The Story of Us

Prologue

                I was about to knock when the door swung open, revealing my best friend, Liam Sheppard.

                He’d been my sort of “other half” throughout my whole entire childhood. We’d practically spent all of our time together since birth because our parents were such good friends. No, we were not romantically involved. On some days I had always wondered if we would, but had always decided that there was no hope of that. We were just very good friends, with our own crushes and own lives and friends.

                His striking face—and all right, I admit my best friend is handsome—broke out into a grin, his blue eyes as vast and deep as the ocean.

                “Kee!” he greeted, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and towing me inside. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

                “Well, duh, I come every day at three o’clock. Did you expect me to disappear or fall off a cliff or something?” I said, raising my eyebrow.

                “Right, right, right!” he said, and I could tell he was trying hard to be cheerful.

                I narrowed my eyes sat him. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Liam?”
                “No.” he answered defensively. He unwrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Why?”

                “You are such a bad lier. Go on. Spit it out.” I said.

                “LIAM! Mom wants you to finish packing up your stuff!” Liam’s little sister, Ariadne, screamed at him.

                I turned to Liam. “What does she mean to pack up your stuff?”

                My friend shifted uncomfortably and finally sighed, running a hand through his short brown hair. He took me by the shoulders again and pulled me to the side. Bending slightly done to my level, he sighed again, his breath intermixing with mine. “Kee…I’m, uh…”
                “Moving away?” I said.

                He looked up, frowning. “How’d you know?”

                I raised my eyebrow. “I’m not an idiot, Liam. I saw the big white van outside. I heard Ariadne.”

                “And you’re not upset?” Liam asked, looking hurt.

                I looked away. “Of course I’m upset, Liam. I-I’m just good at hiding my emotions. So…when…are you moving…?”

                “This Saturday.” Liam confirmed with me, pulling me into a hug. He whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry. But my Dad got this great job offer that he couldn’t pass up in Florida.”

                I suddenly pulled away, my eyes widening. “You’re going to be moving from Utah to Florida? That’s…so far away…”

                “I know, and I’m sorry. But there’s nothing I can do. My Dad has to support our family, and his old job just wasn’t doing it.”

                I didn’t know what to say. I felt anger. Hurt. But most of all, I felt betrayal. I nodded. “All right. I-I’ll see you soon, okay?”

                “Wait, Kee!” Liam said, grabbing my hand. “Are you okay?”

                “I’m fine.” I sighed. How many times did I have to say good-bye? First there was my father. Then my first best friend other than Liam who’d moved away to Australia. Then my Grandma, who’d I had always turned to for help and advice on anything. And now there was Liam. I freed my hand from Liam’s and made my way to his door, opening it. He didn’t try and stop me. I suddenly stopped as I had one foot out the door, and turned back to him. “Are you ever going to come back?”

                Liam looked up at me, and then glanced away. “My father signed a contract. Three years in Florida, and then he can come back here and work at his new job’s office here.”

                “Why does he have to stay in Florida?” I said quietly, when really my mind was elsewhere. Two years? Liam was going to be gone for three years?

                “The…the people who hired him needed more help back at the office in Florida. My Dad’s going to work for some big huge movie company.”

                “Oh. All right. Good to know.” I said flatly, turning away. Liam was beginning to say something, but I cut him off by slamming the door shut and storming back into my house.

                That was the last time I ever really talked to my best friend. I guess I cut off all ties with him because I thought that would make saying good bye a lot less more difficult. But it still was. And I was a coward. When Saturday came and Liam came knocking on our door to say farewell, I didn’t leave my locked bedroom. I was afraid of facing him. Of telling him good-bye and not seeing his smiling face for the next three years. Eventually after a couple minutes Liam left, and I finally realized I was wrong. That this may be the only time to tell my friend that I would always miss him and love him in that way only friends can.

                But I had missed my window of oppurtunity. When I had ran outside, the white truck was already moving away. And with it, my best friend.

                I had been in eighth grade then. Still young and very, very stupid. I buried my face in books and schoolwork, refusing to make any more friends. I was too scared of losing people, so eventually I stopped talking to them.

            Weeks turned into months—I finally erased Liam about my mind. Just like I had erased my father’s gruesome death.