Fall By the Wayside

Freshman year in high school loomed strangely.  It felt less like a new chapter and more like a semicolon.  We were changing buildings, but keeping the bulk of our peers and pecking order.  But I had long since relinquished any and all hope of rising to the popular elite and I was quite happy with my little group of friends.  As long as I had my hilarious best friend by my side I was quite certain I could survive the whole ordeal. 

When my best friend began distancing herself from me not long after the year began it felt like a sucker punch.  At first I thought I was imagining it.  When it became clear that she had established another friendship that was taking up a lot of her time I told myself that I just needed to make an effort and that the three of us could all be great friends in time.  I wasn't wild about sharing my best friend, but I was a reasonable person.  It took me a couple of months before I fully grasped the truth of it; she had chosen her new friend, not as an addition, but as a replacement. 

Being subtly edged out of a friendship in high school is a demoralizing experience to say the least.  You sort of go through all the stages of grief--denial, bargaining etc--in total isolation.  The person you used to talk to about such things is now the person you need to talk about.  And talking to other friends about the issue seemed like shining a spotlight on what a loser you must be for having had someone you had been close to suddenly drop you.  So I went to work strengthening old friendships and building new ones, pretending that the dissolution of my best friend and I had been a mutual thing, and not the least bit devastating.     

But before I fully accepted the demise of our friendship, there was a month or so when I thought maybe I could win her back or become part of a friendship trio.  I insinuated myself into their plans as casually as possible, pretending I didn't notice the strain in their voices as they politely let me tag along.  One day, I managed to shuck and jive my way into a sleepover invitation at the new friend's house.  I decided I'd play to my strengths--being funny and making hilarious prank phone calls, something old best friend and I had really used to enjoy.  But while my old prank phone call shtick had been goofy and absurdist, my work that night veered unintentionally toward the cruel.  I suggested we call a boy in our class who was already an automatic punchline for every asshole in our class.  I chose someone who was having a far worse time than I navigating the hellscape of high school.  And while I did it under duress of trying to win back a friend who had clearly moved on, I have a very hard time forgiving myself for it to this day.  The phone call was brief, but I remember it in excruciating detail. 

The boy's father answered and told me his son was in bed.  It was after 11:00 pm, so I'd probably awoken him as well.  He sounded groggy, but very kind.  I apologized for calling so late and asked him to tell his son that "Lisa" had called.  The dad suddenly sounded very happy as he promised to tell him first thing in the morning.  For some unconscionable reason I asked the dad if his son got a lot of calls from girls.  "Oh, not that many," he said, diplomatically.  When the phone call was over I played it off with a laugh, but I felt like sobbing.  This boy who I'd seen teased mercilessly by shitheads at school was going to wake up to his dad giving him the exciting news that Lisa had called.  And he might wonder for a split second if there really was a girl named Lisa who liked him.  But then he'd probably realize that some shitty person was just making a joke of him even after school hours.  He'd be in the gut-wrenching position of breaking his dad's heart and saying, "Actually, Pops, not only is there not a friend or girlfriend calling to legitimately talk to me, but those horrible kids from school are now terrorizing me at home." 

After that sleepover I went quietly into the night and set old best friend free to be whoever she wanted.  I had caught a glimpse of myself that was so ugly I never wanted to see it again as long as I lived.  And if I'd become so desperate as to be mean-spirited to someone who was already bullied I didn't want to see what other pathetic lengths I might go to.

After I finally let my old friend go I was in the uncomfortable position of trying to ascertain why she had jumped ship.  I looked back on our 3 years of every weekend built-in sleepovers at alternating houses.  I remembered discovering Mystery Science Theater 3000 with her late one night and proclaiming it the best show in the history of the world.  I remember feeling honored and very responsible when her mom asked me to take care of their pets when they went on vacation, and of once being invited to come up north with them.  I remember for some reason applying Lee Press-On Nails on the car ride up to their trailer on a lake, and then having a challenging time playing in the woods.  I remember watching at least 200 rented movies with her that we got from the store her mom worked at.  I remember going to a pet store to buy dog treats for various neighborhood dogs we had noticed were left outside a lot and of bringing the surprised animals a snack a few times.  I remember browsing the old Kohl's Department store in town and both buying eye pillows....to rejuvenate our tired 11 year old eyes, I guess.  I remember laughing hysterically with her about everything.

I didn't remember anything bad or anything I had done wrong.  Later I began to think that my sarcasm and disdain for the popular crowd might have been a touch too negative and that she wished to enter high school with a more glass-is-half-full outlook.  But I never really knew for sure.

Adulthood continues to usher in more questions than answers, much to my chagrin, but I know for certain that spending time with people who steadfastly love you as you continue to grow and evolve and stumble and collapse and rise again on this never-ending journey of being human is the only thing that matters.