When We Were Us (Keeping Score, #1)

“All right then. Nat doesn’t understand that. He doesn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings, but he just says whatever he thinks or feels, without considering how it might make other people feel.”


And in pre-k, there were probably lots of kids who didn’t worry too much about how other people felt, but it was really bad with Nat. He would tell the teacher about every mistake she made. He told the other children they couldn’t read well or counted wrong or didn’t know how to tie their shoes. It was never mean-spirited, it was just matter of fact Nat.

As we went through school, Jesse and I tried to gently tell Nat that he couldn’t share every thought that came into his mind the minute he thought it. He never understood, although I think he learned to tone it down a little. Sometimes Jesse or I would give him a look, and he would realize he was going too far.

By the end of pre-k, though, everyone knew and accepted Nat. No one ever picked on him or called him names. That lasted through fourth grade, until we changed schools and moved over to Herbert Andrews Elementary. On the first day, as I walked onto the playground, I saw Nat in the middle of a bunch of bigger kids, and it didn’t look like they were planning a game of tag. Nat was doing his swaying thing, which he only does when he’s really nervous. No one else really notices it, but I knew what it meant.

Right before I took off to help him, I saw Jesse. He was standing between me and Nat, and I knew he saw what was happening. But before I could really wonder why he wasn’t doing anything, I saw one of the boys shove Nat. He almost went down. And if he went down, I knew it wouldn’t be good.

So I sprinted across the playground. At Marian Johnson, the playground was a dusty field. But here at HA, the whole thing was asphalt, painted here and there with maps and other pictures I guess people thought were educational. All I knew was that I wanted to get to Nat before those kids knocked him onto that hard concrete. And I made it. I didn’t plan how I was going to stop them. They were all much bigger than me, and I never was any good at that kind of fighting anyway. Jesse always says I use my words better than he uses his fists. I wasn’t sure my words were going to make much difference here, but I guess they did something, because the boys backed down.

After they were gone, I expected. . well, I don’t know what I expected. I guess maybe I thought Nat might say thanks. And maybe Jesse would think I had done a good thing. But they both acted like I was the one who’d almost beat up our best friend. And I think Nat was actually mad at me.

Things didn’t get any better for Nat the rest of the year. We were dealing with more than just the kids who had always been in our class; now we were at the bottom of the school ladder. Fifth graders overall were easy pickings for the older kids, and Nat was an especially easy target.

But what really made things hard was what happened with Jesse. As the year went on, it seemed like Jesse was moving farther away from Nat and me. He didn’t always hang out with us on the playground in the mornings. He ate lunch with us, but then afterward he would sometimes go off with other boys and run around, play whatever game they put together. Nat and I sat on the bottom rungs of the monkey bars or on swings if we could get to them before they were all taken. We talked about school and about our families.

It was cool, and mostly I didn’t mind hanging out with Nat. He listened to me, and he didn’t think what I said was silly. And I liked hearing him talk about the stuff he was reading, his latest visits to the doctors and what he learned there, and about his mom and dad. But sometimes I would look out at the other kids, running and climbing and playing, and I would want to be a part of that. I didn’t understand how Jesse could just leave us there, but at the same time, I wished sometimes that I were out there playing with the rest of our classmates, too.

If Nat knew what I was I thinking, he never said anything. Which of course makes me think he didn’t know, because as I said, Nat didn’t hold anything back, especially with Jesse and me. Even after he learned to stop saying everything that crossed his mind in front of other people, he always told Jesse and me what he thought. I guess I was pretty good at hiding how I felt. And Nat never said anything bad about Jesse either, even though sometimes I saw his eyes follow whatever game everyone else was playing.

Tawdra Kandle's books