How to Deal with Anxiety ☹ a.f.i. • a.u.

0: "You're either an idiot or a coward."

"I'll always be here for you."

That's a strong promise. It has been a promise that I've kept for six years as a matter of fact. I don't know how long "always" is exactly, but I'm determined to stay by her side until she decides that it has been that long.

Six years ago, I met her. She was the quiet, shy girl in the sixth grade. The one who hadn't gotten into makeup yet, who never raised her hand to answer a question, who just watched everyone. A wallflower.

I never remember having talked to her before that day. I was preoccupied with the usual juvenile activities of a 12-year-old boy, I suppose, the ones that I was certain were important, but in reality, really weren't long lasting.

I never realized I had so many friends when she had only one.

But that day, she didn't have any.

The boys had physical education after the girls did in our middle school, which meant the hall to the locker rooms was usually crowded. Girls were leaving, and boys were going. On that day, though, she wasn't leaving.

When I walked past a group of girls to get to the locker room to change, they were giggling, acting differently than usual. I didn't understand why until I walked past the girls' locker room.

Someone was crying.

I stopped, confused as to why the girls would leave someone who was upset. In my eyes, all the girls were friends in this weird clique. I guess I was wrong.

I couldn't go in there. It was the girls' locker room. Biting my lip, I glanced down the hall, no teachers or kids. They were already in the gym playing a game of dodgeball, tag, or whatever it was that day.

I was alone. The quiet sniffling continued.

I remember that my feet moved before I realized that I told them to. I had peeked around the corner to see what was wrong, ready to cover my eyes if something like...that was the problem.

She was sitting just out of sight of the doorway, her arms wrapped around her knees which were tucked close to her chest. Her glasses were a little fogged from the warm tears but she didn't seem to notice.

I hadn't ever seen a girl cry before and I didn't like it. I walked into the bathroom a bit farther, and then I sat down beside her.

She looked up then, and her glassy eyes grew big at the sight of a boy in the locker room. She flushed crimson and narrowed those eyes I would soon fall in love with.

"You can't be in here." She said, almost pretending that she hadn't been crying a few moments ago. The false anger was belittled by a small sob.

"I know, but I heard you crying," I explained, making sure she knew that I wasn't trying to be perverted or creepy, "What's wrong?"

She sighed and looked back down at her knees, pulling them even closer. Folding into herself.

"I lost a friend." She spoke in a small voice.

"How come?" I slowly knelt down to her level and sat against the cold tile wall, ready to listen.

"She told everyone something that she promised not to..." She trailed off like she didn't want to finish. Like finishing the rest would be like stepping on broken glass if it were spoken.

"You don't need someone in your life who doesn't keep promises." I shrugged, "That's a bad friend."

She looked up at me again, and a very small hint of a smile appeared on her lips for half a second.