Can't Forget About It

I saw her again today. As usual, she was sitting at the cafeteria table with her suck-up friends. All they do is flatter her and praise her for the stupidest and most insignificant things; they just want her to notice them and maybe pick a favorite. But no, she’s kind and caring towards all of them, and treats them equally. She also gets straight-A’s from almost every test, she’s the captain of the girls’ basketball team with a height of 5.9”, and she is most likely going to get an award for her excellent results in tutoring other students.

That’s how Kate Willow is. Every student —and teacher— worships her, the girls want to be just like her, and the boys all want her to their girlfriend. You can’t avoid the talk about her in the boys’ changing rooms, and trust me, you wouldn’t even want to. Who could resist hearing about her long slender legs, wavy brown hair, sky-blue eyes and her… well you know? I can’t, that’s for sure.

Kate Willow, after all, is the most wanted person in the Greenshell Valley High School.

It’s like she has some kind of a spell cast upon her, where everything she does or says is interesting and exciting. Due to that, there are always rumors going on about what she did on the weekend or who she was talking with in chem. All that sort of stuff.

To me, those rumors are the only way to know what’s going on in my ex-best friend’s life. You definitely haven’t known this before, but Kate Willow was my best friend before she became popular right at the beginning if our freshman year. In the spring of the year when we graduated from middle school, I was told by her that she didn’t want me to be friends with her or talk to her anymore; according to her I would only bring her down and make her unpopular once we’d start high school.

That happened almost four years ago. We’re both on our senior year now, and we’re going to graduate in three months. Over these years I’ve never spoken to her willingly, but in the shadows I’ve watched her become more and more popular among the school body, while I’ve been totally forgotten. And while she’s been surrounded by all popular straight-A kids, my friends have reduced to zero.

No wonder she wanted to get rid of me; she must’ve seen where I was headed to, so she saved herself before it would be too late. I can’t blame her for that, because high school really is a very wretched place. I can’t blame her, no matter how much it has hurt, no matter how much it still hurts.

But now I can’t accept the fact that we’re not friends anymore. Not when I noticed the tattoo she had on her inner right wrist while I was eating my lunch today. Boy, I almost choked on my apple when I realized what it was. The tattoo consisted of three outlined stars which were connected to each other by three thin lines. And most importantly, above the stars, there were our initials, K & M, K for Kate and M for Matt. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, mainly because she had always worn bracelets or long sleeved shirts. Or I had been too far away from her.

You might wonder why I know the meaning behind those letters. Well, the answer is simple: I have the same tattoo, only mine is on my left hand, because it’s my dominant one while hers is right. We had gotten these tattoos when we were 13 to declare our never ending friendship. Our parents had totally freaked out when they found out about them; we had both gotten grounded for two months, but it was worth it. I still think it was.

So even after four years of ignoring me she hadn’t gotten rid of that tattoo. It had to mean something to her, maybe she thought about me sometimes, because money wouldn’t be a problem if she wanted a tattoo removed. And all these years I had thought she didn’t even remember me.

It’s quite cruel actually. Just when I was about to give up on her, she shows her tattoo and I’m confused as hell. Moreover, my hopes are getting up in vain; that maybe, just maybe she wants to be my friend again. But that won’t happen and I know it. It’s just that no matter how many times I tell myself that, there’s this stupid spark of joy and hope inside my heart, and it’s growing. It’s been growing ever since I saw that tattoo in the lunch hour at the school cafeteria.

And I’m afraid it’s never going to go away.