Grade 5

The second my alarm goes off, my eyes shoot open. It's 8:30 A.M., meaning my dad has already left for work. I don't think Aunt Yeji is going to come by today. Usually, my dad has her watch over me during the weekends and after school, but ever since she started a new job, she's been coming by less and less.

It's fine, though. Aunt Yeji likes to criticize my dad for "always working when he has a ten-year-old child to take care of," but he always comes home when he's done with work and tries to spend time with me.

Plus, I can take care of myself. I am in fifth grade, after all. It's not like I'm a little kid.

As usual, I make myself wheat toast with two eggs and a tall glass of milk. My mom always filled my cup to the brim with milk. She said she wanted me to be tall. My mom was 5'2" though and I'm one of the shorter girls in my class, so I'm not sure how much milk is going to help. Nevertheless, I finish my glass, tidy up the kitchen, and grab my jump rope.

When I step outside, there's a giant moving van in front of Alexa Valdez's house- well, what used to be her house before she moved to Oregon. I'm stepping forward to get a better look when someone snatches my jump rope out of my hands. Shocked, I spin around and am met with the mischievous face of a boy, probably around my grade, wearing a baseball cap with messy brown hair sticking out from underneath it.

"You shouldn't take people's things without asking," I say while reaching for my jump rope.

He holds it away from me, light on his feet. "Who are you?" he asks curiously, revealing a gap-toothed smile.

"I don't talk to strangers," I reply. He's around my height so it's not that difficult to grab the jump rope out of his hands the second time I try. Without another word, I turn and start to walk away.

"I just moved here!" he calls after me. "See you around, neighbor!"

---

His name is Niccoló Accardi, which everyone in our class thinks is funny. Niccoló is a name for a big Italian man with a cigarette. He's not Niccoló; he's Nico or Nicky.

Sometimes we play together outside. Nico likes rocky road ice cream the best and I like butterscotch because it reminds me of the candies that our neighborhood grandma, Mrs. Bernstein, gives out. He also likes to play jump rope with me, even while the other boys play with their Nerf guns.

On Nico's 11th birthday, I make him peanut butter brownies in my Easy Bake oven. On mine, he buys me new paints, the fancy kind that I can't afford.

Then middle school comes around. We don't play outside anymore, Nico grows taller than me, and we don't even say hi to each other in the halls anymore. Suddenly, all of the girls like Nico. He's the class clown and I'm the oddball.

In 8th grade, Nico and my best friend, Samaya, start dating. It doesn't bother me. We're just neighbors and he moves away the next year, so we aren't really even that.

Sometimes, I still remember though.