“Can you believe we have to sit here and listen for hours?! I just want to play my piece and leave!”
“I know, right? It’s not like we’re gonna be the next famous musician or anything! I mean, you might, but I’m just here because my parents wanted me to learn an instrument.”
“You too? Ugh, parents are the worst!”
“CAN YOU TWO QUIET DOWN?”
That’s how our friendship began, being bored little twerps complaining about anything and everything, basically being typical kids.
Over time, our friendship blossomed. Having the exact same schedule in our junior year helped, leading to conversations walking from class to class, nights spent “working on homework,” which were more rants about how pointless it all was, the latest “Omg, did you hear about Annie and Chris,” and eventually, quiet talks about our hopes and dreams. I didn’t think much beyond graduating and going to college, but she wanted so much more.
She’d always been into the arts, specifically singing and dance. It wasn’t just something she did, but more of something that she was. I could hear the music in her voice, the brightness when she ran up, yapping about a drama or TV show that she was watching or the warmth and pride when she talked about how training her dog was going. Even movement came naturally to her, somehow making every step between classes an elaborate dance starring her as she flowed through the crowds, seemingly unhindered by the masses of people, moving to a tune that nobody else could hear.
It felt like she was meant to be more, that her dreams and talents were just waiting for the right time.
One night, as we were settling in for a night of studying, I could tell there was something on her mind. She was distracted, fidgeting, her responses dismissive.
“Hey…I have something I wanted to tell you… I’m dropping out of school.”
“Very funny, now remind me again what equation I needed to solve this?”
“I’m serious. I was scouted a few weeks ago at a competition and we just finalized all the details. I’m leaving in two weeks for training.”
“Wait, but what about school? What about graduation?”
“They’re going to hire a tutor for me and have me get my G.E.D, but they say I have real talent, that I’m really going to shake up the music scene.”
I couldn’t stay there any longer. This wasn’t how I saw any of this going. We had just talked about graduation last week, about what colleges we were going to apply for, what we wanted to do with the rest of our lives.
“I…I need to go. Congrats or whatever, I’m happy for you.”
I walked away. I could hear her calling for me, the music in her voice confused and lost, like a suspended chord that was waiting for a resolution that wasn’t coming.
She called. She texted. I sulked and cried. It was wrong of me, but my entire world had been turned upside down. I should’ve been better. I’m only human.
Days turned into weeks into months. Senior prom, tests, college applications, all came and went, yet the only thing that brought a spark into my life again was overhearing what she was up to. I tried not to care, to dwell on the hurt and betrayal, but I knew I was in the wrong. My pride, my stubborn pride, got in the way, keeping me from reaching out and apologizing.
So, I wrote. Everything I was thinking and feeling: the guilt, how I ruined everything, how I wish I was a better friend to her. Everything that I should’ve said, but couldn’t.
Then, it finally came. Graduation day, the first step to the rest of my life, what was supposed to be the beginning of our adventures. Hugs, tears, promises of “we’ll keep in touch” that we all knew wouldn’t be kept, but said anyways in the hopes that it’d be the exception rather than the norm.
That’s when I heard it. Through the cacophony of well wishes and excited chatter came a familiar, musical laugh. I pushed through the crowd, making distracted apologies to annoyed classmates taking photos, trying to find the source, not daring to believe, but hoping beyond all reason that it wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.
That’s when I saw her, laughing at something that my sister had said, like nothing had changed since we last saw each other. My mind went blank, emotions oscillating between fear, regret, and guilt to joy and relief. I slowed to a walk, unsure of what was to come.
My voice, rough with barely suppressed tears, rasped out.
“You’re really here?”
“You think I’d miss this for the world?”
“But…after everything I said? Everything I did? How could you forgive someone like that, forgive someone like me?”
“I was so angry with how everything turned out, but that didn’t stop some part of me from wishing we could be friends again. Then, your sister sent me a letter, explaining how much of a mess you were, and she included your letter. I knew I had to come see you, to try to make things right again.”
The tears I was holding back refused to be contained any longer, blurring my vision. She came closer, wiped away my tears, and smiled.
“Come on, it’s your big day! Stop crying so we can take some pictures and actually celebrate! Also, I’m sorry, but I didn’t have time to get you flowers or a graduation present.”
“You didn’t need to. You already gave me the best gift I could ever ask for: my best friend back.”
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