TheVeryHungryBookworm ISSUE#1

True Friends:

PRESENTED BY: JellyJam_s

Losing one of my best friends was the best day of my life.

She was suffocating, manipulative, and most of all, intoxicating. And I was glad that she ghosted me that day, I really was. And that day, I began to make true friends, friends that actually loved me for who I was, and I could gladly move on.

"What the hell? I am, God damn, you don't have to do that," I muttered, sitting up from the school's gym floor. My leg extended out in front of me, my scratchy P.E. shirt brushing against my left leg, tucked underneath my bottom.

I rubbed my back, where she had pushed me down further into a painful stretch that I was already doing. I gave her a nasty glare that she didn't acknowledge.

My other friends watched emotionless, busy doing their own stretches.

She smiled, but it was barely visible. I could tell she was embarrassed, uncaring, and unimpressed. "You're supposed to put your head all the way down. Your forehead should touch your thigh."

When she turned away to talk about swim team with a mutual friend of ours, I mentally rolled my eyes. Swim team that she constantly would shove in my face. Swim team that I obviously wasn't part of. Not because I couldn't swim, not because I wasn't fit enough to do it, but because I simply wasn't interested.

My other close friends stood up, preparing to do the next stretch.

One of them smiled at me, twisting her body to stretch out her back, "Let's do these stretches. They help with my posture."

"Yeah, easier ones would be nice," I laughed, following along with her and two others.

"What do you mean?" She smirked from the floor, where she clearly wasn't interested in completing our P.E. assignment. "These are easy stretches."

I rolled my eyes and secretly hoped that she saw, "These are easier." I tried staying as polite as I could.

I can admit it. I'm a pushover. Easily guilt-tripped and always the one to be gentle while the other person is screaming at me.

She stood up with our friend, walking over to the bleachers to solely sit down and not participate in activities. I wondered what happened. I wondered what happened to the girl I met last year who loved competing in the sports. Who loved making jokes. Who loved being kind. Who would defend me from other people's hateful comments.

But she wasn't the same anymore. She hung out with other people while we were in the midst of walking to class together, leaving me for them without so much as a "See you later." She shoves in my face that I don't have many after school activities, whatever joy that gives her I had no clue. She tells her other friends secrets and crushes that I had no idea whatsoever about when I thought she was my best friend.

But I wasn't going to take that anymore. I was going to be strong when the next time she struck. I was going to show that she couldn't affect me anymore, that she wasn't as powerful over my emotions as she thought.

So the next time she struck-

"Yes!" She yelled when my ball rolled over to her feet.

-I was going to strike back.

She hurled the rubber handball to the other side of the gym, and I smirked to myself when she seemed somewhat satisfied at making me run across the squeaky wooden floor for the ball.

I was a foot taller than her, with longer legs and a much larger lung capacity. But me being the nicest person I am, I never made fun of her for being short.

But here's my chance.

I ran as fast as I could to the ball, watching it bounce a few times before snatching it up. I Could tell she was watching, and I could tell that she was feeling ... indifferent.

She never felt anger when I did something to stand up to myself. A shrug and an "I don't care" was what she gave off.

And I knew that's what I would get, but I didn't care. I was so proud of myself for giving myself a sense of closure and a sense of achievement that I didn't mind what she thought. It was tiny. My achievement was tiny. It was so stupidly small and overlooked that I felt silly for even patting my back for it. But I was proud. Proud of myself for doing that tiny thing because I knew it was a huge step for me. And that was okay.

With this newfound feeling of confidence, I all of a sudden wanted to hurl the ball back at her, and then say "Sorry, my bad," if it hit her square in the face. But I was a good person, and as much as I wanted to get my revenge, I was a gentle person by nature.

And I continued on with the P.E. activity, not daring to give her a second glance. Because she didn't deserve more than two flips from me.

I'd like to say I ignored her for the rest of the day, but truth be told, she didn't even care to talk to me, like always. I often wonder why she was my friend in the first place. Why she even held the position of "My Best Friend" for as long as she did.

During lunch that day, I didn't sit where I usually did, with her and other swim team members who spoke about their competitions and didn't even let me in on what they were. "For the music, did you tell Coach what it was?" "They were at the competition and were trying to mess up our routine." "Wait, we were supposed to dress in them for the meet?"

It wasn't that I never asked them to elaborate, it's that they never did when I asked. But that was fine-

I caught a glimpse of brown hair that faded to a bright purple.

-I didn't need her anyway.

"Hey, Gweneth!" I shouted, my voice traveling towards the end of the hallway.

She turned around and smiled at me, waiting for me to catch up.

"Can I eat with you today?" I asked, knowing the answer already.

"Of course. I was going to the art room today for lunch. You can sit with us if you want."

If I knew the answer, why had I waited so long to sit with true friends? If I knew how great of friends I already had, why had I trapped myself with her? Why did I wait so long to be with them?

The answer was, I didn't know. I was in an emotional cage. One that didn't allow me to escape. Draped over my rusty metal cage was a blackout curtain that blinded me from outside kindness. And trapped inside of my cage, was her. She was there, looking helpless and lonely, just like me. So I befriended her. And little did I know, she had the key to the cage the entire time, and there was an opening in the curtains that allowed her to see others and she didn't tell me.

I thought we were in the same boat, but she secretly had a life raft.

We were stuck in a forest with no source of light, but she had her phone.

Looking back my awful state of mind when I was with her, and then back at where I have now lifted a huge weight off of me. One that I didn't know existed and could be removed.

Wherever life takes me...

"What the hell?" She laughed. "I am, God damn! You don't have to do that!"

I laughed with her, turning off my phone and watching the image I was showing her fade to black, "Isn't that funny?"

... I'll go through it with true friends.