More Than Just Us

I remember the day we met very clearly. After all, how can you forget your best friend? I was only a 10 year old girl who never even so much as saw a dress, so I didn't expect Daryl Dixon to notice me. Even at 12 it was a widely known fact that he was a mini man whore. But when my parents split up and me and mom moved into the trailer park, I became a target for the little shit I now call my greatest friend. I was sitting outside tossing a baseball into the air when I heard yelling and loud slaps coming from inside the trailer next door. I peeked into the window of one of the rooms and saw a boy slightly older than myself getting beat by his father. The boy must have sensed my eyes on him because he turned his head towards me and glared. I couldn't take my brown eyes off of his lovely blue ones. He mouthed something to me that I couldn't quite make out but I was sure it was something like "Get out of here!" I quickly scrambled back to my front step as I heard the punches subside and the father say, "That'll teach you to back talk, boy." Within 30 seconds the boy walked out of his home and over to mine with the glare I had seen just minutes earlier still on his face. "What you think you're doin' spyin' on me little boy?" I was confused by his comment. Who did he think he was calling a boy? "I ain't no boy," I said indignantly. "Coulda fooled me," he said. "Ya ain't got no tits or ass. Your hair is shorter than mine!" Well, that was true. I kept my hair short to make thing easier on myself since my hair was so damn curly. But he was still being an ass and I needed to teach him a lesson. I punched him in the face and spit on him as he reared back in pain. He held his nose and apologized over and over. I smiled at the good worked I'd done and held out my hand. He gingerly shook it as I said, "The names Skip." He nodded and mumbled, "Daryl." I put my arm around him and steered him into my house for some ice cream, feeling bad for punching a boy I'd just seen get beat by his own dad. "Sorry for hurtin' your face D." He looked at me with a sneer and said, "You can't hurt me. You're just a girl." I smiled at him. "Ain't that what got you punched by me a minute ago?," I asked. He shook his head at me and said, "Naw that's cause you can't admit that you don't got tits." I looked at him and did something that I don't advise any 10 year old girls to do to a boy. I pulled up my shirt and revealed my b cups while he looked with an open mouth. "But, how?!" I sighed and explained the magic of a large shirt while he listened intently, frequently looking at my recently exposed chest. "Wanna go to a movie?," he asked with his eyes still focused on my chest. "I'm only 10 and no thanks anyways. I don't do the whole 'dating' thing," I said. He nodded and put his arm around my shoulder as he ate the chocolate ice cream I'd served him. Before I knew it, in typical Daryl fashion he had his hand on my breast. For the second time that day I hit him. "Are you done now?," I demanded. As he nodded I realized I had to be careful around D. But, it was also the moment I realized that we'd be friends forever. Who wouldn't be best friend with the first guy to ever feel em up?