The First Time
The first time I met Adam, we were ten years old.
He had just moved to the house next to mine and I was angry because I liked my old neighbor, Mrs. Spelanksy, who used to live there. She would always give me candy whenever I passed by her on the sidewalk on my way home. Now, Mrs. Spelanksy was gone – along with her free candy supply – and a stupid new sugar-less family was moving in.
I was riding my bike around the block when they parked on the front lawn for the first time. Their car had tons of boxes, suitcases and one boy around my age – all crammed in the back seat. The first thing I noticed wasn’t the boy or the boxes though, it was the super cool bike tied up on the hood of the car.
Then the boy stepped out of the car and all discourteous thoughts of envy or resentment vanished instantly from my head, because he was the coolest kid I had ever seen in my life.
He looked cool, he dressed cool, he even moved in a cool way and I was the exact opposite of cool. So, obviously, I wanted to be his friend immediately.
I skidded to a halt in front of their lawn and asked him if he wanted to go for a ride around the block with me. No introductions, no greetings, no nothing. I just rode my bike up there and asked him to come ride with me.
I guess I was so excited about a cool kid finally moving right next to my house that I didn’t want to waste any time with stupid social etiquette, like introducing myself first.
After glancing questioningly at his mother, who smiled and gave him a short nod as response, the boy with sandy hair turned to me grinning eagerly, and said yes.
I finally had a friend to go on adventures with me.
A cool friend.
I was ecstatic.
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K.Cross
