It was an odd day when Adam Faust was dressed in anything more than a pair of basketball shorts and a baseball sweatshirt. What made the day really peculiar, however, was when I noticed that nobody seemed to be giving him the time of day.
Adam Faust was everything. He was smart, and funny, and creative, and above all, he was special. He was one of those people you just knew would go on to do great things with their life and not give a damn who cared and who said what. He was always helpful and knew when to admit he was wrong. He was a scholar, an honors student, a potential Harvard alumni. He was my best friend.
Of course, putting emphasis on the was my best friend. We’d grown up together since we were in diapers, and until he’d realize how much people worshipped the ground he walked on, I was his best friend too.
Growing up next to each other, it was hard not to notice his transformation as puberty decided to be really good to him and made him six foot five. It wasn’t until he’d noticed how nice puberty was to him that he decided to take action and look even better than he already did. Time and money spent at the gym was how he decided to spend his evenings instead of playing board games and watching movies with me like we used to. Soon, we’d been reduced to nothing but a hi in the hallways until he finally said I just think we’ve drifted too far apart to be friends, that’s all.
It wasn’t as sad as it sounds, if it sounds sad at all. It’s not like we broke up or anything. Sure, having my best friend of sixteen years was hard, but he wasn’t my world, like he is to most girls at my school. I found comfort in other friends, dance, and yoga.
I’d like to say I had my world figured out by the time I was thirteen. I knew what I liked and didn’t like, I knew what type of people I wanted to be friends with and what type I wanted to stay away from. I basically accepted that I was never going to get what I want, who I want, and where I want, unless I did something about it. I knew the direction I wanted to go, and with what type of people. When Adam and I stopped being friends, I knew it was for a reason. I didn’t know that it was only going to happen if I didn’t do something to stop it.
Sometimes I tell myself what happened happened because he just wasn’t meant to be in my life for such a long time, but I can never tell the difference between fate and a lack of passion.
Adam is currently varsity basketball, baseball, and football captain. He organizes charity fundraisers once a month, gets straight A’s, and his girlfriend is Miranda Everhart. She’s not captain of the cheerleading team or a blonde bimbo. She’s Adam. But a girl version. The two will be together a year this Tuesday, which is also the first day of school.
Summer was too short. Going into my senior and final year of high school, I was just ready for my last last day of high school. People say high school is the best four years of your life, but I disagree. Unless you were at the top of the food chain like Adam and Miranda, high school is merely four years of homework, cliques, and moderate class skipping. Maybe I’m pessimistic, or even cynical as some people say, but I tend to put reality first. And the fact of the matter is, if you’re liked and admired by everyone, you were free to do what you wanted. If you weren’t, you’re labeled weird and annoying. Like yours truly.
But this isn’t about Adam, or the high school food chain, or my adventures of skipping class. This is about me and my senior year, with my two best friends Jessica and Evan, and probably some class skipping too. This isn’t about Adam. My name is Fiona Archer. I have everything figured out. I know what I want. And this year, I want a stress free, final year of high school.
