Goth Problems # WattPride

One

When we were kids, it was different. We were different.

Aaron had always been thin and a bit sulky. His eyes never seemed all that bright and the way he spoke was drawn back and hesitant, as though he were terrified of being struck no matter what came from his mouth. Other kids didn't really think much of it; to them, he was just Aaron, the quiet guy with fluffy hair that was more into Halloween than our entire class combined.

I had always been average size and too nerdy for my own good, or at least that's how my sister put it. My hands always were busy doing something, whether it was holding a book or scribbling down notes on things that really didn't require notes. Like Aaron, I wasn't the loudest of the bunch, but I was confident where my friend was tactful. Sometimes I talked just to talk, while he only opened his mouth if he had something real to say. Other kids didn't pay much attention to me; to them, I was just Xavier, one of the many kids who were just sort of there.

We met by chance at the age of seven when Aaron first moved to town. Aaron was stand-offish at first, but he began warming up to me after I offered him a cookie and taught him how to feed our class' pet hamster, Astra, during snack time.

Elementary school was relatively easy for the two of us. Aaron was scared without me and I was just as uncomfortable without him. Our third grade year, while we were huddled during a blanket camp-out in my living room, we made an oath that we'd never split up. It'd always be Aaron and Xavier, never Aaron. Xavier. That wasn't how we worked. "I'd lose it if I ever just became Xavier," I admitted to Aaron while we held hands, enacting the oath. Aaron had suggested a blood covenant, but I said no. I wasn't sure what it was and I didn't like the sound of it.

"If I ever became Just Aaron, I'd probably say screw it and become a turtle."

There was little logic to that conversation, but we were ten. Cut us some much needed slack.

A year later, we were separated in class and I had a melt-down that my parents ignored. They said it was out of their control and I'd just have to deal with it.

"I hate school," Aaron had grumbled when we got on the playground during recess. I had him wrapped in a tight hug, grumbling about how much I missed my best friend in the whole wide world even though we'd just seen each other that morning. "Let's run away."

We got to the fence outlining the school before we were picked up by a supervisor.

I honestly thought our obvious attempt at sticking it to the man would have coaxed our parents into begging the school to let one of us switch classes, but nope. It had the exact opposite effect.

"I never thought Aaron would be such a bad influence for you," my mom had sighed, hands on her hips while she assessed me. I was on the couch, pouting, while Lizzie was enjoying my pain greatly on one of the arm chairs. She wanted to film it, but Dad told her that was immature and she was all about being a woman, not a child. "Xavier, maybe- just hear me out- you should try to find some other friends."

"Aaron isn't a bad influence. He doesn't tell me to drink or smoke," I pointed out. My ten-year-old mind was thinking back to the lessons we had during Red Ribbon Week where the teacher would explain what bad influences were and how we had to say no to everything they said. Not once did Aaron do or say any of the awful things my teachers had warned us about.

"But he said you guys should run away from school," Mom responded, waving her finger in my face. I was entirely confused. "Sweetheart, I would really appreciate it if you found other friends. You can still keep Aaron in your life, but maybe hold him at a bit of a distance for the time being?"