Memento
Val Lanier
wrinkled her nose at Tyler Connell and his team.
"I want to
play football," she insisted, stomping her foot. "Not hopscotch."
"But you're
a girl," said Keith Farver, leaning over Tyler's shoulder. Six-year-old
Val stuck her tongue out at him.
"Well, so
are you," she said, tossing her blond pigtails. Her best friend Caitie nodded
at Keith from behind Val.
"Don't call
me a girl," Keith commanded. Val rolled her eyes. She was tiny, but everyone
knew her right hook was about as powerful as Hank Beecham's, which was saying a
lot.
"Don't call
me one," glowered Val.
"You are
one," Keith pointed out. Val leaned in so that her eyes were inches away from
his.
"Never.
Call. Me. A. Girl," she said very clearly, punctuating her words with periods,
her new favorite kind of speech.
"Okay, why
don't we just let them play?" Tyler suggested, knowing he, being the captain of
the team for today, would be blamed if a fight broke out. Besides, he didn't
like fights.
Val nodded
agreeably and clenched a fist in Keith's face.
"Fine,
fine." Keith, though very chauvinistic, was smart enough to realize that people
would make fun of him if he got his face punched in by a girl, not to mention a
girl as tiny as Val.
"Thank
you." Val lowered her fist and she and Caitie looked very innocently at the
boys. "Now, whose team are we on?"
*
Ten minutes
later, the boys had realized that Val and Caitie were very good at scoring
goals and throwing the ball.
"I've got
an older brother," Caitie explained to the sweaty boys after making her third
goal. "He's on the Junior Varsity," she bragged, "and he teaches me and Val how
t' play."
"No fair,"
complained Tyler, grabbing for the ball cradled under Val's arm. "And I'm going
to kiss you if you don't give it back!"
"No!"
shrieked Val, taking off with Tyler close behind.
"TyLER,
TyLER, TyLER," began the chant of the boys. Caitie turned and planted her hands
on her hips, scowling. Several of the boys began to say "Val, Val, Val, Val,"
much to Caitie's satisfaction.
"Don't kiss
me, please," begged Val; aware her legs were much shorter than Tyler's.
"Give back
the ball!"
The two
blonds were running in circles around the jungle gym. The girls had joined in
the clapping and cheering: "Val, Val, Val, Val," and a few who had a crush on
Tyler, "TyLER, TyLER, TyLER!"
"Aiee!" Val
screamed, scrambling up and over the jungle gym with Tyler following her.
"I want the
ball!"
"Don't kiss
me!"
"Ball!"
"No kiss!"
"C'mon,
Val, just give me the ball!"
"No way!"
"Fine, I'll
kiss you!"
"Noooo!"
"I want the
ball!"
"Don't kiss
me!"
On their
eleventh trip around the jungle gym (Caitie had been counting), Val began to
run out of power.
"Ball!" he
yelled happily, pouncing.
"No!" Val
returned, crawling up the slide with him on her tail.
"I'm going
to have to kiss you!"
"I have
cooties," argued Val.
"So do I!"
Val
clutched the foam ball to her chest tightly.
"Nope," she
insisted. "No kiss or ball."
"Ball or I
kiss you!" Tyler said, jumping in front of her, trapping her in the corner.
"No!"
"Ball!"
And with a
final shake of her head, the small blonde girl sealed her fate. Tyler Connell
kissed her. On the lips.
"Ew!" she
said, wiping off her lips. Tyler followed suit.
"You do
have cooties," he said with a smirk.
"I do not,"
she told him indignantly.
"Give me
the ball or I'll kiss you again." His eyes gleamed. Val frowned.
"Nope."
"Fine!"
He kissed
her again. Val shuddered. He was a good kisser, but she was six, and she
was a tomboy, and so she sacrificed the precious ball on the grounds he
wouldn't kiss her again.
*
Ten years
later, they stood staring at each other after a kiss that had lasted much
longer than the first grade one.
"Playback
of first grade," Tyler told her with a smile once he could speak with the
shock. "Slow motion."
"A
memento," Val agreed. "A memento."
