The First.

He will never set the world on fire.




Not like this.



I could see it in his writing. Such a young talent, with the gift to make words leap off the page and become a golden palace deep in the middle of an unforgiving desert, or a happy monkey enjoying the simple pleasures of a meal in a local zoo. The boy had the touch.



What happened? It was unlike Oliver to leave his assignments undone. An A plus student did not just stop writing and working to the point where his grades began to drastically slip.



I leaned back heavily in my creaky wooden chair, burdened with the mystery and observed the class with my hands wrapped behind my neck, supporting the full weight of my weary head.



They were just an average eight grade class full of young boys on the cusp of becoming young men, and young girls already going through that awkward stage as they developed into radiant young women. I guess they were all a little awkward. How many of these boys and girls would lead the future of mankind into a new age of golden prosperity? How many will achieve everything they ever dreamed of? How many of them will fall short?



Shaking my head slowly to clear my thoughts, I zoned out as the children went about their work in silence. Shakespeare wasn't the most thrilling of subjects for young minds. Many a dull look gazing at stagnant pages were a testament to the wonder of the subject. Little Jack Hanson was clearly sleeping behind the propped up pages of Romeo and Juliet in the back of the room. Not even these centuries old works could muffle the sharp snore of youth in revolt.



Chuckling to myself, I realized it wasn't that long ago I was in their shoes, sitting in those same desks, wishing this hell would stop and let me off the dreaded ride for the day...



A movement in the back corner of the room caught my eye. Oliver was reaching to grab a note passed to him by a pretty little blonde girl that went by the name of Patty Shenowski. Leaning back a little further in my chair, I observed Oliver out of the corner of my eye as he opened the note and read it. A fiery blush spread across his face contrasting greatly with his shaggy black hair and usually pale complexion. He reached for his pencil and began to flip through his copy of Romeo and Juliet, pausing here and there to scribble something on that piece of paper that had set his face aflame. After a time he folded up the note into its original shape and handed it back to Patty, who flashed him a sweet smile of pure honey causing Oliver's face to flame to a new shade of ruby red. You could almost feel the heat from here...



"Ahhh."I whispered under my breath as something clicked together in my mind.



Leaning forward towards my desk, I rustled through some papers until I came to the folder marked "Return Assignments."



Flipping through its contents quickly, I pulled out a few of Patties most recently graded assignments and everything fell into place. Patty had never been the greatest writer; in fact she had to be one of the laziest and worst students in the class. But she was pretty and popular. Her grades had started improving lately, almost a little too drastically.



Chuckling a little harder to myself, I leaned back in my chair once again and watched Patty write what I assumed were the correct answers on today's worksheet from the unfolded note barley concealed in her lap by her desk. Glancing at Oliver, I caught him sneaking nervous glances her way and grinning like a ...well like a young boy with a crush.



"I must be getting old," I whispered breathlessly to myself as a deep internal chuckle at my own folly, rocked my stomach.



I couldn't blame the lad I realized. Why I remember my first crush like it was yesterday...