The Nickname

Starting from the beginning, it was me and my best friend, Caleb. Caleb was a little taller than me with short dirty blond hair, gray eyes and was a little skinny. Me on the other hand, I had long black hair with dark blue eyes and I wasn't chubby nor fat but I had a bit of an untoned tummy and a little thicker thighs. Caleb had been my friend since we met in kindergarten (I was 4 and he was 6 at the time); our parents would always make play dates for us so that we could see each other on the weekends. We would always go to parks, Chuck E. Cheese, or even just over one another’s house.

Having fun with Caleb was the best thing that had ever happened to me, he was the only one I trusted and felt comfortable being around. Every time me and Caleb met up, we would call each other by our nicknames we gave each other. He would call me Scarlet because even though my skin was a bit light skinned , you could see my rosy pink cheeks (even though my name was Mariana). I would call him Teddy because he gave the best hugs in the world.

Everything had changed on his 12th birthday. It turns out Caleb’s dad had gotten a job opportunity down in New York (we lived in Illinois). They were moving to New York in 2 weeks, which had caused me to see him a bit less because he had to start packing up. On the last 2 days we had spent time together at the park one last time, we had a picnic and just sat and talked about what would happen when we meet up again later in life.

“Do you think we will see each other again Teddy?” I asked with a saddened expression

“Of course! I could never forget you Scarlet… I wish you could come with us.” He hugged me tightly as tears ran down his face.

In the middle of our conversation his dad yelled over that it was time to go, we said our final goodbyes. Before he left, I had given him a silver chain necklace with a red stone; in return he gave me a bracelet with both of our names engraved in them.

So far it’s been 18 years since we last talked and met. A lot has changed since then. Me and my family had moved to New York about 4 years later after Caleb had moved, my mother had passed from cancer and my father had gotten into a business that left me home on my own in the morning and with him at nights. Life has been okay with my dad around, I dearly miss my mom but if she was here, I'm sure she wouldn’t want me to be crying; she would want what’s best to make me happy. She left me a guitar that she used to play when she was around my age. I started learning the mornings my dad was gone and showed him my progress when he got home. It was nice to see him smile once in a while.

Playing the guitar was the best thing that happened to me because I got a job at a guitar shop teaching kids the basics along with getting gigs at bars. I’m now 28, I still do gigs at bars but decided to leave the shop because problems started to grow with my boss. I live in a 12 story apartment, unemployed but now looking into jobs to keep up my rent. I still earn money from the gigs but it isn’t enough to cover my bills.