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You Best Friend

The second week of Spanish we found out that Mrs. Kays carpet was soft enough to comfortably sit on. If any class deserved the pointless award it was this one. I didn’t really know who you were, but some of my other friends did so I decided to give it a go. Even though you didn’t know me, you still called me over to sit by you. I think it was because you figured we had a lot in common because we both lived by the statement “appearances can be deceiving.” You looked like the punk kid with your long bangs, black band t-shirts, and black high-top converse, but you didn’t act like it at all. You were smart and happy and as optimistic as I had ever seen anybody and you had the loudest laugh I’ve ever heard. I looked like the semi-normal kid with my various T-shirts from wherever was the cheapest place to shop and my beat up Reeboks. Everybody figured right away that I was happy and laid back, accept for you. Now I laugh because back then I wanted to kill you for being so perceptive and noticing how I was always pessimistic and the empty of my eyes. We already knew each other’s names so I prepared for the awkward conversation I always have taking to new people, but you skipped right by it and started telling me about your little sister and how everybody made fun of her for being smart. I laughed and told you about how my little sister got made fun of for having buck teeth being extremely tall for a fourth grader. You acted like that was the worst thing you ever heard and I decided to turn it into a game. I smiled and said, “Top that.” Instead of laughing like I expected, you raised your eyebrows at me and started telling me your life story.
I was amazed by how much had happened to you and even though I’d heard similar stories, yours was different. Everybody else who tried to tell me about their horrible life I could tell was lying, but I could tell with utmost certainty that you were telling the truth. When you finished the class had all returned to their seats and was staring at us with freaked-out curiosity. I blushed and headed back to my seat and received a few sidelong glances and I knew I’d be asked later why we were just hanging out under the desks. Fortunately the class had ended and I had taken off running down the stairs; eager to get to my iced lemon flavored Arizona tea in my locker for lunch. You ran after me and gave me a hug that caused me to jump about eight feet in the air. Spinning me around you said, “Now it’s your turn.”

Weeks pasts and eventually I got up to telling you my whole story and when I finished I looked up at you to find you crying. Shocked and guilty I asked you what you were crying for. You looked up at me and said, “That was the saddest thing I’d ever heard in my entire life.” Now, when you say something like that, it’s impossible for me not to laugh because I thought my life had been going pretty well. You looked up at me confused, but decided to laugh with me anyway. The bell rang signaling the schools end, but you stopped me at the door. You asked me to meet you at the park after school today so I could meet your other friends. I stammered a shocked yes and headed out the door after you. As we walked through the cigarette-littered ground, my head was spinning. In my neighborhood, there had never been anyone my in my grade and anyone my age were either pot smokers or pot sellers. Now I got to meet some kids who didn’t go to my school and weren’t pot smokers. Hopefully. It turns out they weren’t, but regular old weirdoes like us. When we got to the park, I froze. You rolled your eyes and pushed me forward and said, “Go on tell them your story.” I took a deep breath and for the second time in my life, told somebody who I’d been and who I was.

Now years past and cement grew between us, bringing us closer together. During prom when your boyfriend ditched you for the blond headed cheerleader, me and your friends helped you feel better by taking you to the Alley Cat to listen to your favorite band cover over your favorite Flyleaf song. When some naïve boy knocked over my drink in order to get my attention he had knocked it over on my book I’d been hand writing for two years. There you held me back from jumping across the table and choking him to death. I was there to hear you sing the Bass solo you had gotten even though you had only auditioned for it as a joke to show how easy it was to mimic the star boy in your choir class. You were there to hear me perform my violin solo that I’d gotten into so much; I’d knocked the microphone over and deafened the first three rows. I still have that picture of you, me and V at our first official concert, which was Flyleaf. We all had a differently styled Flyleaf t-shirt and were head banging and screaming along with Lacey Mosley. I remember the way we’d share secrets on your roof that we couldn’t even tell our own parents Now I realize that if I’d hadn’t have met you, I’d never would’ve been one of the lucky few to know truly what having a best friend means.





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ImWatchingYou said...
Jan. 19, 2010 at 9:31 am
This is amazing! I love it! I love Flyleaf too! Email me! gothvampiress@gmail .com
 
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