“We’re just friends,” I said, trying to act annoyed. He and I had grown closer in the year since we met but he was dating my friend and even in seventh grade girl code matters. As time passed he and I grew more comfortable and I was always there to console him when she would hurt him, which was often. Middle school is weird. Anyway, later that school year she made him cut me off, which was understandable until she inevitably broke up with him. When I checked my phone on a soccer practice water break, I couldn’t help but smile when I saw his name pop up. We hadn’t talked in months and though he was upset, I knew it was for the best that they had broken up. She also broke off our friendship, one that I thought would last forever, but as we all know people change. That summer we began to FaceTime every night and even though there was no hint of anything romantic it was nice to have him to rely on. From the beginning, I knew that he was someone I needed in my life, in whatever way he could be there.
“We’re just friends…” I utter, failing to hide the hurt in my voice. It was the summer before High School and because of COVID, we hadn’t seen each other in months. Though we talked daily I was still unsure when he suggested we go to the mall together. The nervous excitement was bouncing off of me while my mom drove me to Victoria Gardens, playfully teasing me about going on my first date. This wasn’t a date, right? I tried to push any doubts out of my mind and focus on reality: I was seeing my best friend for the first time in forever and it was going to be fun. We walked and talked and ate and laughed. He was taller. Much taller. Had he always been this tall? He started to walk closer to me, our hands brushing as we walked past the crowds of high schoolers. For a moment I thought he may even kiss me, but the moment passed and after what felt like half an hour my mom was back to pick me up. I was buzzing with excitement and hope for the future. That night we talked and he apologized for flirting with me and said he was just confused and bored. I assured him that it was okay but my heart started to break, just slightly. I made myself accept that he would always be my friend. Just my friend.
“We’re just friends!” I blurted defensively, urging my cheeks to stop blushing.
I had uttered this statement countless times in the past four years, but it was growing more difficult to deny. Staring at the photo of me asleep on his shoulder after junior homecoming it was hard not to smile. He was my best friend, but a piece of me always yearned for more. Now, however, was not the time to reflect on the years of late-night calls, awkwardly cute (?) middle school flirting, and true companionship I had found with this boy. Now was the time to escape my friends so I could recount the night. Maybe I was just tired. Really tired. That has to be why I decided to sit so close to him and let my head rest on his shoulder. Not because of how close we got in the arcade before my best friend came over to tease us. Or how right it felt holding his hand leaving the dance floor in the gym. I attempt to wipe the smile off my face and get some sleep, having hope for more had only left me with pain and confusion in the past.
“We’re just friends,” I say, failing to hide the grin that is attempting to escape my mouth. How could I deny something that was so obviously untrue? After homecoming, we started to talk even more, if that was possible. He had been my closest friend for years but once I began to admit to myself that I wanted more, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. When we’d end our calls before bed, I would lay there smiling and picturing his warm smile and bright eyes. At school, if we weren’t together, I’d be texting him to complain about my assignments or fill him in on any gossip. Even when I was at my friend's house, I’d ask him what he was doing and hope he’d accept the offer to join us. This walk between friendship and flirting continued until the day he finally accepted the offer to come over and play video games with my friends and I. The whole night we were glued to each other, and though we had never kissed or even hugged, we could both tell that there was something different going on between us. At the end of the night when he walked me to my car in the rain, he finally kissed me. After that day we never looked back.
“We were best friends!” We now say whenever someone asks how we met. He is still my best friend but he is so much more. I would not have survived High School, or even middle school, without him by my side. Though there was pain, confusion, and miscommunication in the past it is for the best that we get together when we did. Our friendship survived broken friend groups, relationships with other people, distance, and petty fighting. There is no doubt in my mind that our relationship will survive much more, and I will forever be grateful that we were just friends until we weren’t.
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