We arrived at my favorite hole-in-the-wall breakfast joint, and they seated us quickly.

“This place is nice and cozy.” Eric remarked, his eyes scanning the walls adorned with photos of diners and old records.

“Yeah, I love it here. It’s run by this sweet old couple, but I think they’ve passed it on to their kids now. They still help around here, but the kids handle most of the day-to-day. They’re not as mobile as they used to be.” I was already looking over the menu, glancing at the familiar choices.

Eric nodded, focusing on his own menu.

Before I could settle into the quiet comfort of the moment, a voice cut through the air.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite regular.” The voice belonged to Jill, the owner; the deep laugh lines around her eyes marked her age. She flashed me a warm smile, setting two glasses of water down on the table.

“Hi, Jill! This is Eric, a new coworker. Thought I’d show him where the best food in the city is.” I chuckled as we exchanged friendly greetings, and Jill reached out to shake his hand.

“Eric. Pleasure to meet you,” he said, his handshake gentle but firm.

She nodded. “Are you folks ready to order?”

“I’ll have the usual, Jill,” I said, folding my menu and handing it back.

“I’ll take the breakfast platter: over-medium eggs, bacon, toast, and a black coffee.” Eric said, handing his menu to her.

“Got it. I’ll have that out shortly,” she said, tapping the menus back into a neat pile before walking off toward the kitchen.

A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the sound of sizzling from the kitchen. I glanced over at Eric, who was staring out the window, watching the world pass by. The stillness was nice, but a thought kept tugging at my mind.

Something felt… off. I had to admit; I wanted to reconnect with him, to rebuild something from the past. But the scars from my youth, those old wounds from people I thought I could trust, made it hard to open up. Still, Eric had been someone I’d trusted once. Maybe it was okay to trust him again. Besides, if it worked, it might help me find someone to confide in other than Avery and Kari.

Jill returned with our coffee. She poured Eric’s black coffee from a small carafe and placed my beautifully made caramel macchiato in front of me.

We both thanked her as she disappeared again.

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “So…” I started, then hesitated, thinking how to break the ice. “I’ve always been curious…”

Eric looked up from his coffee, raising an eyebrow.

“Why did you just… disappear back when we were kids? I remember being really upset when you stopped showing up. Then the teacher said you had transferred, but I didn’t really get it.” I picked nervously at my nails under the table, feeling the old anxiety stir in my chest.

Eric’s gaze dropped to the table, his hands still for a moment. He was quiet for a beat before finally meeting my eyes again.

“That day…” He paused, clearly gathering his thoughts. “The day I gave you the school uniform, remember?” My mind wandered, searching for the memory he spoke of.

The fluorescent lights of the school bathroom hummed overhead as I stretched onto my tiptoes, scrubbing at a stubborn stain on my uniform sweater. This wasn’t just any public school; it was a prestigious institution, a rare chance my parents seized. They’d poured their meager savings into the tuition and the costly, mandatory uniform, pinning their hopes for a brighter future - perhaps for me, perhaps for themselves. Knowing the sacrifice, I treated my single uniform with utmost care.

Returning to the classroom, I had hoped to salvage some peace and get a head start on the day’s assignments. But that fragile hope shattered the moment I saw my desk: a cruel canvas of graffiti.

Poor girl

Dirty Trash

Selene = Stinky

No Friend Loser

I stood there, the words heavy on my chest. Was I upset? Yes, humiliated, to be sure. But another part of me also felt a grim resignation, as if their cruelty only echoed a truth I’d already known. Defeated, I didn’t notice Eric approaching until his cheerful voice broke the silence.

“Hey Moonie, I was looking everywhere! My mom packed us so much–”

His steps faltered as his bright gaze landed on the hateful scribbles. A small sigh escaped him. Without a word, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping away the insults. The marker may not have left a lasting mark on the desk, but its venom had already found its way into my heart. Eric gently guided me to my seat, placing a container of fragrant, home-cooked food on the cleaned surface. 

He came from a different world, one where such anxieties probably didn’t exist, but he offered me unwavering kindness. In a place where I often felt like an outsider defined by my circumstances, Eric saw only a friend. 

We walked out of school together that day, just like always. We’d grumble about the little things, wishing we could just hurry and grow into adults so we wouldn’t have to deal with the harshness of childhood. When we reached the base of the hill, our usual signal that our time together was over, I turned to see Eric’s mom waiting for us by one of their luxurious cars. She always brought me candy, only the best strawberry goodies the world offered, and every single time, she’d offer me a ride home. And every single time, I’d decline. How would they feel if they ever saw my humble abode? 

Today, though, she held a gift bag in her hands. She spotted us and her smile, as beautiful as an angel’s, brightened immediately.

“How are my favorite two kiddos doing today?”

She knelt, wrapping us both in a hug and ruffling our hair before standing. She passed the oversized gift bag to Eric. Eric received a pat on the back and a gentle nudge in my direction. His face flushed, and he avoided my gaze. 

“Here… this is for you,” he muttered.

My head tilted, a natural question forming. “But… it’s not my birthday yet, Wolfie.”

He practically shoved the bag into my hands before bolting for the car. “A-An early birthday present!”

The car door shut with a thud, a hint of Eric’s dark hair visible from the rolled-down window. His mom laughed at his shyness, waved me goodbye, and got in. The engine hummed to life, its steady purr finally snapping me out of my confusion. I wasn’t sure they could hear me, but I screamed my thanks as long as I could, making Eric’s head bob before the car drove off.

Home was quiet. My mom was likely asleep before her night shift, and my dad was almost always gone for work. I tiptoed to my room, clutching the bag to keep it from hitting anything and disturbing her. Gently, I closed the door, opened the blinds, and let the natural light pour in. Finally, my curiosity got the best of me. I reached into the bag, pulling out a firm box. Inside was a brand-new school uniform. Sewn onto the chest were my initials, a popular trend. I traced the pink thread with my small fingers, captivated by the perfect stitches. Had Eric asked his mother for this? Of course he had. What other reason could there be? 

In that moment, I understood the priceless nature of our friendship.

The fuzzy memory faded. My eyes met his, prompting him to continue his explanation.

“We got home, and my dad told us we were moving. New city. New business opportunity. He said it was non-negotiable.” His voice softened as he spoke. “It came out of nowhere. My mom was just as surprised, and honestly, we had little say in it. We packed up that evening.”

There was a flicker of sadness in his eyes, his lips curling downward in a faint frown.

“I asked my mom if I could at least say goodbye to you, but when she asked my dad, he forbade it. I wanted to send a letter, but… I didn’t even have your address.” He shrugged slightly, as if resigned to the situation. “In the end, there wasn’t much a kid like me could do. I thought that was it, that I’d never see you again.”

He looked at me with a faint smile. “But here we are. An unexpected reunion.”

I chuckled, the memory of those days mixing with the present moment. Just then, Jill returned with our food, the steam rising from the plates and filling the air with the scent of bacon and eggs. Simple but comforting.

“Well,” I said, smiling as I picked up my fork. “I’m glad we met again like this. Maybe now we can pick up where we left off.”

Eric met my gaze and smiled, his fork poised above his plate.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

----------------------------------------------------

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Art: Petra Eggert