don't forget about me | ethan cutkosky

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Nine year old me ran from my front door, calling goodbye to my mom and dad and ran towards the tree at the end of the street.

My best friend Ethan Cutkosky, who was also nine, was already sitting in our favourite tree.

"Hi Taryn!" Ethan smiled as he helped me up.

"Hey Ethan!" I giggled as I sat down. "What did you want to talk about?"

He started to look nervous.

"Promise you won't be mad?"

I nodded.

"I'm moving to California. My manager got me a part on a tv show and it's filmed there. I'm leaving next week."

I felt a slight pain in my chest and I held onto the tree, scared that I was going to fall.

I'm losing my best friend. Sure, I have other friends but Ethan is my best best friend.

"I still like you a lot you know.." I sighed.

"I like you a lot too. Like, a lot a lot." Ethan blushed. "Can we be each other's first kiss?"

I nodded eagerly and our heads moved closer to each other's and before I knew it, our lips were touching.

We pulled apart after a few seconds and giggled. We made no eye contact after that for a few minutes.

"Ethan, promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Promise you won't forget about me."

"I won't. I promise. Pinky promise."

Our nine year old pinkie fingers joined together and we both smiled, thinking we'd be friends forever.

_____________

I smiled as I remembered my first kiss with Ethan. So sweet, so innocent.

At the time, that was the most surreal thing I had ever done. Sure, I had kissed a few boys since then but none recently. I've been to a few parties, but nothing else.

Since Ethan moved away a few years ago, I haven't heard from him since. When Shameless hit the middle of season two, Ethan's personal Facebook was deleted. His phone number was changed and I never heard from him again.

He now has a "professional" Facebook page run by his parents, who I also can't get in contact with. Ethan has a twitter and an Instagram now and of course, I follow him. I've wanted to try direct messaging him but he gets thousands of those at a time and I would just get lost in the clusterfuck of fans wanting to get his attention.

So now, here he leaves me, on April 6th, 2014, waiting until the clock hits nine so I can see his face plastered on my television.

"Fuck sakes, don't tell me you're thinking about him again." My friend Brooke groaned, leaning her head on my shoulder.

"I can't help it!" I shouted. "I miss him."

Brooke looked up at me, giving me her signature "You cannot be serious, you stupid dipshit" look.

She got up and grabbed the empty popcorn bowl from the coffee table we were sitting in front of and padded off to the kitchen, pulling her sweatpants up in the process.

I got up and followed her, jumping and sitting on the counter and listened to her as she spoke.

"If you miss a boy you kissed when you were eight-"

"Nine, almost ten." I stopped her. "Continue."

She rolled her eyes, "As I was saying, if you miss a boy you kissed when you were almost ten, then try and contact him. Get his fanmail address, send him a letter, try and email his parents or something."