Not Far From the Tree

My little apple. She's got her first crush. And it's on the bad boy from the class. Of course, he isn't really that bad being only nine years old, but he's the baddest of the third grade boys. He's extremely intelligent, wears dark clothing, and has an air of indifference about him. He is "way cool." All the girls love him, especially mine.

I always loved the bad boys, too. And it was never good. Fun, certainly. Exciting, absolutely. Good, never. I can't bear to watch history repeat itself. I've got about a million bad boy stories, none of them with a happy ending. But I remind myself she's only eight, so I'm going to be rational and calm and not run screaming at her to be careful and to watch out. I'm just nervous that one day that's exactly what I might have to do. Eight going on eighteen.

My little apple. Oh no.