A collection of true stories about the first time I have met my closest friends.
I was six years old in your basement. My older sister was helping your older brother with a school project and I was forced to go with her. I pulled a pack of Twizzlers from my backpack and stuck the tip of one in my mouth. Out of nowhere, you ripped the licorice out of my mouth and stuffed it into yours.
I was seated on the mat for story time and felt someone’s hands buried in my wild frizzy hair. I quietly, but aggressively asked you to stop. Still, to this day you don’t.
I walked into my last period PE class on the first day of high school. You run up to me, already in our gym uniform and yelled, “I LOVE THE BAND ON YOUR SHIRT!”
I knew you and my close friend liked each other. I saw you in the halls and said, “Are you the one who is dating my best friend?” You held out a snack to me and said, “Yeah, I am. Wanna trade me a bus ticket for this granola bar?”
I didn’t know you at all, but I had a dream we kissed at the Valentine’s Day dance and decided to tell you all about it the next day.
—By Brianna C., 15, Toronto