it's friday again.
it's weird. i still feel like you're here with me.
i see your face in every crowd.
every empty seat you used to sit in. every empty spot you used to stand in.
the spot next to me is the one that bothers me the most.
it's like you're still right next to me, with your arm around me as you charge through the hallways with your signature grin and your opinions on books you read over the weekend or how your soccer game went.
i walked down the hallway today and for the first time since you died, somebody took your spot.
patrick.
he used to walk behind us and make suggestive comments while he called us "lovebirds".
today he stood where you stood, with a face like stone and a stride like lightning.
if there was a competition for world's best poker face, our very own patrick joaquin heinz would've won.
anytime somebody would talk to him, he'd other ignore them or answer in a dull voice with his dull eyes.
he's fading away, ethan.
vinny, nate, and dia walked behind us.
vincent alejandro ramirez junior. vinny. vinny's been less energetic since you left.
he's not as bouncy as he used to be. in fact, he got into a fight at a soccer game last week when some other kid insulted you and he had to sit out for the rest of the game.
vinny never gets into fights. he used to be the most peaceful, happy one out of all of us.
nathaniel zachary davis. nate's just been angrier than he usually is, though not as angry as patrick, who's like a volcano because at anytime now, he could snap and explode.
remember when we went to disneyland on our eighth grade field trip? we went to get food and that one young girl at the counter who was probably a high schooler, tried to flirt with him and he took it the wrong way?
"nate? you don't look like a nate," she said.
nate had glared at her. "why? is it because i'm black? were you expecting a name like ' deshawn ' or ' elijah ' or maybe something along the lines of ' keaton smith the third ' ?"
the girl was surprised and she looked really shocked. you, me, patrick, vinny, dia, and uriah (he used to hang out with us until the end of eighth grade, then he turned into one of the populars. a popular jerk.) were laughing so hard at everything.
the girl said "sorry, i-i didn't know you would be offended, i just thought you were...cute..." her face turned all red and she looked down.
so nate made up for his angry burst-out and said, "i know what i wanna order. chicken tenders, curly fries...and a side of you."
oh, nate. that was the day his playboy reputation was established.
you started calling him "nat-dog" and he absolutely loved it. that nickname was popular with the ladies, though i don't know why, i thought it was corny.
but then again, you and nate were pretty much the corniest of our gang.
dianna ryan castle. dia was like your sister. you and her were always such pros at dorking around, more than me and patrick. you and her claimed to be born out of the same womb and separated at birth.
at first i was so so jealous. this was the beginning of senior year when i started to like you.
i was jealous of dia and your relationship. you and her were so much closer and you told her everything. she told you everything.
i remember the time her three-year relationship with carlo santini ended because she didn't want to have sex with him.
he called her a slut and a loser and gave her a bruise on her left cheek.
he was a fucking jerk, we all knew, but dia never left him because she swore he was the one.
she just wasn't ready for sex yet, even though she was seventeen and people persuaded her it was an old enough age to lose her virginity.
you marched right up to carlo during lunch the very next day after she had called you, crying, and you broke his nose.
you got suspended for four days.
you really cared about her, enough to punch her ex-boyfriend in the nose.
i admired your bravery and envied how much you cared about her.
some days patrick and i would joke around about how you two should end up together, but all you guys said in response was "ew, we're like siblings!" and that was that.
i was jealous of dia, because she was so beautiful. caramel colored, wavy hair, swept over to one side with side bangs covering her opaque-shaped, diamond-like brown-green eyes. a button nose and tan skin, as a result of being half costa rican. athletic, petite, sweet, with a punk rock-ish style.
she was everything i wanted to be.
suddenly after i observed dia, i realized didn't want my stringy brown-black hair, my regular poop brown eyes, my stupid thin nose, and my ugly tanned skin. and i didn't want my ugly casual fashion sense either.
so i changed. i tried to be somebody i wasn't. for the next three weeks after that, i styled my hair, bought and wore new clothes, and tried being sweet like dia.
it was a disgusting mess.
no, i was a disgusting mess.
i wasn't sweet or quiet, i never have been and i never will be. i was sassy and spunky and loud and all around crazy. the new clothes i bought felt like a costume.
it just wasn't me.
everybody thought i got weirder. even the gang. and i remember you came up to me after school while i was waiting for my ride.
"why the sudden change, lynne?" you asked. my heart was hammering out of my chest by this time.
"i-" i couldn't lie to you. "-i just wanted to be like dia."
you laughed.
"why? you're your own person, lynne. don't try to be somebody you aren't."
"everybody loves her 'cause she's so perfect. i...i wanted to be perfect for a while."
there was a long silence between us until you spoke again.
"lynne."
"hm?"
"you're already perfect. so don't try changing."
i could've sworn by that time my heart was going to leap out of my throat.
i just stared at you, mouth a little open in surprise, brown eyes a little wide.
ethan daniel kang-yee, boy of my dreams, just called me perfect.
you stared right back at me with a kind smile, shaggy black hair falling in your face, your almond-shaped amber eyes twinkling with amusement.
i started to cry.
you pulled out a tissue from your pocket and handed it to me.
"lynne, stop crying!"
"why should i?"
"why are you even crying?
"because!"
"because what?"
i blew my nose.
"you're cheesy as fuck."
"so you're crying out of happiness?"
"yeah."
"then why aren't you smiling?"
i smiled.
you smiled.
and then you got up and left because your ride was there.
i'm not perfect, ethan. i never have been and i never will be.
but whenever i was with you, i always felt like i was.