Beavers and Storms

      I was seven years old when I had my first crush on a girl. For the story, we'll call her... Thunder. Yes, this means something to me. Anyways, Thunder was my neighbor. She was thirteen years old, which me to me meant she was clearly an adult, and knew everything about anything. This was circa 2011, so you can probably image the kind of girl Thunder was. She had light blonde hair that she wore in a ponytail with those comically tiny headbands, and she wore a lot of tribal print and awkward black eyeliner. And just like any other teenager of the early 2010's, she loved One Direction and Justin Bieber. I remember this because I was so insanely jealous of young Bieber that I completely denounced him. I wouldn't listen to him, and I would start crying when he was even brought up. It became a running joke in my family that I was "hiding my crush," when in reality I wanted that seventeen-year-old GONE by any means necessary. 

     Anyways, one day my grandmother thought it would be funny to get me a Justin Bieber poster from Walmart. I did not find it funny. My mother refused to let me throw it away because it was "rude" and "everyone likes the beebs." So, he was hung up in my room. Right over my Monster High comforter clad twin sized bed. 

     He mocked me. Every morning I got up for first grade, and there the bastard was in that pleather looking jacket and hoodie combo. His glowing (brown? Blonde?) hair made him impossible to ignore. I would beg my mother to let me take it down. I would try to bribe her with extra chores and drawings. 

     It was to no avail. 

    One day, my mom had asked Thunder to babysit me and my younger sister. My mom was in a relationship with a loser, and he was not to be trusted with us. But that's for another time. Anyways, she came over to our house, and I very excitedly brought her to my room. I wanted to show her my new Kidz Bop CD and purple radio. I didn't even get a foot into my room when she spotted the poster and gasped in excitement. 

     She took out her phone and began to take a selfie with the poster. She chose to take a photo with a piece of paper, and not me, who was standing there with Kidz Bop 18 like a fool. She didn't care for Kidz Bop. No, she was all about that Bieber Fever, which you could argue is the same thing. But I digress. I was left there like a fool, while she giggled over that... bowl cut having, Canadian dork. 

     I'd had it. He already took the love of my life; he wasn't about to take my pride too.  After Thunder left and my mom returned, I hatched a plan to get rid of the Bieber. I knew my mom wouldn't just let me throw it out, so I had to be clever. 

     You see, I was seven. Was I smart? Not really. But I was a liar. So, at nighttime, after I had already brushed my teeth and was tucked in, it was go time. I started crying. Loudly. Enough that my older brother and my mom came into my bedroom. 

"What's the matter?" She had asked me with concern. 

"The poster," I said, my voice shaking. "I-I think it moved, I'm scared. He's watching me." 

My Mother looked at me with confusion. "It moved?" She asked. "What do you mean it moved?" At this point, I was almost choking on my fake tears. "He's staring at me, and his eyes are scaring me."

    I feel it's important to mention that at the time, my mother worked as a home health aide, who worked five, sometimes six days a week. And here I was, stealing these precious sleeping hours over jealousy and fake fear. 

     But it worked, because she took the poster down and passed it over to my brother. Just like that, the threat was gone. 

    I wish I could say that after that, I developed healthier habits and got over my crush, but I'd be a big fat liar. I won't go into too much detail but at one point I did in fact kick a neighbor boy in the crotch for getting much too close to Thunder for my liking.

     She's married now to a man. She has kids, a house and really ugly dog. But I'll never forget her. I'll never forget how she did flips on the trampoline or rode her bike with no hands. I'll also never forget how one time she dropped me by accident on some gravel and busted my mouth open. I tried to look tough in front of her, but hey. I was seven. I ended up sobbing for my Mommy. 

     All of this to say I hate Justin Bieber and I do challenge him to a dual. Peace.