Maybe Someday by Nithan Sage

Chapter 3

Friends?

Ever since I was a toddler, I had trouble making friends. I was always either too quiet or too boring for the other five-year-olds' taste.

Their reasons?

Because I didn't agree with their shenanigans of running around the park chasing balls and butterflies, and eating boogers. They were not my ideal choices to spend my time at the park.

And it was a great concern for my mother. My mother, who was known as a social butterfly. Regardless of her attempts, her worries came true; I had taken more of my dad's personality than my mother would have liked.

So it surprised her, more than it had surprised me, when the girl in front of me stretched out her hand, asking me if I wanted to be her friend.

I looked at my mother, whose eyes were as wide as mine. I then looked back at the girl.

"Me?"

I never got a chance to answer as my mother beside me was already answering for me, "Yes! he would love to be your friend."

I didn't wanted to be her friend. She talked too much and had a goofy smile. And I, as a five-year-old, didn't wanted to be friends with someone with a goofy smile.

But my mother didn't care what I - the five-year-old- wanted.

And so, our fateful friendship began.