I don’t like him. I wrote his name in my diary once, but I crossed it out so now no one can see it. I scribbled so hard that the pen showed through on the back of the page. I bet I’ll forget that I even wrote it.

Yesterday I got off the school bus. He lives near the bus stop. I looked up and saw the telephone wire that his old sneakers hang from. They’re orange, the same color as his hair. I don’t know how he threw them up there. Every time I walk home I jump as high as I can, but I can’t reach them.

I came in the house and threw my jacket on the ground. Mom told me to hang it up; she does every day. I hate hanging it up. I’m just going to wear it again anyway. I sat at the kitchen table and ate pretzel sticks. I lick the salt off until they get soggy, and then Mom gets mad when I throw the rest away. I saw him running through my backyard then. His shoe fell off. I ran outside to catch up with him. "Don’t slam the door. And come in if it starts to rain," Mom said.

While he was tying up his shoes, I looked down at mine. They’re pink and light up. And they don’t have shoelaces. It’s easier. They never come untied or get tangled. You just rip off the straps like a Band-Aid, except they make a loud crackling noise.

"D’ya wanna play on the swings?"

I said that I did. We play in my backyard a lot. I have a swing set that has two swings, a sliding board, and even a trapeze. The trapeze is our favorite. He taught me how to hang upside down and do a flip. It looks scarier than it is. You just put your hands on the bar, jump up so that your legs hang over it, and push your body backward. Flipping over the trapeze makes me think of a big ocean wave that knocked me over once. I kept turning over and over, and I couldn’t tell what was down and what was up.

When I hang from the trapeze it feels like I’m in another world. The backyard looks different like that. The trees grow from the leaves to the roots, and everyone’s shoes are glued to the grass. I stared at him until my head started to get heavy and fuzzy, and then I flipped back down into the right-side-up world. I got mud on my sneakers. But that’s okay. They always get dirty anyway.

He sat down on a one-person swing, so I did too. I pumped my legs in and out, in and out, in and out. That’s how you do it. We raced to see who could swing higher. It was a tie. If we went any higher we would have flipped right over the bar. I can’t swing that high yet, but I’m close.

Then I kicked my shoe off to see how far I could get it. Mine beat his the first time, but his second shoe went past all the rest. The left foot is harder to kick, though, so I wasn’t mad.

I didn’t want him to leave yet, so we had a jumping contest. I beat him that time. You have to swing just high enough before you jump, and I practice a lot so I know when.

"You cheated," he said.

"I didn’t cheat. My sneaker is past yours."

Our shoes mark how far we jumped. He just didn’t want to say that I won because boys are like that sometimes.

"I’m done swinging," he said.

I told him he was just mad that I beat him, and I kept swinging. It started to rain, though, so we went inside. Mom yelled that I didn’t wipe my shoes on the mat but didn’t say anything to him, even though his were muddier than mine.

We went into the living room where my sister was playing House with her friend. They needed a Mom and Dad, so we played too. We set up the yellow plastic chairs with two in the front, two in the back. I sat in the driver’s seat and took the family to the zoo. We got out of the car, and the stuffed animals smiled at us from the couch and acted friendly. You’re allowed to pet them at this zoo.

"Go look at the animals, kids," he said.

"Yes, listen to Dad," I said.

He leaned down to tie his shoe, and when he came up I kissed him real quick. I never did that before. But that’s what Moms and Dads do, so I was just playing.

Then he ran out of the house. Even though it was raining and muddy, I chased after him. But he lost his shoe when he was running, and I tripped over it. It hurt. I threw the muddy sneaker as hard as I could because I couldn’t catch up.

But it’s okay. I don’t like him anyway.