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More Than Friends? MAG
I remember quite some time ago when someone told me that a girl and a guy could never be close friends without eventually getting involved in a "more than friends" relationship. I thought this was ridiculous until a recent autumn night. My friend was throwing a sweet sixteen party. It was to be held at a spacious clubhouse she rented for the occasion. Everyone in school was chatting about it. We all couldn't wait for the evening's event.
I went over to help her prepare before the party began. As I was carrying some cans of soda in from her mom's car, I noticed something very peculiar. Wedged inbetween a crack in the cement walkway, I spotted an unusually small pine cone. I slowly reached down and picked up the tiny brown object. For superstitious reasons, I placed the pine cone in my pocket, hoping maybe it would bring me some luck. Good or bad luck, I wasn't sure.
It was quickly approaching 7: 30. I volunteered to greet the countless number of guests at the door. Familiar couples holding hands, and groups of friends slowly floated into the clubhouse like schools of fish. Everyone was ready to have a good time. I couldn't wait to go inside!
There was a sudden dry spot in the flow of partygoers, so I decided to make my entrance. I stood in the doorway and scanned the room like radar. The lights were dimmed, and the music was unbelievably loud. As I looked to the left, many of my friends were sitting and socializing at the deep, brown oak tables. I noticed the refreshment table was already surrounded by starving members of the soccer team. There was an orange couch with many girls and guys flirting and enjoying their company. So, I decided to join them.
About an hour or two had passed. I stopped dancing for a minute to rest. I spotted my friend, Tyler, sitting by himself on the orange couch. This was very rare for Tyler, since he was usually flocked by many fans of the female gender. I have always had a very abstract attraction to Tyler since freshman year. I kept it under the rug because of the natural fear of rejection. So we became close friends, which I didn't mind one bit.
I wondered what was wrong with Tyler. His big amber eyes gazed into space. His deep, golden hair was styled like Johnny Depp's minus the hair goop. It was shaved all around, long on top, and tossled in a whimsical design. He was wearing a blue and white V-neck sweater, and worn-out blue jeans. I've always admired his easygoing style and carefree attitude.
I approached him from behind, playfully punched him on the shoulder, and plopped myself next to him.
"Hi, Tyler!" I said cheerfully. "How ya doin'?"
"I'm O.K.," he said. "I'm just thinkin' about some stuff, that's all, kid."
We continued to talk in the midst of a jungle. The people seemed to be screeching and rambling by us like animals. As I was commenting on how good a dancer my ex-boyfriend is, I felt his intense eyes make contact with my face. I felt like a specimen under close observation.
"You still like him, huh," he said with disappointment.
"No, he just dances well. Why do you ask?"
"You know, I've liked you for the longest time, but I never had the chance to tell you because you were always so wrapped up with him."
At first I barely heard him, but then it connected.
"NO WAY!" I screamed. Then I tumbled off the orange couch and onto the soft rug. He must have thought I was a total spaz! In less than a minute, a million thoughts darted through my head, like a typewriter that types eternally. Was he serious?
"I'm serious, really," he said sincerely.
This was so bizarre. This boy, whom I'd had a secret crush on for two years, decides to spill his feelings out to me! Why here? Why now? What next?
"Wanna go for a walk? It's loud in here."
"Sure," I said, still in awe. We carefully weaved through the crowded room and entered the crisp night air. I placed my hand on the thin, black railing, but quickly let go when its sharp coldness cut through me. I was shivering uncontrollably, but I wasn't sure if it was because of the air or my nerves. I looked down at the walkway and thought of my lucky charm. Was Tyler the luck it brought me? We approached the parking lot and headed toward his car.
We stopped and leaned on the rear bumper of his car. The night was so clear. The stars looked like diamond chips on a piece of black velvet, and the moon was a single pearl, shining brightly. We talked more, but he had to leave because he had a game the next morning. Before he left, he gave me a warm embrace and gently kissed me good-bye.
I knew we were still friends, but it would always be different from then on. When I thought of him, it warmed my heart and calmed my trembling in the cold air. The parking lot was silent. All that could be heard was the faint beat of the music back at the party. I stood alone, staring at the bright pearl in the sky. I slowly drifted back to the clubhouse and patted the pocket which held the tiny pine cone. I knew it brought good luck. n