Red-Hooded Jacket

Eight years old and I was waiting for the bus in front of school. I was wearing my favorite red hooded-jacket, like I would any day, whether it was warm or cold. It was just a coincidence that it was cold that day as I waited on the school sidewalk. It had clouded up when school ended, and the skies would growl every so often, threatening to rain down on us. Still, we waited, like any other day. However, that day I was sitting next to a special someone. A girl that I had openly proclaimed my love to; an important and at the same time not very important proclamation for an eight year old who acted like he was four. We both had brown skin, black eyes, and dark brown eyes. We had the same racial background, which in that school was different from the rest. She was kind, smart, but maybe a little too rational to be in that class. Still, she was pretty and I liked her.
She sat beside me that day, and as it began to drizzle, I looked over at her and I saw her glasses placed upon her cute nose. “Your glasses are getting wet,” I said quickly. She probably knew that already. She was much smarter than any of us were, but all she did was turn to me and smile, before slipping them away from her nose and folding them up. She looked back up to me and said, “Thank you.” I smiled.
It was raining a bit harder. I looked over at her and noticed that she had no jacket on. I then unzipped my favorite red hooded-jacket, and slowly put it around her shoulders. She looked at me in…surprise or confusion, maybe both, but I replied, “To keep you warm.” She nodded and gave me that same smile, before looking away and closing my jacket around her tighter. After that, I am sure that I was proud of myself for being courteous to a girl without sounding like much of a moron. After that I am not sure how I got the next idea, but all of a sudden, my bare arm snaked its way through the rain and I felt my hand close loosely around her shoulder. Moments later, I felt the weight of her head against my shoulder. I looked in her direction, but I could only see her hair and I could barely see her lips. I wondered if she was smiling, and I wondered if it was because of me. If only I had had the chance to ask her…
The next school year, she disappeared without a trace. I never saw her again, but I will never forget her. I have always asked myself what it would be like if I had met her again now that I am older, and a bit more rational than I was before. I might ask her normal questions, to see if she had remembered me, or if she had even cared. Maybe I would ask if she remembered that time, when my red-hooded jacket was around her shoulders. She might say no, and she might say yes. Either way, after a long time, the only goal in my head with meeting her would be curiosity. I wondered and imagined how she would look as she got older. I could see her lovely dark hair grow longer around her face. And her round glasses placed snuggly on her nose. I cannot say how her face may have changed, but what I can say is that she must have turned beautiful. I know, that everything about her must have changed, save for three things. Her smile, her eyes, and my red hooded-jacket over her shoulders.