This is dedicated to @Divergent_Fangirl04This is written just for her. This is written to show what a true friend is like.
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You pick pink flowers of the tree in your front yard. It's a cold, frosty morning. It's April, and, you are glad the flowers survived. You need them.
For your best friend.
No, not your best friend.
You sling your bag over your shoulder, and, follow your siblings to your bus stop.
You shutter against the cold, huddling your too small coat. But, you keep the delicate flower safe.
You have to, it's for her.
She's the only the one that knows you. Who can guess when you are down. Even if she can't see your face.
You live with eight other brothers, and, sisters, and, money is tight. You are the middle child, and, you would do anything to get attention.
You can sing, play flute, charm, debate, act, write, dance like the world isn't watching. But, you still don't have all of it. Your Senior brother has Prom this weekend. And, you have Conformation. One of the biggest moments in your life.
She'll be there. Hopefully.
But, your mother's attention is focused on your older brother.
You've given up on your mother, and, focus on her.
The cold bit your nose, and, you run to keep up with your siblings. As you run, pink petals float behind you, and, you try to keep the flower together. It's almost impossible.
The bus comes around the corner, noisy, and, smelly. And, five minutes late. Of course.
You run to catch it, and, jump onto the steps, before your bus driver could close the door.
You slump into the seat next to your sister. She raises an eyebrow, then, stared out of the window.
You sling your flute into the seat, next to you. You bag slips off your shoulders, and, you reach for your Kindle.
About a dozen petals fall onto the floor, speckling the dark floor with pink. You sit up, electronic in hand.
You continue to read your story, and, keep the flower in your lap.
You continually look down at the small pink, delicate object in your lap. You watch as it slowly loses its petals.
You look up. The bus was strolling into the school's parking lot. Kindle back into your bag, and, you grab your things. You are the first one out the door.
You guard the delicate flower with your hands, and, your wistful mind.
You enter the warm building, nodded at your Choir teacher, and, started your daily morning routine.
You follow the cemented walls to the common wood door. The only difference, it has BAND written in it, with sparkly dark letters.
You push the door open, and, nodded to your Band Teacher. He looks up from his computer, and, smiled. He quickly looked back at the glowing screen.
You traveled to the back, where your locker sat. Your sister's oboe case sat there, next to its binder. You quickly ripped open the locker, and, pushed in your flute. You shut it, hastily. Not wanting to waste time.
You pick the flower up from the floor, grimacing at all the pink parts it was leaving behind.
Still, you protect it.
You walk to a small room, that branches off from the Band Hall. A locker room.
You find your crush's locker, and, leave a small petal. Just a small token of Love.
You hurry out, and, give the Band Teacher a quick smile, and, left the wide hall.
It was almost time for her.
You look at the small flower. It was still okay. Not the best. But, who's the best?
She is.
Oh, and, you are not giving her the best flower.
You argue with yourself. Should you throw it away? Try again tomorrow? No, you know she'll love it, anyways.
You travel through the cemented prison, walking past offices, and, coming to a hallway. You turn, and, traveled down.
You wave at your English teacher. And, continued to Homeroom.
It was almost time to see her.
You breathe in, and, step into the room.
And, sing your daily opening, "Dassah!"
She turns around, and, you see her face lit up. You approached her, and, offered her the flower.
"Why didn't you put it in my locker? You know the combination."
You pause, letting the thought pass through your head. And, you remember why. But, you knew it wasn't a good excuse.
You wouldn't mind getting in trouble for her.
"I'll drop it in your locker, when I go back out, to my locker," you muster, quickly unpacking your bag. You grab the now empty bag, and, the flower.
You keep the flower safe.
You quickly pause by your locker, and, drop of your coat, and, your empty bag.
You turn to her locker.
Was it really this risky? You know people get in trouble for going into other people's lockers. But, it's her locker. This is her flower. She asked you do something, and, you must obey. She's your greatest friend.
You quickly pop open the locker, and, drop the flower in. You slam it shut, and, sighed.
That mission was over.
You turn back into the Class, just to see her retrieving your computer. You thank her, and, slid it in between your notebooks.
One of the small things she does for you, everyday. You wish there was a better way to thank her, than a puny flower.
You pack your bag, and, create small talk with her. Just hearing her voice makes you happy.
But, she's tired, and, you know. But, you still make her a little annoyed. She quickly tells you to be quiet, and, moves on.
Another little thing that she does, that you wish that you could thank with more than a puny flower.
The bell rings, and, you join her to go with Choir. But, you wait for her, while she waits for her crush. You walk down the hallway, as three people who rule the school.
Though, you know you aren't.
You walk with her, and, remember those people who will tease her, and, her crush. How'd you like to pound them until they bleed. How'd you like to make them run away, with their tails between their legs.
A small smile from her reminds you to stay calm. You can't beat anyone up.
You enter Choir, walking behind her. You give her a small smile, as you sit her stuff against the cabinet that was holding everybody's books. You walk to another cabinet that held Choir binders. She grabbed hers, and, you grabbed yours. You followed her to the hard chairs. Though she sits in the row behind you, three sits away, you still try to socialize.
You smile, and, laugh. You vaguely talk about people in the hallway, and, how you aren't afraid to keep anything away from her.
She does not deserve that.
She gets to know ever secret that you own.
You know, you have lost her trust, once. It was terrible. She forgave, and, moved in.
But, it always comes up. One of the most mess ups in your friendship.
It still hurts.
You hurt her, and, you know that.
You know you make everyday to make it up to her, and, that horrible day.
She has trust problems, and, you are aiming for her trust. And, when you have it, like a small child with chocolate, you will not let go.
Not even if the worse would happen to you.
You have her, and, that all that matters.
Choir ends, so, you bid your farewell, and, head to your Band Class.
You count the moments until you can see her again, in Fifth Period; History.
Forth Period ends late, and, you run down the hall, and, huff into History.
But, then, everything is okay.
She's there, giving you one her rare smiles.
You smile back, and, drop into the seat next to her.
Time to count all the moments between stolen laughs, and, glances. To lunch.
It's just a short ten minutes, but, it feels like a billion of years. You are fill of things you want to tell her.
You somehow make it to lunch.
You talk over food, and, suddenly realize how down she is.
A guy is tripping her off the edge, and, she was about to let go.
You try to cheer her up.
It's one of the small things that you thank her in.
She is on the verge of tears, pressing her forehead into her inner elbow, trying not to show anybody. But, you know. She needs you.
You wait until she's ready to look up, because, you know, she'll talk when she's ready.
She looks up.
"I want to die. This school is a prison."
The words hit you, not like a stone, or, a mountain of rocks.
Like a needle. That pushed through your blouse, and, into your chest.
Into your heart.
And, it sticks there.
If you lose her, who would replace her?
No one.
She is irreplaceable.
You respond with your reasoning.
"No! I need you! No can replace you!"
Someone interrupted me, because, they wanted my fork.
I tossed them the plastic device, glared at them, and, turned back to my greatest friend.
She is not my best friend.
No, not at all.
I love her to much for that.
I love her like she's my twin sister.
We can finish each other's sentences, guess each other's thoughts. Sing a random Broadway tune, and, the other one would join.
She is not your best friend.
Best is too simple.
Your friendship has too many layers of love, and, trust to be simple.
You have a friendship that you can't give up.
When you explained this to her, she almost in tears.
But, now, she was not in tears for a good reason.
"I am just done."
You disagree, and, prove your point.
You started a small Be More Chill song. She looked up, smiled meekly.
She corrected a wrong line, and, joined in. She graced through the song, helping you along.
In the end, you are both are giggling.
You feel accomplished. You haven't lost your greatest friend.
Well, not yet.
You know, one day, you are going to slip up, and, everything's going away.
But, you hang until youPeriod.Fifth Period continued, and, you took secret glances at her, sending a small smile. You remember the stack of notes that you passed in this class.
Today was a no note passing day. Not much to say. Every thing was done by Lunch.
The bell rang, and, you followed her into the hallways.
You talked to her, and, walked to your Sixth Period. You arrive too soon.
But, this spot in the hallway holds a close memory.
The moment you broke into Hamilton, in the middle of the hallway. At the top of your lungs. And, added a Thespian flair.
She is not a normal person. She did not tell you to stop. She didn't laugh at you.
She laughed with you.
Everybody pointed, and, whispered.
She did not cared. She laughed, then, pushed me into Sixth Period, as she strode off the her Torture.
Her bullies are in her Sixth Period. After class, you run to grab your flute, and, meet her.
She uses you to rant on.
You don't mind. You love the attention.
Both of you are from huge families, and, both understand the importance of attention.
Today, you promised to meet your crush in the locker room, so, you can walk to the buses, together.
In Fifth Period, you write a note, explaining how you can't meet up. You know your greatest friend needs you this afternoon.
Your crush won't mind.
And, if they do, they need to get lost.
Family before crushes.
She explained this to you, after she ditched her guy, so, she can hang out with you. Lately, you've tried to do the same.
The final bell rings, and, you rush into the slightly warmer air.
You, and, her talk, and, laugh, as you walk into the parking lot. Soon, it was time to part.
Instead of a hug, or, a wave goodbye.
You do a handshake.
Not like a quick high five, and, a wave.
No, more like:
High five
Down five
Foot five
Michael, and, Jeremy's handshake.
She is your Michael.
You smiled. She smiles.
You are proud you can do it in front of all of these people, and, not care. Right now, she's the focus of everything in your life.
She is the flower that you painstaking saved for her.
She's delicate, and, any sudden moments will hurt her. She might get some weird stares.
But, she's beautiful in her own way.
And, you love her the way she is.
You jump into the empty bus seat, much happier than you were this morning.
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1990 Words, Origanally Published: April 20th, 2018
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Short Story Collection
RandomThis is the ever-growing collection of short stories that I have written. Some of these were prompts I entered for competitions, ideas that inspired me to write, and, even experiences I've had with some amazing people! Last Updated: April 27th, 2020