Pinky Promise

I collapsed on my bed, great, heaving sobs emitting from my throat. I was there for what felt like hours, bawling my eyes out, upset that I had lost my best friend, my partner in crime, the guy who had been there for me since we’d been born, for gawsh sakes.

I sat up after awhile and rubbed my eyes. It had only been half an hour since Luke left. I almost burst into tears again, until what I just thought about clicked into my head.

Luke left.

Luke left.

He left.

I didn’t.

This was his choice. I did nothing to cause this. Luke left of his own volition, choosing his girlfriend over his best friend.

As hard as it was to tell myself this, I knew that if Luke was going to leave me like this, then he wasn’t really a very good friend anymore.

“Hal! Luke! I’m home! What kind of pizza do you guys want?”

Shit. My mother was home, and she expected Luke to be here, as he always was. She was ready for him to yell down the most disgusting concoction he could think of ("Anchovies with rotten eel and cockroach guts!") until we order Meat Lovers Pizza, like was always did.

“Luke? Hal?” My mother said, knocking on my bedroom door before entering. She looked around, seeing everything in place, seeing everything…except Luke. “Where’s Luke, honey? Is he in the bathroom?” She then took a closer at me. “Hallie? What’s wrong?” she said, noting the tear tracks stained onto my cheeks.

I took a deep, shaky breath. There was no way I could hide this from my mother. She was like my girl best friend – she was just older and wore embarrassing clothing. “Luke isn’t here, mom,” I started.

“Where is he? Is everything okay? Is he-“ I held up my handing, begging for her to be silent, which she understood and was immediately quiet.

“He’s with Bailee,” I spoke, before my mother interrupted again.

“Bailee? But…it’s Friday! Doesn’t Bailee know that Friday is your guy’s movie night? It’s been your movie night ever since you guys were what, five?” My mother said incredulously. “If I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again: that girl has got that boy whipped,” she said angrily.

“Mom, please…” I said, knowing that this was hard enough as it was. My mother was definitely not helping, and she didn’t even know the whole story yet. I decided to get it over with as quick as possible. “He chose her, mom.” I said, my throat closing up.

“What do you mean, Hal?”

“Exactly what I said. She got jealous, and she gave him an ultimatum. Her or me. He chose her,” I rushed out before I started to cry again.

“Oh, honey!” My mom exclaimed, pulling me onto her lap like I was five. She does this a lot, resulting in me getting annoyed, but this time I didn’t mind. I buried my head into my mother’s shoulder as I blubbered pathetically.

“How could he do this, mom?” I wailed, reaching towards my night stand for tissues. My mom handed me one and grabbed another to wipe my eyes while I blew my nose. “How can he choose her over me? I’ve known him practically since birth! We live next door to each other!” I choked down another sob as I continued. “Most of all, how can he plan on avoiding me when we are practically joined at the hip? I have classes with him, mom! We ride the same bus; we have the same friends…” I trailed off, tears slipping off the bridge of my nose as my tears started to our out from beneath my eyelids again. “I don’t think I can face him. Not after what he did. I just…I can’t,” I finished defiantly.

“What do you want us to do, move?” My mom teased. She saw the look of hope that flashed into my eyes. “Just kidding, Hal. Sorry. I’m probably not helping. “I know it hurts so badly right now, honey, but the only thing you can do for now is to just avoid him, and hope that he realizes that he misses you and can’t live without being your friend, and that he made a mistake.” She wiped my eyes again with another tissue and smiled. “Now, I know I’m not the best replacement, but how about we order the pizza, get a bunch of junk food that will ultimately kill our systems and watch some movies?”

I nodded and hugged my mom, who hugged my back tightly and kissed the top of my forehead.

“I’m going to run to the store,” she said. She backed out of my room, pulling the door shut behind her and left me by myself, the feeling of loneliness multiplying.

I had no idea how I was going to deal with this. Luke was so much a part of my daily routine. How was I going to exist with a big hole in my head, my day, my routine, my heart?

My day starts when I wake up with a text from Luke, seeing as how I absolutely hate alarm clocks, but love text messages.

I sighed and walked over to my closet, retrieving a dusty, rarely-used alarm clock. I plugged it in next to my bed and watched as the times automatically set itself, the alarm times already being set from my futile attempt at being at mature adult and trying to wake up with an alarm.

I get dressed and run downstairs, popping two bagels into the toaster and scrambling around to get all of my schoolbooks together. When the bagels are ready, I coat one with strawberry cream cheese, for me, and the other with butter and jelly, for Luke, seeing as how he never has any food in his house. Sad, I know.

I run outside, seconds before the bus arrives, where Luke is already waiting for me at the end of my driveway. I hand him his bagel as he and I hop onto the bus, collapsing into a seat near the middle together. We take out our Zune’s and trade, listening to each other’s music and mocking each other musically for what we thought was the other person’s crappy taste in music.

We get to school and walk to our separate ways to our lockers, then meet up again for our first block class with each other. Then our second, the lunch, then our fourth block class together.

Sigh.

Then we hop the bus together again, repeating our morning routine. We get off the bus, go to my house, do homework, and then part ways, usually exchanging text messages until we can barely keep our eyes open.

Of course, this routine had changed slightly since Bailee entered into our – I mean, his – life, but all in all it was pretty much the same.

I walked over to my bedroom wall where a collage Luke had made in tenth grade was hanging.

It was us. Me. Him. Together, pictures of us throughout the years.

Baby pictures: The two of us being bummin’ babies on a beach blanket. Us grinning at the camera while being coated messily with baby food in our high chairs.

Kids: Me dumping a bucket of sand on Luke’s head. Luke making weird faces from behind me while I grinned toothless into the camera. Luke and I opening birthday presents together – of course we had the same birthday, I thought ironically.

Junior High: Luke smiling awkwardly at the camera after he got his braces on. Me looking awful in droopy socks and wearing a skort, a skort of all things. You know, skirt in the front, shorts in the back? The two of us waving at the photographer as we prepared to hop the bus on our first day to the big, bad junior high.

I stared at all of the pictures, smiling at Luke’s meticulous gluing of the pictures, all perfectly in chronological order, all the way up until last year, when we were in tenth grade.

Luke and I at the sophomore dance. The two of us once again on a beach blanket, but no longer drooling. The two of us once again covered in food, but only because of the food fight we had at our annual Fourth of July picnic.

I smiled again, then took the tacks out of the corner of the collage and carefully rolled it up, setting it gently on the top shelf of my closet. Before I closed it I walked over to my vanity mirror and took down a photo strip of Luke and I, the both of us, just last weekend, taking nerdy photos in a photo booth. I put it on the top shelf as well and closed the doors of my closet on the memories and our friendship.

What was I going to do without him?