• First, there was Jamison.

He was pale and had freckles and red hair. He was the de facto leader of my first grade class. I thought he was confident and utterly cool. My friend and I decided that we would write love letters to our crushes. I would write to Jamison. I remember sitting on the floor of our apartment making him a card. I wanted to write something unique, something poetic and beautiful that would make him like me. I kept asking my mom what I could write. She didn't know. The only thing I could think of was "Roses are red, violets are blue and I like you." And so I wrote it. I put it on his desk at lunch. I was found out. He and his posse relentlessly questioned me. The gem of our little argument. Me: I know you sent you it. Him: Who? Me: NOT ME! I was a very intelligent child, can't you tell? Anyway, my love for him faded and so did my friendship with what's-her-name because she never gave her love letter to her crush. Embarrassed and utterly ashamed, I vowed never to love another red-headed freckled boy. And I haven't since.

• Second, there was a nameless boy who was friends with my best friend in pre-school, kindergarten and first grade.

Nameless Boy set a standard for Savanna Crushes. He had black hair. He was fun. And I didn't really know him. This automatically made him some kind of idol to me. I didn't really know much about him so I could fill in the blanks. He was cute and that was enough. I think he might have been Mexican but I remember him very pale.

• Third, there was Matt/Bill in second grade.

I liked Matt/Bill. He was white, of course. He had a buzz cut and I think he had blonde hair. We sat at the same table. The trouble with Matt/Bill was that he was an idiot. I hated him. The first day I thought he was cute. By the second I loathed him and loathed myself for liking him. Luckily, I transferred to a new school in another state and found crush number four but I still haven't fully forgiven myself for liking such a hillbilly bastard.

• Fourth, there was Nameless Boy II in second grade part two.

He had brown hair, that I remember. His name might have been Brad. Actually, I think it was. Second grade was when I discovered what being "cool" was and where I also discovered that I wanted to be it. Brad was cool. I remember being taught how to square dance in gym class. I wanted nothing more than to be paired with Brad. I was sure that he would fall in love with me after witnessing first-hand my awesome dosie doeing skills. And finally I got my wish. Sadly, that was our first and last dance together. Maybe he had two left feet or something but I never crushed on him after that.

• Fifth, there was Eric in third and fourth grade.

After transferring to yet another school, I went back to my origins and found another nice leader boy. Eric was kind, pale and sometimes blond in my memory. I crushed on him from afar and also admired his skills to stop a playground fight. What can I say? I really liked nice guys.

• Sixth, there were the two Brandons.

The Brandons were cool. Brandon I was a leader type, cool-headed and a normal guy. Brandon II was the bad boy. I crushed on them at random, sometimes overlapping instances. My crush on Brandon II ended when I saw him itching his crotch in the library. I mean, he was really going at it. And I was disgusted. Then he saw me and did the "what are you looking at?" routine. I hated him after that. Brandon I became too nice and boring for me.

• Seventh, (Seventh?! Really??) there was Logan in seventh grade.

Logan was an on and off crush up until my senior year of high school. He had black hair. He was tall. I first saw him in my seventh grade language arts class. I liked him immediately. He was quiet and nice to look at. When I heard him speak-and he turned out not to be so nice-I stopped liking him. My crush rekindled in high school, when I didn't have to hear him speak anymore and I could simply look at him in the hallways. Typical Savanna Crush.

• Eighth, there was Zeke.

I also met Zeke in seventh grade and had a crush on him until freshman year. He was mixed, which was strange for me because any kind of tan on a guy reminds me too much of my black relatives and sexual attraction runs out of the room. My best memories of the Zeke crush were in eighth grade, where he sat behind me in social studies. I would always know the answers to the jeopardy game. He would try to compete with me and profess amazement at my mad skills. Then he shaved his fro and my crush-love disappeared.

• Ninth, there was a nameless black boy.

Yes, I know-"Savanna liked a black boy??? WHAAAAT??". But I did. So did my best friend. It was eighth grade and he was smooth. My crush ended and then Tanatswa's became the subject of drama. I still remember him walking down the hallway on the night of the Eighth grade dance with two girls on each arm, winking at us.

• Tenth, there was another nameless black boy.

So many black boys! This one wasn't as smooth. He was more of the gangster type. But he was still quite suave and I found myself crushing on him for fifteen minutes in eighth grade.

• Eleventh, there was Taylor Delperdang, the last in the string of eighth grade crushes.

Oh Taylor, you would be known as the He Who Looks Like A Girl From Behind, The King of Emo, the Former King of Emo, the Fro-Man and one half of Ebony and Ivory in the future, when he stopped straightening his platinum blond hair and running from the sunlight as if it were a plague. But I liked him for a second. Then Tanatswa liked him and she liked him much more than I did. There was a load of drama related to him but that's another story.

• Twelfth, there was Chris.

Chris was indie. He was the boy who I never thought really existed in Iowa. He had curly chocolate brown hair, eternally wore Earth tones and made my heart go pitter-patter in Mock Trial meetings. He also gave me a nose fetish. I still feel a little excitement when I see him.

• Thirteenth, there was Kameron.

Kameron was a funny guy. He joked, he jested and he made me laugh. Freshman year, LA folks. I never saw him again after that but I heard he met some strippers in New York.

• Fourteenth, there was Nathan.

Oh Nathan. My friend and off-again crush. He asked me to Prom via hangman. And then he didn't. It was complicated. It always is with him. He's the boy who I thought was just a seat buddy but was really a friend, the boy who constantly confuses me even though I'm convinced he's bland and average.

• Fifteenth, Trent.

I don't even get this. Blame overflowing hormones. It was for about a week. And then I went back to going, "Wait, isn't he gay?"