Best Friends For…Never?

Best Friends For…Never?

I never thought that Tamara and I would end up where we were. Tamara and I argued sometimes, but in all the years we’d been friends, we’d never had a huge nails-out, eye-scratching fight. But…I kind of wished we had that instead of the iceberg-tundra thing we had going on. And I didn’t know if we would ever thaw out.

I should’ve been mad at her for writing the heinous letter, but I wasn’t. I was still…in shock.

What had I done that made her write me that letter? How long had she had all these issues with me? The letter was not a random act. Everything it said had been seriously thought out.  Our friendship was over.  Or was it? After avoiding me for days, Tamara looked right at me, like she was totally open to my face-mail. My dad was right, she was throwing me a birthday bone.  Or not…it just was a momentary mirage in the desert of dissing.

I used to feel bad for David Shapiro, eating by himself every day…until I found out he wasn’t really eating alone. He had imaginary friends. Which, theoretically, was like six to ten more than I had.

Basically, I was stuck with Valerie- my counselor.  And her birthday “rap” –while well-intentioned- was about the nail in my bad birthday coffin.   Up until that moment, the rumors of my death wish had been greatly exaggerated.

I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t. I had just received another gift…of the monthly variety. And since Tamara was the keeper of the back-up pants, there was no way I was getting my hands on them.

Meilleur ami pour...jamais ?

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