From 3rd Grade to 13
Remembering
3rd grade, now that you look back on it the only thing good about it was that one kid. What was his name again? Oh yeah, that’s right, Brendon, Brendon Urie. The one who could always put a smile on your face, that you weren’t afraid to chase around the skate rink to hold hands with even though his friend called you a freak because guys don’t hold other guys hands. What was his friends name again? Oh yeah, Spencer wasn’t it? Not that it matters much anymore. You can still remember exactly what he looked like, short, black hair, a bit taller than you, nothing out of the ordinary. You can also still remember that dream you had one night about him, the one where you two were sitting on the front steps, it was night time, and the stars were glowing outside, pretty odd for the sub burbs, and than he said something, you don’t remember what the something was, but you do remember him kissing you afterwards. You woke up with quite a big grin on your face that morning.
Fast forward to the end of 8th grade, you still go to a private school, although you left the one you met him at in 4th grade, which is the same year you were sad Brendon didn’t come back. You remember a lot of crying your fourth grade year, not because he didn’t come back, but because the kids were vicious and snotty. Your parents finally got sick of it and pulled you out of that one to send you to another one, after that things got a bit better. But anyway, it’s the end of 8th grade, your excited as hell to go to a public school for the first time next year, maybe actually find a few people who have the same interests as you. You’re sitting in a chair in the corner of your older friends room (she is in the 9th grade) flipping through her 8th grade yearbook, looking at the 7th graders trying to see if they guys are as hot as you are hoping the will be, not that they will be interested in you anyway. You are on about the 5th page of faces when you see it, the name is flashing in front of your eyes, like it had a sign saying “look here” around it and is pointing to the name, the name you haven’t thought about for a while but now want to talk to more than ever, Brendon Urie.
“Oh.My.God” Your jaw drops, and you stare at the picture for a minute, collecting your thoughts and memories.
“What is it Ry?” Your friend asks, looking up from her ever so loved Nirvana cd case.
“Have I ever told you about Brendon?”
“No.”
“Well, I used to like him, more than I should have, in 3rd grade and he left in 4th and I haven’t seen him since,”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because he is in your fucking yearbook,”
“What?”
She walked over and looked over your shoulder. You pointed at his picture, “He looks so different.”
“Well that’s kind of what happens when people grow up Ry,”
“Oh shut up, do you have a copy machine?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Cause I want to copy the picture..”
“What ever,” she led you down stairs and you got the picture copied. You folded the sheet of paper up so you could only see his picture and shoved in your pocket. You made up some lame excuse to go home.
On your way back you had been brainstorming ideas on how to get in contact with him because for some reason that picture made you want to talk to him and hear his voice and see if he had turned out a jerk, which you prayed wasn’t the case. Myspace was an obvious one, but how to get it, you didn’t want to go searching for it, that would be stalkerish. Than you realized an old family friend lived next door to him and their daughter was on your friends list. Bingo! You found her IM on her profile and asked her for it, after a couple questions she handed the link over to you. You figured it would be best to add him and send a message so he didn’t think you were some person just adding random people. It took you quite a while to come up with one where you didn’t think you sounded stupid and that was this:
From: Ryroboiii
Date: Feb 19, 2007 4:21 PM
Hi, its Ryan from St. Mary’s
Remember 3rd grade?
Well, just thought I would say hi and ask how you have been.
Now all you had to do was sit back and wait for a reply.
Fast forward to the end of 8th grade, you still go to a private school, although you left the one you met him at in 4th grade, which is the same year you were sad Brendon didn’t come back. You remember a lot of crying your fourth grade year, not because he didn’t come back, but because the kids were vicious and snotty. Your parents finally got sick of it and pulled you out of that one to send you to another one, after that things got a bit better. But anyway, it’s the end of 8th grade, your excited as hell to go to a public school for the first time next year, maybe actually find a few people who have the same interests as you. You’re sitting in a chair in the corner of your older friends room (she is in the 9th grade) flipping through her 8th grade yearbook, looking at the 7th graders trying to see if they guys are as hot as you are hoping the will be, not that they will be interested in you anyway. You are on about the 5th page of faces when you see it, the name is flashing in front of your eyes, like it had a sign saying “look here” around it and is pointing to the name, the name you haven’t thought about for a while but now want to talk to more than ever, Brendon Urie.
“Oh.My.God” Your jaw drops, and you stare at the picture for a minute, collecting your thoughts and memories.
“What is it Ry?” Your friend asks, looking up from her ever so loved Nirvana cd case.
“Have I ever told you about Brendon?”
“No.”
“Well, I used to like him, more than I should have, in 3rd grade and he left in 4th and I haven’t seen him since,”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because he is in your fucking yearbook,”
“What?”
She walked over and looked over your shoulder. You pointed at his picture, “He looks so different.”
“Well that’s kind of what happens when people grow up Ry,”
“Oh shut up, do you have a copy machine?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Cause I want to copy the picture..”
“What ever,” she led you down stairs and you got the picture copied. You folded the sheet of paper up so you could only see his picture and shoved in your pocket. You made up some lame excuse to go home.
On your way back you had been brainstorming ideas on how to get in contact with him because for some reason that picture made you want to talk to him and hear his voice and see if he had turned out a jerk, which you prayed wasn’t the case. Myspace was an obvious one, but how to get it, you didn’t want to go searching for it, that would be stalkerish. Than you realized an old family friend lived next door to him and their daughter was on your friends list. Bingo! You found her IM on her profile and asked her for it, after a couple questions she handed the link over to you. You figured it would be best to add him and send a message so he didn’t think you were some person just adding random people. It took you quite a while to come up with one where you didn’t think you sounded stupid and that was this:
From: Ryroboiii
Date: Feb 19, 2007 4:21 PM
Hi, its Ryan from St. Mary’s
Remember 3rd grade?
Well, just thought I would say hi and ask how you have been.
Now all you had to do was sit back and wait for a reply.