Walk With Me

9

I wasn't entirely sure how we became friends. But I suppose no one ever remembers how they befriended their closest companions. The furthest back I can remember is break in eighth grade. I was failing my classes and was sent to summer school. I didn't sit next to him. I didn't talk to him. In fact, I ignored his entire existence. But at break, I forget what the kids were playing, but neither of us wanted to be any part of it. He asked me if I wasn't a fan of that game.

"Not really," I replied. "I've never liked sports and stuff."

"Me neither." He sat down on the pavement. I plopped myself down next to him.

"What do you like, then?" I asked.

He grinned. "Comics. Avengers. Superheroes and romance novels."

I blinked. "Romance novels?"

"I don't know why," he said, "but I'm a particular fan of romance."

"Romance anything?"

"Yeah. Romance books and movies, mainly. Manhwas too. I'll play a dating game every now and then but they're not that fun."

"I like to read sometimes," I said. Lies.

"Oh yeah?" He leaned back onto his hands. "What's your favorite book?"

"Uh, the giving tree?"

"Ooh, yeah that's a good one." He smiled. "Mine is, 'To Kill a Mockingbird'."

"Never read it," I deadpanned.

"How have you never read it? It's a classic."

"What's it about?"

"I'm not good at explaining," he said, giving an anxious chuckle. "But mainly a man getting falsely accused and people believing the accusation because he's black. I find it relatable, in a way, because when I was younger I'd be blamed for a lot of things, and people believed the allegations because I wasn't white. It didn't help that I went to a mostly white school."

"You look white to me," I said, squinting.

Danny rolled his eyes. "We're in the shade. You know I have darker skin."

I smiled. "I know."

"Do you still play on the playground?" He asked, eyeing the swings.

I hesitated before saying quietly, "yeah."

"Same!" He stood and raced over to the playground, me following shortly after. "I call dibs on the right swing!" He called.

I narrowed my eyes. "Why the right swing?"

"Why not?"

"Touché." I sat down on the swing next to him.

"Do you read comics?" He asked.

I snorted. "What kind of question is that? Of course I read comics, who doesn't?"

"My buzzkill of a brother."

"Which one?"

He smiled, genuinely amused. "Sam. He's the eldest, says that comic books are for little kids and aren't considered actual books. But I don't read that many old fashioned comic books, mainly graphic novels."

"Which comics do you read?"

"For graphic novels, I usually read stand-alones. For the comic books, anything with superheroes, like the original Batman and Superman comics. I also read Calvin and Hobbes, and Garfield." He started to kick his legs. "Have you read any of those?"

"I read Garfield," I said. "What kind of graphic novels do you like?"

"Fantasy," he said matter-of-factly as if I were dumb for asking that question. "You?"