Lesson 1
F.F. = Friends Forever
Mark and I are in the 4th grade. We are in art, and Mark beckons me to come over, were he sits is were all the popular kids sit. Look around to see if he is actually waving to me. " Come on, Lily!" he calls. Until this moment came along I thought that we were only "outside" of school friends, if you could call it that. Our brothers are friends, so they think it should be right that me and Mark be friends too. Often they try to get us to spend time together. But every time he comes over it seems that he wishes that I didn't act like myself, more like him or my brother, Sam. I don't know why Sam doesn't see that we don't click well, but he doesn't. I do though. He is popular. I'm not. He is liked by everyone. I'm not. So we are nothing like each other. And the people who hang out with Mark definitely don't hang out with me.
"Lil-ly," Mark calls again. He waves his hand again. I walk over to him, because who woulden't want to be seen with Mark Hooper!? He's smart, funny, very handsome, and of coarse extreamly popular! So everyone loves him, even the guys. Even the girls who say they don't like boys like him. And since all thr kids and teachers love him and adore him- all the boys want to be his friend and be just like him. And the girls want to be his girlfriend. As I approch him I see what he has made out of his peice of clay, a heart. He picks it up and hands it to me, " For you," he says. "Thank you," I said as he gives me a hug. "NO HUGGING!" yells the teacher from across the room. "Sor-ry!" Mark yells back.
After that we talk through art and then the bell rings for recess. We walk out together still talking. As we trudge along toward the field, our shoes sink into the mud. We keep walking 'till we are out far enough to be alone, even though we're in the open. "I have a secret," he tells me, grinning. He pulls a marker out of his jacket pocket. He pulls off the cap and there is a marker tip inside, he gives me the cap to hold in one hand. And he takes the other in his, turning my palm over I watch amazed. He carefully writes M.H. + L.M. = F.F. When he's done, he writes the same on his hand. "There," he says smiling. "Know what it means?"
