I have gingervitis. Not the nasty gum disease that 4/5 dentists recommend Crest to prevent.
I have a thing for redheaded boys.
At first, I assumed that this was a fluke – that one boy out of the many I’ve liked since I started liking boys happened to twin with Ron Weasley. But yesterday, as I started cleaning out the boxes of keepsakes under my bed (I’m getting rid of most clutter since future generations have no use for a picture of a caterpillar that I made in preschool), I realised that this has always been a thing. I have always liked a redheaded boy.
I guess we should start when I was 9 years old. I wasn’t interested in boys then, but when I went to see Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone in the cinema, I came to life. Not because my favourite series was alive in front of my face, but because Harry Potter’s best friend was so stinking cute. And this continued with every film that came out – as the cast aged, so did I and so did my massive crush on Ron Weasley.
In 7th grade, I was in a class of 6 people – not 16, not 60, but 6. I went to a tiny private school that housed kids from infancy in their daycare to 8th grade. Most classes reduced significantly after 6th grade because a lot of the kids who had been in private school for their entire lives chose to go public for middle school. Anyways. One of the main things that attracts me to a guy is a sense of humour. If you make me laugh, I’m probably a little in love with you. And I had a major crush on this redheaded boy in my class – remember, tiny pond so don’t even bother fishing. But luckily, I never dated this guy (a goth girl in the grade below did, for about two years I think) because he turned out to be gay and draws bad fanart of Louis Tomlinson.
In 9th grade, I had a crush on a guy 3 years older than me who was in theatre and played bass in a heavy metal band. And he looked like a leprechaun in the best possible way. He was a couple of inches taller than I was and when he came back from college for a visit the following autumn, he had the most excellent ginger beard (which, in my professional opinion, are the best beards). This crush died by the second semester of my sophomore year in high school when I realised that the college guys who date high school girls are creepy and that his life had moved on from the walls of our private high school. Also? I don’t like heavy metal that much. That was the first time I tried to like it and it did not last long (I am a sultry indie, lo-fi girl at heart. Give me Best Coast and Belle and Sebastian any day).
I stuck to dark-haired boys for awhile after this and described my ideal type as dark hair, light eyes, tall and musical/creative.
But my junior year of college, I became involved with a boy whose hair I would insist was strawberry blonde. My senior year roommate would later insist it was orange. Every person who would see his picture would say, “Oh, he’s a redhead!” And I would adamantly protest. I can admit it now – he was a redhead. A milder form, but he was absolutely a redhead. The spring of my senior year, at our school’s annual Barn Party, I managed to kiss a cute boy in a field of nettles. All I remember about him is that his name was Steve and he had freckles…and reddish hair.
And as everyone probably knows, Current Boy is a Ron Weasley doppelgänger whom I love to torment. I tell him I’ll pray for his soul – oh wait. I told him last week that I still think he’s cute despite the red hair and he told me he admires me for that. Truth is, he sets my heart a-blazin’ just as fiery hot as his hair.
I thought Current Boy was an exception to the rule. That his case was a rarity. But truth be told, I guess I’ve always maintained that the world looks better in black and white…and red.