There was only one person on earth who knew of my mother’s abuse and who knew my inner most secrets. My best friend Kye. I’d met him on my first day of high school. After my father had died I’d distanced myself from nearly everyone around me, never talked to anyone or hung out with anyone. Disconnected myself from any friendships. I didn’t want their pity; I didn’t want their sorrowful glances or pats on the back. I didn’t want their promises of a better tomorrow because I knew tomorrow would never be better, it would only be worse.
Once that had happened people had started distancing themselves from me, avoiding me in hallways as if I had the Bubonic Plague or something. Honestly, I didn’t mind. I enjoyed it, I enjoyed being alone. It gave me plenty of time to think, to dream, and to grieve.
Yet here, on the first day of school, came a boy. He plopped himself down at my deserted lunch table and started chowing down on a PB and J sandwich while I sat there gawking at him with an open mouth like a fish out of water. His pale blue eyes flickered to me and he blinked, wiping some jelly from the edge of mouth before holding out the half eaten sandwich. “Sorry, did you want some?” He’d asked.
That had been the first time Kye had made me honestly laugh, and it had been the first time I had laughed in a long time.
After that he had slowly become my best friend. He didn’t care that people say him walking with me; he didn’t care about their murmurs of disapproval or the scornful, judging glances that they threw his way. None of that mattered to him which made me love him all the more. I never got the vibe from him that he wanted me as anything other than a friend, which made me happy. After everything I’d been through I had been afraid to get too close to people, to be in a relationship. I didn’t want to feel that empty pit of despair gaping like a shot gun wound in my heart, I didn’t want to fall apart again because I didn’t think that I could put the pieces back together again this time.
Despite that, slowly but surely, Kye had become a big part in my life. He’d made my existence a bit more bearable, he’d let me come out of my protective shell a bit. A part of my old self had slowly begun to resurface and slowly I began to trust a little more.
He knew almost everything about me; he knew my likes and dislikes. My favorite color, animal, song, artist, anything you could name he would know. Yet, strangely, I knew very little about him. I knew his favorite music, which was classical. Honestly, what kind of teenager likes classical music? I knew his favorite animal was a dolphin. He lived with his dad and his three other siblings. He was 18, the same age as me. That was about it.
Kye was generally a rather…interesting character. He was dark and mysterious, with his dark brown hair and pale blue eyes. He was very secretive with most things, and I got the feeling that he was lying to me sometimes. He didn’t like to talk about himself, but he was open to many things. Sometimes he was happy, sometimes not so much. Sometimes he would joke around and be teasing; other times he couldn’t take a joke at all. In a nut shell, he was something else.
Never the less, he took me as I was. Broken and scarred, so I took him as he was.
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