I remember more about the First Grade than anyone should.

The 5th graders had an intimidating status. These punks would play Pogs in the hall and throw slammers at one another, which was against the rules and eventually ruined it for everyone when Pogs were deemed “illegal” on school grounds. Those rebels played anyway, continuously getting caught and served colorful discipline slips.

I knew that my brother was somewhere in the building, only a year and a half older than me but somehow two grades ahead. I never bothered to try and figure out where he was because he was some sort of book-smart genius and our paths never crossed. I was street smart, and spent my time hunting for small animal skeletons on the playground.

One day somebody found the skull of a squirrel perched in a pine tree along the back fence of the lot. I became part of a bone collecting team that scoured the area for other tiny skulls, rib bones and whatever else we could find which, in retrospect, was a disturbing amount. I took some of the bones home and kept them in a bucket in the garage like a psycho.

My best friend had bright green eyes and light brown, curly hair. She was missing her front teeth for the yearbook picture, and she was hilarious and loyal.

I remember the girl who used to steal stuff out of my desk, or ask to “borrow” things, and never return them. I called her on it, and she fired back at me with some kid-level swears. I told her open her desk to prove her innocence, which she would not do.

I had a serious crush on a short boy in my class with a dirty blonde hair shaped into a bowl cut. One morning when we were all out on the playground, I pushed him, unsolicited, down the slide. He landed face down in the wood chips at the end of it, stood up and angry cried. I wanted to disappear in mortification. He threatened to tell the teacher which broke my heart and terrified me at the same time. His eyes followed me for the rest of the day, but never tattled. And I never forgot.

When the time came for second grade I was transferred to a brand new elementary school because it was built closer to our house. Some other kids in my class were transferred also, but that group did not include my best friend or my crush. I was inconsolable until the new school year started and I adapted as everything reset itself. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that first, gentle lesson in the way life doesn’t turn out the way you think it will.

Luciana, 30