Again and again I walk into Language Arts I sit in that seat that we both sat in that first day, and I wonder what happened to our friendship, then I remember… I happened. I still remember that first day when I was waiting for someone to sit next to me. Then you sat down right in the chair on the left. That chair that now is empty. You’re afraid of me, and that’s something that I can’t bear think about. I just hope that by telling you the truth maybe one day you’ll dare to fill that empty chair next to me. Oh Emmi, I don’t know if I’ll ever meet anyone like you. I don’t think that I even really want to. I just want to see you smile at me again. Please read this thoroughly. I really hope that you’ll sit on that empty chair next to me. But you’ve got to understand first.

I guess I’ll start from the very beginning. On that very first day of our Junior year. I’ve been to 4 different schools and I haven’t really had any friends. I saw all those small huddles of friends looming in the halls. The girls were talking in hushed voices about various topics. The boys were all huddled around a big, strong boy who had a soccer ball that was signed by Lionel Messi. People ignored me and didn’t really pay attention to me as I walked to the lockers. I had my locker number memorized and it didn’t take me a long time to find it. I’m the kind of person who didn’t have anything better to memorize than their locker number. I was right next to one of the “popular” kids who had been surrounded by a swarm of girls admiring her makeup. She came and opened her locker briskly and quickly, grabbed a pad of makeup and an applying brush before giving me a look that made it clear that we were not going to be friends. Then she slammed her locker door shut and walked right back to her friends. She looked like a model walking down a runway and I couldn’t help staring for a split second before turning back to my locker. I got out everything I would need for Language Arts, shoved my backpack inside my locker and decided to be the first one in class.

I walked in and looked around, taking everything in. There were posters all over the walls, definitions of what was a good grade and what wasn’t, and examples of people’s stories. Of course you already know all this. After all, you have been going to Brooklyn High since 9th grade. I don’t know whether or not you had ever been in this classroom before, but either way… I’m telling you the story from my perspective. I guess I just want you to understand why I did what I did. I don’t know if that will ever happen, but maybe you could try. I went over and pretended to be super interested in viewing myself in the mirror on the wall. I pretended to be eyeing my lips and nose but really all I was thinking about was making friends. I’ve never had a friend before and I was thinking that maybe I could pick up a few friends in my Junior year.

I waited until about 5 people walked into the room until I took the seat at the table in the middle to the right. In our seat. Though it wasn’t our seat yet. I waited for someone to sit next to me. All the popular girls sat in either the back or the front. The boys mainly sat in the corners where their talking wouldn’t be TOO obvious.

The bell rang signaling for class to start and I was still sitting on my own. I was beginning to lose hope that I would find any friends at this new school, until the door opened for the last time. That was when you walked in. I was hopeful. Maybe you would sit next to me. Maybe I would finally have a friend. Or maybe you would sit next to Jancer. That would really have been devastating for me.

But no, you walked right in, plopped your backpack onto the ground. It was purple with a black peace-sign on it. You opened it up and pulled out a pencil. Suddenly you flipped around and extended your hand, “Hi, I’m Emmi, what’s your name?” The way you said that made my stomach start doing backflips. I finally felt like someone wanted to be my friend. Before I had watched people meet and become best friends. I’d spent my entire recess watching three girls link arms and try and walked synchronized. Now maybe I had a chance to do all that. But it all depended on what I said now. On how I reacted. In any other situation I would have turned right back around and faced the teacher.

But now I forced my lips into a smile and slipped my hand into yours, “I’m Aspen,” I said nervously. I was worried that the teacher would yell at me and that you would accuse me of getting you in trouble.

On the contrary you smiled even bigger, if that was possible, and said, “Oh, Aspen. That’s such a pretty name. It sounds like a superhero name. My name sounds like a 5 year old’s name,” you said, oblivious that the teacher was right there staring us down. I guess that I expected the teacher to say something rude and make us sit apart. And there would go my ONE chance at friendship. I stuttered, not being able to get any words out.

tI still remember that moment. About as clearly as one can remember. I was happy to be talking to someone, devastated that the teacher was going to ruin my only friendship. But those are only feelings. I don’t actually remember what everything looked like around us when we had that conversation. I never bothered looking away from you eyes. Your green eyes. They went so well with your fiery red hair. It seemed like you were perfect. You were wearing round golden hoops and torn jeans. Your face was covered in freckles. I remember thinking how pretty you were. How nice you seemed. How confident you were in the world. I miss all of that now that I don’t get to feel it. Now that I don’t deserve it anymore. I understand why you didn’t have any friends before me. But then I didn’t. You seemed like a privilege to talk to let alone befriend. You made me feel lucky. Anyways, back to that moment.

“No,” I said shaking my head happily yet nervously, “Your name is-” but I was cut off by the teacher. I could see that you didn’t mind this. You expected me to finish. I felt so bad. You kept on looking at me but I just whirled around to face front. You poked me and I ignored you. As for what the teacher said… same old speech teachers give every time someone is loud and they’re not supposed to be. You might waited until about 5 people walked into the room until I took the seat at the table in the middle to the right. In our seat. Though it wasn’t our seat yet. I waited for someone to sit next to me. All the popular girls sat in either the back or the front. The boys mainly sat in the corners where their talking wouldn’t be TOO obvious. That left all the nerdy girls in the middle. A brunette with huge glasses and a face full of acne sat with her friend at the table next to me. Her friend had really blonde hair and a gloomy look on her face. Now I know that they were Lou and Arie. But back then they were just the two girls who seemed to know the answers to everything. Class didn’t even need to start. I could just see them talking over what new molecules had been discovered and what their theories are on proving that there were infinitely many prime numbers. The bell rang signaling for class to start and I was still sitting on my own. I was beginning to lose hope that I would find any friends at this new school, until the door opened for the last time. That was when you walked in. I was hopeful. Maybe you would sit next to me. Maybe I would finally have a friend. Or maybe you would sit next to Jancer. That would really have been devastating for me.

But no, you walked right in, plopped your backpack onto the ground. It was purple with a black peace-sign on it. You opened it up and pulled out a pencil. Suddenly you flipped around and extended your hand, “Hi, I’m Emmi, what’s your name?” The way you said that made my stomach start doing backflips. I finally felt like someone wanted to be my friend. Before I had watched people meet and become best friends. I’d spent my entire recess watching three girls link arms and try and walked synchronized. Now maybe I had a chance to do all that. But it all depended on what I said now. On how I reacted. In any other situation I would have turned right back around and faced the teacher.

But now I forced my lips into a smile and slipped my hand into yours, “I’m Aspen,” I said nervously. I was worried that the teacher would yell at me and that you would accuse me of getting you in trouble.

On the contrary you smiled even bigger, if that was possible, and said, “Oh, Aspen. That’s such a pretty name. It sounds like a superhero name. My name sounds like a 5 year old’s name,” you said, oblivious that the teacher was right there staring us down. I guess that I expected the teacher to say something rude and make us sit apart. And there would go my ONE chance at friendship. I stuttered, not being able to get any words out.

I still remember that moment. About as clearly as one can remember. I was happy to be talking to someone, devastated that the teacher was going to ruin my only friendship. But those are only feelings. I don’t actually remember what everything looked like around us when we had that conversation. I never bothered looking away from you eyes. Your green eyes. They went so well with your fiery red hair. It seemed like you were perfect. You were wearing round golden hoops and torn jeans. Your face was covered in freckles. I remember thinking how pretty you were. How nice you seemed. How confident you were in the world. I miss all of that now that I don’t get to feel it. Now that I don’t deserve it anymore. I understand why you didn’t have any friends before me. But then I didn’t. You seemed like a privilege to talk to let alone befriend. You made me feel lucky. Anyways, back to that moment.

“No,” I said shaking my head happily yet nervously, “Your name is-” but I was cut off by the teacher. I could see that you didn’t mind this. You expected me to finish. I felt so bad. You kept on looking at me but I just whirled around to face front. You poked me and I ignored you. You might have noticed that I looked a little shocked. That wasn’t because I thought she was harsh or anything, but well… let me explain. All my other schools had been girl-only boarding schools. The teachers there could be pretty darn harsh when they wanted to be. So the harshness wasn’t the problem. I knew that it was going to be like that. But not ever in my whole life have I been called out for misbehaving by the teacher. No offense, but I had reason to guess that you weren’t quite as new to this as I was. You seemed like the girl who did well in every class, however not without being loud half the time. Sorry if I offended you.

When the bell rang the teacher (Mrs. Congh) was in the middle of a sentence. Nobody seemed to care that she was in the middle of explaining the difference between voice and style in your writing. People just got up and grabbed everything that was theirs and immediately started talking. A little rude if you ask me. I was just about to say something to you when I realized that you were already up and ready to go to your next class. However you didn’t leave. You just stood there, waiting for me to gather my stuff up. We walked toward the door together and you held the door for me. I don’t know if you thought it was that important when you put your foot in front of the door so that no fingers of mine were squashed in the small space. But no for me, well, nobody had ever shown be that much respect. Usually I was the last one out of the class because I had been lingering behind so that I could talk to that teacher. This time I was out kind of in-between, and even though it was obvious that you didn’t have many friends if any, I was now one of the kids that had a friend to walk to my next class with, a friend to hold my door, and maybe even a friend that I could lock arms with as we walked through the hall to gym or to lunch.

We were walking in silence, even though it wasn’t really silent considering all the people making an excessive amount of noise around us, until you said, “If you are planning on surviving high school here, then you are going to have to bring your whole backpack to class. Otherwise TRUST me, there is NO way that you are going to get to ANY of your classes on time. What class do you have next?” I remember you asking that, and I remember being happy that someone was talking to me. Even when I was sitting next to you in class I had my doubts that you actually wanted to be my friend, even after you actually talked to me, well, I have my own reasons to believe that you had no interest whatsoever in being my friend. Anyways.

“Oh, uh,” I muttered trying to check my schedule that I hadn’t had enough time to memorize, “Math… with, uh, Mr. Lasm,” I said nervously.

“COOL! Me too. Anyways, you are going to need your whole backpack, especially for math. Lasm asks for an insane amount of stuff. C’mon, let’s hurry.”