly couldn’t believe he invited me. We never really talked, and I certainly didn’t look like the girls he usually flirted with. So, I went home that day and begged my mom to let me go. This was one of the first “boy-girl parties” I’d been invited to. But, to my delight, my mom gave me her permission to attend the party.
I was so nervous. I wanted my outfit and hair to look perfect. I wanted him to notice me and maybe even talk to him—lame, I know, but this was middle school…the epitome of awkward.
On the way to the party, I didn’t say a word in the car. Mom asked me what was wrong, and I told her how nervous I was about the party and how I was crushing on this boy. She smiled and told me to just have fun and enjoy the time with my friends. So, I decided to do just that.