Friendship Starts
Still Waters Run Deep~Andrea~
I don’t know what it was, but after that day…I didn’t find Micky intimidating anymore.
Somehow…I found myself trusting him.
That Monday I looked up from my locker to see him standing beside me. He shot me that charming smile and I found myself smiling back. I don’t remember exactly what we said to each other, so I’m assuming it wasn’t that important. Then we walked the perimeter of the school together; just talking. Well, he did most of the talking, but I was perfectly fine with that. When the ten minute warning bell rang, he walked me to my class and that was that.
Every morning after that we held the same routine, talking before school, between classes, in the hallway. By the end of sophomore year I found myself thinking about what I was going to tell him next time we saw each other.
Friendship can be like that. Sneaking up on you while your mind is somewhere else. I hadn’t had a friend in a long time. Acquaintances, people I talked to when it was necessary…sure. To me, Micky was probably one of the best things I hold in my high school memories. And he’s someone I will always be grateful to.
~Micky~
For something I had to work so hard for, our friendship was simple. At first, it was just curiosity. A challenge. She was different, so I wanted to know her. But, suddenly, she became something more than that. She became more than the shy girl who liked to hide behind a book. The longer I knew her, the more I wanted to know her. There was always something there that she wouldn’t let me see. Something I just couldn’t reach. Something everyone else overlooked.
Sophomore year, our friendship started. As simple as that. We talked about everything in those minutes before and between classes. Schoolwork. Thoughts we wouldn’t tell anyone else. Sometimes just stupid stuff, like betting how many steps the girl in front of us would take before she slipped on the high heel of her shoe. When Andrea was more comfortable around me, she started to joke around and we’d argue over stupid stuff. What’s the best way to keep a piece of toast warm? Putting the warmest piece on the top or the bottom? When she was excited about a story she had to tell, she’d grab the sleeve of my sweatshirt or touch my arm. I don’t think she even noticed. But it amused me.
Underneath her shyness, her wariness, she was just genuine and passionate. Her feelings, her thoughts. Everything. When she got involved, she gave her whole heart.
One time, we were walking around the school and we passed this older girl. She was just standing in the hall. Crying. Andrea turned around and walked over to her. I was baffled but followed her. She put her hand on the girl’s arm and searched her eyes, asking her if she was okay.
“What’s wrong.” Andrea whispered, pulling her to the side of the hall.
“One of my friends…” The girl sniffled and wiped her eyes with her hands. “…tried to commit suicide in the bathroom.” Andrea glanced back at me. We had seen the teachers standing in front of the E hallway bathroom. She turned back to the girl.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to talk about it?” She asked softly. The other girl nodded.
“I’m going to talk to the guidance counselor.” She whispered. Andrea nodded.
“Okay.” The girl walked around her but Andrea stood there for a few minutes, a little dazed, before we kept walking.
“Do you even know her?” I asked. She nodded like she wasn’t really listening to me.
“Yeah. She’s in one of my classes.” I had never seen her talk to this girl. And, remember, I spent most of my freshman year watching her! I glanced at Andrea and realized her eyes were all shimmery. After that, she got really quiet and I watched as she got more and more upset. She didn’t even know who the girl in the bathroom was, and she was so close to tears. Frankly, it worried me…how upset she got. It’s like she curled up somewhere deep inside herself and I couldn’t reach her at all.
Later, Andrea was fine. The girl who tried to OD on over-the-counter drugs was fine. But I saw Andrea in a whole different light.
She hid for a reason. It took me so long to gain her trust…for a reason. Once she opened up, she was so defenseless. And I went to bed that night, thinking. Thinking that I would do whatever it took to make sure someone didn’t take advantage of her. To make sure that she didn’t get hurt like I was pretty sure she had gotten hurt before.
She was smart and she was pretty. People are jerks. They would use her then leave when they got what they wanted. The more I got to know her, the more I felt obligated to protect her.
Somewhere in between, I started to love her. Not the romantic, sappy love between a guy and girl. I just adored her. The way I adore my little brother in a way I’ll never tell him.
So I never told her.
When summer came that year, we still talked. Once or twice over the phone. More often, over instant messages. We didn’t meet up. We didn’t talk face to face. Still, late at night, we had a few deep conversations. Not that I remember what we talked about. Just that feeling of wanting to talk to her. Being able to tell her things I would never tell anyone else.
So summer passed, just like that. There wasn’t anything worth mentioning, just like the last half of sophomore year.
After all, my last two years with her were my favorite.
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