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Mocha Java

The stale gymnasium smell I was used to lingered in the air, as I sat wearily in silence. It had been a week since she and I had a half-decent conversation. I mean, I had to pin this on myself. It was all my fault, after all. I've learned that jokes are funny, but when you push them too far, you might end up getting slammed up against a wall and threatened.

I watched from across the gym, as she made no attempt to speak to me. I've called her, texted her, and nothing seemed to work. I had apologized so much, but I guess it was never enough. She was one of my best friends, and that thought was gone. Our friendship was shredded up and tossed into oblivion.

She walked by me in the gym. I looked at her with sorrow in my eyes. Nothing in return, but a glance. I wish I had the words to say to make her realize that I as trully sorry, and my heart was full of regret. I was guilty as charged. She continued walking past me. My heart stopped in place.

The most I desired at the moment was for her to pick a spot to sit. Far from me, that was. She kept moving. A gaping hole was being ripped into my heart, as I heard her voice, three people to my right. I tried to block out her words.

The breakfast bell sounded. I stood up, but paused in my tracks. I waited for the other students to pass me so she would be far away from me. I was scared. I was desiring attention with all my heart, the night it happened. I had to make jokes. I just had to ridicule her. It wasn't fair.

The jokes were about her being on the short side. I didn't know that they bothered her so much. I guess I couldn't have taken the blunt hint of being slammed up against the wall two weeks earlier.

I didn't mean to hurt her. They were supposed to be jokes. I mean, if people were laughing, they were funny right? Wrong. Not all jokes are funny. The jokes I use are mean and the hilarity is cruel. But the thing is, she was blowing the jokes way out of proportion. It's like she knew it would torture me by not talking to me. It was like payback.

She didn't understand that I adore people who are "undertall" or "fun-sized". It's just how I've always thought. It was the way that things ran through my mind and were processed. My brain is encoded in thousands of tiny details about numerous intricate topics, and she didn't know. No one knew.

The bell that ended breakfast rang. I didn't eat, because I felt sick to my stomach. As soon as I got to English, I laid my head down on my desk. Moments later, my friend tapped my shoulder and ask me if I was okay. I put on a fake smile, lied through my teeth, and returned to my sheltered sanctum.

I didn't know why I was so upset. After all, it was just one friend, right? You're wrong, again. She was the only person I shared my life with. Every other heartbeat was hers. She knew mostly all of my past and accepted it even if she didn't like it. Without her, my heart slowed and my emotions settled at rock bottom.
~
It was a brand new day, and a brand new mood. I felt a whole lot better about the day after for some reason. I got up, after tapping my snooze button about seven times. I took a shower and got ready for the last day of school before Thanksgiving Break.

When my dad came to take me to school, I asked him if he could buy me some coffee. He agreed and started the car. We got there and an idea hatched in my brain. I asked him if he could buy two coffees instead of one, and so he did. After we ordered, he dropped me off next to the outside doors to the bandroom. The doors were unlocked for some strange reason. I walked in and set my bookbag and trumpet case down, and turned on the lights. I stopped as the lights buzzed and flickered on.

I sat down and finished my coffee as soon as the bell rang for breakfast. I walked out the hallway doors and headed to the cafeteria. I set the second coffee on the table in front of me and waited. Then there she was, I started to tremble. The pain began to swell in my chest. She set her books down and looked at me.

I stood up and handed her the coffee. I didn't put any thought behind was I was going to say, so I tripped over every other word. But I was deperate for forgiveness, so I told her,
"Look,
you don't have to speak to me, you
just have to listen. I am sorry. I feel so guilty
and I swear I'll never say anything rude or
obnoxious to you again. You are my best
friend, and I would really like to keep it
that way."

I looked down and said no more. I started getting nervous. I began to tremble again like what I had done was pointless. I lifted my head and the first thing I hear is, "you're forgiven."

A smile lit up my face and she hugged me. It was finally over. I had my best friend back, and I'm not planning on losing her again.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

Soccergoalie7 said...
Dec. 1, 2009 at 3:27 pm
This is a really nice story about friendship. A lot of my friends are shorter than I am, so I can really relate to it.
 
x__irawrmoose__x replied...
Dec. 1, 2009 at 4:55 pm
This was supposed to be more of a diary entry actually. But it kinda fit together, it was cool.
 
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