The last time I was at Skateville, I was eight years old and my mom reluctantly allowed me to wear my slutty Limited Too, rhinestone-bedazzled, one-shoulder sleeved shirt to our school field trip to Skateville. It was my favorite shirt. Moreover, it was pertinent that I was dripped the fuck out because I had one goal: to have Cody Bestul ask me to Snowball.
The cutest boy in 2nd grade, Cody was your classic, skinny, blonde, white boy who was Simply Nice®. Specifically, to me. A rarity amidst the cult of white boys who made fun of my unibrow, the nest atop my head I called “hair”, and my penchant for school. Cody once remarked to me, “Woah, you got nothing wrong on your spelling test? That’s cool.” I let Cody look over my folder for every following spelling test.
“Iiiiiiiit’s The Snowball,” Skateville’s DJ thundered over the scratchy speakers, “Boys, you have ten seconds to ask a partner to skate with you. Pairs only for this next song! And Clayton, once again, your Hawaiian pizza is ready for you. It’s been ready.”
My best friend at the time, Gretta, nervously squeezed my hand. Bright, daring, and one of those kids that parents comment about with a strangely sexualised wink, “Oh, you’ll have trouble with this one when she gets older!”, she was unquestionably Highland Elementary School’s Heather.
Gretta breathlessly squealed, “Who do you think is going to ask us?!” My eyes gazed across the rink as Cody floated over the glistening wood floor. Towards me. Oh, c-word (crap). It’s happening. He offered a dimpled smile and extended his hand… To Gretta. Beaming under the twinkle of the disco ball, they giggled their matching blonde-haired heads off and glided away. Leaving me and my slutty Limited Too, rhinestone-bedazzled, one-shoulder sleeved shirt behind.
I forgive you, Cody. But, I’ll never forget.
My favorite shirt has since been given to Good Will. And Limited Too, a long defunct business, is now called Justice lmao. #ad
@justice @skatevillemn 
