A Year of Winter

four

September 28th, 2012

I’d realized by the time Andrew and I were in our third year of middle school that I, inevitably, would remain always in his shadow.

It wasn’t even like he was trying to make it happen; no, it was almost as if a gravitational force just pulled me into it. Like some greater being wanted me to be a perpetual lapdog for my more popular best friend. But as time went on, I realized that it wasn’t that somebody upstairs just hated me. No, it was because Andrew and I had utterly different personalities.

From the day I was born, I’d been a quiet and non-confrontational kind of person. Andrew was the opposite. He was a natural born leader; always an extrovert. He was that guy who everyone liked for some reason, thought they didn’t know why. He was team captain of our school’s coveted and prized soccer team; the golden boy that everyone envied.

And yet, he was my best friend. It seemed rather ironic, really, that the shyest guy (me) in the school matched with the most outgoing (Andrew). And normally, I hated the fact that Andrew was so outgoing. But I suppose, in retrospect, “hate” wasn’t necessarily the right word for it. It was more like I hated the fact that Andrew was so outgoing, while I was not. It was like being trapped inside a cold, empty room with a single window, allowing yourself to see the world around you moving while you’re stuck still. And it was quite a bother.

Especially when you were literally watching Andrew succeed.

“Go, Andrew! You’re the best!”

On a brisk Friday afternoon, less than an hour after school ended, I’d usually be sitting at home in my room. And looking back on that, it seemed quite favorable. Besides, it wasn’t a teenager’s normal ideal after school activity, especially on a Friday, but it sufficed for me at least.

But, oh no; not today. Today, I was stuck and Huntington Fields, watching Andrew and his soccer team run sweatily up and down a field, chasing a ball that could not be caught by anyone but him.

And despite how Andrew was my best friend, the real fact of the matter was I detested going to his soccer practices. I usually skipped them and went to his actual games, but today was different, since Noelle had asked me to accompany her. She usually went to his practices with one of her best girlfriends, Aubrey Fairview. But unfortunately for her, the girl had gotten mono from one of Andrew’s other soccer chums.

Therefore, I was stuck as her replacement.

Now, normally, I would have adored having any chance to hang out with Noelle. But when she was cheering and clapping and jumping up and down for Andrew, who was scoring goals every which way without even breaking a sweat, it was more of a chore than something enjoyable.

I tiredly rolled my eyes, watching as Andrew scored another practice goal. He immediately ran down the field, shot like a bullet, high fiving his soccer mates along the way for another go at the game. I yawned.

“Yay, Andrew,” I said monotonically, pumping a less than enthusiastic fist in the air for encouragement. “Huzzah.”

Noelle immediately looked at me skeptically, an eyebrow arched. She chuckled softly under her breath, a breath of wind blowing her hair backwards. “What’s wrong, Henry?”

Leaning back against the bleachers, I gazed at Andrew, who was running across the field faster than anyone else. I didn’t understand it. He ran faster than a fucking horse.

“No,” I lied dryly, shaking my head very slowly. “No problem at all.”

“You look…” Noelle paused, hoping the right word would come to mind. She leaned back against the bleachers to accompany me, smiling, “…glum.”