I fortuitously met him on a Friday in August 1993 outside Oaklawn Middle School, and all because I wasn't paying attention when crossing the street. His luxurious car driven by one of his servants almost ran me over. I remember that scene vividly: two well-dressed men got out of the car, and then the elegantly dressed little man got out after them; very handsome, I must admit. The two adult men approached me first and asked if I was okay. Obviously, I was on the ground and scared of almost dying there, but I quickly got up due to the commotion caused by my fellow first-year high school students. I remember saying that I was fine, that it had been my fault.
Before leaving, the handsome boy asked with a typical millionaire voice, somewhat arrogant but with a touch of honesty: "if you'd like, you can come to the mansion, the one at the top of the forest." I don't remember exactly what I said in response, but to get out of his gaze, which made me nervous, I think I said "yes," and then he said they would take me home that day, which I agreed to. The rest is history.
The little of those two summers that we spent together as friends, I have to confess that I fell in love with James Marshall. He was so beautiful, he had something irresistible that made my stomach flutter. But I never confessed my love to him. I don't know, I was always afraid he would call me ugly or simply reject me. He was almost 14 and I was almost 11, but I looked like I was 8.
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