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One in a Million
Sierra is blonde. Sierra is beautiful. Sierra is tall. Sierra is funny. Sierra is perfect. Sierra is the girl every boy wants. And Sierra was my best friend.
Because of her superior status, you'd think that she were mean or uncaring. But that was what she wasn't.
Sierra and I had known each other since we were four and our dance classes joined together for costume day. My class didn't know about costume day, but Sierra's did.
She came in wearing a Belle costume (from Beauty in the Beast). Since I had no costume, I was paired with Sierra, who did. We got to have fun and just dance around. Who would have thought this would be the beginning of the best friendship ever?
Only a year later, I saw her again at kindergarten. I instantly recognized her and we became best friends. She joined my group of other friends, but this friendship would be the only one that mattered.
We also went to the same elementary school. We were in the same class. Of course, every boy was in love with her. And every girl wanted to talk to her. I remember the boys going up to her and touching her bouncy, curly and blonde hair. And on the first day of school, one boy told her he loved her.
This didn't stop. And the girls wanted to be her friend so badly. They'd take my seat in gym next to Sierra. And they'd surround her, not letting me in.
I'd convinced myself it was out of jealousy. Maybe it was. Maybe I just wasn't popular enough to be Sierra's friend. But no matter what, Sierra never left me hanging.
Then during recess, she showed how truly great she was. Two third-graders (whom I still despise today) were sitting on the big blue swings. These swings were sacred to everyone, because you just had a better time on them.
Being first-graders, we were nothing but dirt in third-grader eyes. But Sierra was just as good as a third-grader. So these two girls let Sierra on, gladly. But not me. Apparently I wasn't good enough for them.
So they offered the swing to Sierra, and told me to go away. But Sierra gave them an ultimatum: Let Carly and me on, or else neither of us will go on the swing.
They said no to me. So Sierra and I walked away. To this day, I still remember that, and I still despise those third-graders. I go to high school with one of them. Everyday when I see her on the bus, that day at recess comes back to me like a rush. But then I remember Sierra. And everything turns out fine.
Because of that incident, I've realized how good people can be. I've realized that only one in a million people are like Sierra. And I was lucky enough to find her. I was lucky enough to be her best friend. And I'll never forget it.