You were sitting on the bench in the playground, watching all of the other kids mess around, laughing with their friends. It was your first day of school and you still hadn’t made any friends yet. The teacher was nice to you, but no one else seemed to notice you.
You’d moved over from England at the start of fifth grade, and you missed all of the friends you had over there. No one really wanted to talk to the girl with the funny accent. Kids could be cruel, especially the ones who were oblivious.
A boy with messy blonde hair and a goofy smile runs over to you. “Hi!”
“Hi,” You say shyly.
“I’m Jordan,” He grins. “Where are all your friends?”
“I don’t have any,” You say quietly, looking forlornly at your uneaten sandwich. “No one wants to talk to me,”
“I want to talk to you,” He says brightly. “I’ll be your friend!”
The pair of you had stuck together ever since that first of fifth grade.
“Oi,” Jordan says, poking you in the ribs. “I’ve been talking to you for the last five minutes. Were you even listening?”
“No,” You mumble, feeling that all too familiar blush creep up on your cheeks. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
He shakes his head at you. “I was saying how my date last night went so well! I mean, she was just so cute and-” He stops when he realises that your head is bowed and you don’t want to listen. “You okay? What you thinking about?”
You shrug. “I was just remembering the day we met, that’s all,”
A warm smile washes over Jordan’s face. “You were sat all by yourself, weren’t you?”
“Yeah,” You smile. “And then this lanky weirdo runs over to me and tells me he wants to be my friend and hasn’t left me alone since,”
“Fine,” He huffs. “I’ll go away then,”
He gets up to leave, flouncing spectacularly. He starts running across the field that you always visit after school.
“No!” You laugh, beginning to run after him. “Come back!”
He turns and runs towards you, heading straight for you. You begin to run away, sprinting as best you can, but you’re no match for Jordan’s freakishly long limbs. Soon, his arms are around your waist, lifting you up and slinging you over his shoulders. A wave of butterflies rolls through you and you blush furiously. You pray that your brown hair hides the colour on your cheeks.
“Jordan!” You scream. “Put me down!”
“Never!” He shouts and begins to spin around, laughing manically.
As much as you want to be sick, you can’t deny just how much you love the feeling of his arms around you, holding you in place so you don’t hurt yourself. You’ve had a crush on Jordan ever since you were ten, and you’ve always kept it to yourself. The only person who knew about it was Tay. You’d sat by and watched for the best part of five years as he’d gone through girlfriend after girlfriend, being his hopelessly romantic self and they eventually dumped him. And who was always there to pick up the pieces? You, of course. That was the role of the best friend. After all, a small part of you knew that because you’d been friends for so long, being a couple would never work out. You loved seeing him happy, the light that always shone in his eyes when he talked about a new girl of his, but you wanted to be the one that made him that happy, not some other girl that would ditch him after a few weeks.
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