February 11, 2010
Dear Tarah,
Remember the time you were laughing so hard you fell off my bed and kept right on laughing? I joined you then. Mom peered in the room on the way to the office, saw us cracking up like four year olds hyped up on sugar, said that she didn’t want to ask, and closed the door behind her. Of course you do, because you remember a whole lot more of the memories before you moved than I do. I remember your last Fourth of July here, me with my Grandparents, you with your dad. I wasn’t allowed to go hang out with you because my grandparents were there; my parents told me that I could next year, but I somehow knew you wouldn’t be here the following year.
I remember spending the night at your house, getting so absorbed in a book and snapping at you, and the endless nights you spent over at mine. By the time you’d left, we’d already had the weeknight sleepovers down to a pat, despite the fact that your dad wouldn’t let you come over anymore. I remember you crashing once you climbed into your bed on the floor and you could just tell how safe you felt. I’d watch you sleep for a while before I went to sleep myself, wondering how someone as kind and as caring as you could have ended up with such a crappy home life.
My first memories of you were when you started to ride my bus in sixth grade. I was immediately drawn to you, but so was a close friend of mine. At first, you went to sit with her. However, that was one possible friendship I was not about to lose—even if I was competing with my best friend of three years. I started to talk to you, although scared and timid, and gradually I felt like I was winning the friend battle. I did win—as it turned out. I was the one you called when you were scared and the one you told the deepest secrets to that, to this day, I’m the only one, outside of family, that knows. I find out later that you probably had the most fun with your other friends but that was okay, because I knew the things they would and will never know. You called us soul sisters and I still believe that we are.
I talked to you for the first time in three years three or four months ago. You sent me your new number in an e-mail and I called you that very day. You were screaming my name and I was just grinning, happy to be reunited with you. You called your current boyfriend and screamed in his ear, while I just sat back and laughed, apologizing to him. I haven’t talked to you in a month now, due to your grounding, but I’ve left messages and reminded you how much my parents and I care.
I hope you’re okay, Tar. I know you’re strong and you’ll get through whatever is going on. Just remember, please, that I’m here if you need me.
Your best friend,
Kat
