Seasons of Love

525,600 minutes, how do you measure the life of a woman or a man?
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried?
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died?
It’s time now to sing out, though the story never ends,
Let’s celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends.
Remember the love.
-Seasons of Love from RENT

         “Oh my god,” Abby gasped, her jaw dropping.
         “What?” I asked.
         “That puppy is adorable!” Abby exclaimed.
         I leaned back on the jungle gym and looked behind me. I saw a middle aged man walked a tiny brown and black puppy. The puppy clumsily ran along the sidewalk, its tiny tail wagging energetically. Adorable was an appropriate word.
         “Awww. Look at the little perrito,” I said.
         Abby, who had been hanging upside down, pulled herself up.
         “That wasn’t the name I had in mind for it,” she laughed.
         I chuckled.
         “It’s not a name. It’s Spanish for ‘puppy’,” I replied.
         Abby shrugged. She was a reluctant French student. She wasn’t looking forward to starting another year of French studies the following day. Actually, neither of us were looking forward to starting junior year. We went to the park to get our minds off our fate.
         “It sounds better in English,” Abby said. “’Puppy’ is cuter. ‘Perrito’ sounds like a cracker.”
         “I have this theory that every name sounds better in Spanish than it does in English,” I replied.
         “Some theory,” Abby countered. “Do ‘Abigail’ and ‘Sasha’ even translate to Spanish?”
         “Well, no,” I admitted. “But give me any other name, and I promise it will sound better. Try me.”
         “Paul,” Abby shot out.
         “Paulo,” I said. “Sounds sexier.”
         Abby nodded with a laugh.
         “Alright. How about Eddie?”
         “Eduardo.”
         Abby thought for a moment.
         “That sounds sexy too,” Abby said with a mischievous lift of her eyebrows. “But what about girls’ names? Meg?”
         “Miguela,” I answered.
         “And Lindsay?” she asked.
         I paused.
         “Doesn’t translate,” I said.
         “What a shame,” Abby said.
Lindsay was the name of a girl at our school with whom Abby was friends. I knew Lindsay, and liked her well enough, but had never been that close to her. And although I never told Abby, I didn’t really like it when she brought her up. The thing was that in the last few years Abby had started making a lot of friends outside of our traditional group that had hung out since middle school. I wasn’t insecure to a point where I minded that; I had other friends too. But Abby seemed to subconsciously divide her friends into groups, and she had often told me that she felt that she could relate to her ‘other friends’ better than she could to her older friends. In my heart I knew she didn’t mean for me to take it personally, but I couldn’t help it.
Every time she talked about how easily she related to the ‘other friends’ I felt a little betrayed. I knew it was stupid and selfish, but I was hurt that she seemed to prefer people she had known half as long as she had known me. It bugged me more that Abby seemed to find a new kindred spirit every season. A few months after Abby started talking to Lindsay she met Dustin, who had been like her big brother for about a year.  Then Abby met Chris, her current boyfriend, on a cruise. He lived in New York, but they kept up the relationship via email. Now Abby told me about how much she liked him and how well he understood her- just like she did about Lindsay and Dustin.
But Chris was different than his predecessors. A lot of the ‘other friends’ had a nasty habit of treating Abby like dirt. Lindsay sometimes blew Abby off for other friends (friends who hadn’t been nearly as good to her). Dustin formed the habit of calling Abby when he was drunk and calling her a bitch when she objected to it. Chris seemed like he cared about Abby to a point where he would never do things like that.
         “I hope this year will be fun,” Abby said, interrupting my thoughts. “Last year really sucked.”
         I tried not to think about the disaster that had been our sophomore year. It had been hard for both of us. Drama and difficulties seemed to pop up like a crazy game of whack-a-mole. My self-esteem took a nasty beating from Kim, weight issues and school. Abby dealt with drama from the ‘other friends’ and her father’s job was transferred to Georgia (on the other side of the country) during the last month of the school year.
Fortunately, the summer provided a kind of solace for us. I had my weight under control and I no longer had to face Kim every day. Abby had more or less patched things up with Lindsay. Abby and her mom also made plans to stay in town until she graduated, but the distance from Abby’s father was wearing down on them over time.
         “I’m sure it will be,” I said, scooting closer to her. “After last year, I think we’ve earned a good junior year.”
         Abby and I looked up into the bright summer sky. There was a single, puffy cloud floating in the sea of blue. As we watched in silence I wished with all of my heart that what I said was true. I wished that we would have a great year. Even more than that, I wished I wouldn’t harbor any of these insecurities by the end of the year.
~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~          
         I paced across the kitchen floor. My winter boots made loud thuds with every step. The noise annoyed me. I looked up at my watch again. 8:45.
         “Damn it!” I muttered.
         She was almost two hours late. Where the hell was she? I pulled out my cell phone and flipped it open. No missed calls. No new messages.
         “Of course not,” I grumbled.
         I punched a number into the phone, only to hang up. I had gone through this routine several times in the last ten minutes. Check the clock. Check the phone. Make the call. Hang up.
         Earlier in the day I had invited a few friends over to hang out. Abby and another friend, Gigi, agreed to come. At five o’clock Gigi showed up at my door. At five thirty I called for pizza. At five forty-five the pizza arrived, but Abby had not. Gigi and I talked as we ate the pizza, and I kept wondering if we should set some aside for Abby. At six Gigi and I split the last slice.
         Gigi had been really kind during the whole evening and I enjoyed talking with her. I felt really embarrassed that Abby had stood me up like that, and as the hour grew later my anger grew stronger. Gigi smiled at me when her mom came to pick her up. I told her I had fun and apologized yet again for Abby.
         After Gigi left I started pacing in the kitchen. I was fuming, but I felt that it wasn’t fair to be angry with Abby. I didn’t know why she didn’t come. There could be a perfectly understandable reason preventing her from coming. Maybe there had been an accident and she and her mom were at the hospital. Because there aren’t any phones in a hospital. Maybe she got in trouble: she was grounded and had her phone taken away. Or maybe she was just on the phone with her boyfriend. Maybe she didn’t come because she had a lot of homework. Or maybe she didn’t come because she forgot about you.
         I pulled my phone out again. I punched Abby’s number in furiously. I was done making excuses for her. I was her friend, and if she couldn’t keep her word then she could at least pick up her damn phone and tell me why. As the phone rang I felt the urge to be sensitive and understanding, but the urge to give her a piece of my mind was stronger.
         “Hello?”
         Abby sounded worn out on the phone. Did she miss the evening because she was sleeping? Did I have a right to be angry at that? That didn’t matter; she didn’t say she was asleep.
         “Hi Abby. It’s Sasha.”
         My voice was a compromise of my battling emotions. It wasn’t nearly as sharp as I wanted it to be, but it wasn’t exactly gentle either.
         “Remember our plans?” I asked curtly.
         Abby groaned.
         “I forgot. I’m totally sorry, Sasha.”
         She forgot. I had been waiting for two hours now because she forgot. Sorry, honey, that ain’t gonna fly.
         “Well, geez, Abby. We only made these plans a few hours ago, and you just forgot?” I asked.
         Yet again I was disappointed with my sugar-coated tone. I wished I had the guts to scream at her. But then Abby’s voice cracked. I heard the dial tone quiet, like Abby covered the phone with her hand. I heard her sobbing in the background.
         “Abby, what’s wrong?” I asked. “I can hear you crying, so don’t try to cover it up.”
         “I…don’t…want…to leave,” Abby cried.
         I froze. I knew the answer to my question before I asked it, but I had avoided jumping to conclusions all night and I wasn’t starting now.
         “You’re moving to Georgia, aren’t you?” I asked quietly.
         Abby sniffled.
         “Uh huh.”
         Abby started crying again.
         My anger slipped away. I tried desperately to think of what to say.
         “What can I do?” I asked. “Do you want me to come over?”
         “That would be nice,” Abby replied.
         “Give me five minutes,” I said and hung up the phone.
         I ran out of the kitchen into the office. My dad sat in the messy old room facing the computer.
         “Dad, do you mind if I go to Abby’s for a bit?” I asked. “She just found out she’s moving.”
         Dad got out of his seat and walked after me to the garage.
         “They’re leaving now? In the middle of the school year?” Dad asked.
         “I don’t know the details. I guess so,” I said helplessly.”A while ago Abby mentioned the possibility of this happening. She said if they sold the house then they’d have to leave, but you know the market these days. It takes most people years to get rid of a house.”
         “I know,” Dad said as he climbed into the driver’s seat of our SUV. “They must have taken a huge loss if they sold it this quick.”
         “But her mom said she promised to stay ‘till the end of junior year,” I said.
         I shook my head. I didn’t need Dad to tell me how childish it was to cling to that promise.
         “Could I ask her to stay at our house?” I asked, only half-joking.
         “It’s a possibility,” Dad said as he pulled out of the driveway.
         Abby and I lived in the same neighborhood, so we arrived in no time. I jumped out of the car, waved goodbye and rushed up to the door. Abby opened it before I could ring the bell. Her face was calm and composed, and her eyes weren’t red or swollen. She actually smiled as I walked inside. If I hadn’t heard it I wouldn’t have guessed that she had been crying. But that was Abby. She preferred to keep her emotions inside.
         “Come on in,” she said cheerfully.
         As she closed the door she started apologizing profusely.
         “I’m so sorry I forgot about coming over,” Abby said. “Mom told me and I just forgot everything and-”
         “Don’t worry about it,” I interrupted.
         I followed her into the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen always seemed rustic to me. There were lots of antiques and cute furnishings lying around. Vintage floral and animal prints aligned the walls. The hardwood floor creaked as we walked across it. It struck me that I didn’t know how much longer the house would look like this.
         Abby and I sat down at the kitchen table. Abby’s mom brought over two mugs of hot chocolate. Abby and her mother looked really different. Abby had long brown hair while her mom cut her fair, bushy waves short. Abby wore thick rimmed glasses, but her mother wore contacts. Even now Abby wore a convincing mask of a smile while her mother blatantly revealed her concern. Worried sadness showed from her eyes in a way that I had never seen.
         “Thanks for coming, Sasha. We really appreciate it,” she said.
         Abby nodded.
         “Yeah, you have no idea how much this helps,” she added.
         Abby’s mom smiled at me and left the room. Abby and I were alone. I took a sip of the hot chocolate and looked at Abby.
         “So. Georgia, huh?” I asked.
         “Yup,” she said.
         Abby wasn’t smiling, but she betrayed no signs of breaking down. I shook my head.
         “What the hell are you going to do in Georgia?” I asked. “You hate the sun, you hate the heat, and you’re a hardcore liberal.”
         Abby laughed.
         “I don’t know.”
         “How are you with all of this?”
         “Not too good. I’m not gonna lie,” Abby replied.
         I was actually surprised that she didn’t lie. I expected her to give the old “I’m fine” BS. Abby must have been hurting more than I could comprehend. Less than an hour earlier I wished I could be completely honest with her. I wished I could have told her how angry I was. Now I sat there and wished I could comfort her. I wished I knew what to say to make this easier for her, to tell her how much I wanted to help.
         “Dad said you could stay with us if you wanted,” I told her.
         “That could work,” Abby said. “Until the summer at least. I don’t think I could stay away from my family for a whole year.”
         I nodded sadly. I hadn’t thought about that. Ever since Abby’s dad moved she found a new appreciation for her family. Although I wanted her to stay for senior year, I knew it was asking too much of her and her parents.
         “Does Chris know yet?” I asked.
         “Yeah. I told him about it about an hour ago,” Abby answered.
         “When did you find out?” I asked.
         “A few hours ago,” Abby said. “Mom and I talked, then I went online to tell Chris. Then you called. I’m so sorry about forgetting!”
         I held up my hand.
         “I would have forgotten it under these circumstances too,” I said. “Who else knows?”
         “I told Lindsay and Chelsea. I sent Dustin an email but I don’t know what to expect from him,” Abby said.
         Abby and Dustin had drifted even farther apart since the summer due to more drunk phone calls.
         “And I have to tell Lauren,” Abby said. “Do you mind if I-”
         “Go ahead,” I said.
         Abby walked over to the desk in the corner of the room and sat down at the computer.
         Lauren. I forgot about the newest friend. I sighed and drowned my jealousy in my hot chocolate. I wasn’t going to let my selfishness get the best of me. Not now. Abby needed a friend, and no matter how angry I got I would always be her friend. That’s when I figured out what I could do to make this easier for Abby: bite my tongue.
~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~
         Over the next few weeks Abby’s parents talked with my parents and sorted out the arrangements for her to stay with us until summer started. Abby’s folks had indeed sold their house and only had a few weeks to move out. Abby’s mom was moving down to Georgia, and Abby would stay with us for two months. Then she would go down and meet her parents.
         But in the weeks before her mom left Abby seemed withdrawn. This was usually the next phase in Abby’s stages of unhappiness; she put up a façade in front of people, and when she ran out of energy to do that she pulled away from people altogether. I had seen her do this before when she broke up with a boyfriend or got in an argument with someone. It had always bothered me that she wouldn’t let people help her with her issues, and she always admitted that she needed to work on it, but it never changed. This time I was determined to get her to open up; I didn’t want her to spend her last months by herself.
Abby carpooled with my little sister, Lucy, and me to and from school every day, but in the mornings she rarely spoke. I tried to break the ice in the mornings, but it was like talking to a brick wall most of the time. It reminded me of talking to Kim the year before, which made it feel even worse. It brought back all of the terrible feelings I had before: like I was unimportant, like I was invisible, like I didn’t matter to my friends at all.
Abby spoke in the afternoons but she was always clear that she wanted to go straight home. On rare occasions we talked about the move-in and every time it came up she never bothered to hide how much she dreaded the day. I understood that she wanted to be with her family, and I knew how immature this was, but I couldn’t help but feel stung.
         I was extremely frustrated. I hated myself for feeling the way I did. It wasn’t fair to Abby. She was going through a lot and I needed to put my own crap aside and be there for her, but the longer it went the more difficult it became to hold it in.
         One day Abby and I were walking toward the hallway where we sat before the first bell every morning. I tried to talk to her about how I felt. Abby and I had always been able to talk to each other. I was sure that if we just had a heart to heart then I could let go of my issues.
         “How come you never talk in the mornings?” I asked.
         “I’m tired,” she answered.
         Her curt tone sounded harsh compared to her old, open way of talking. And it reminded me once more of the way Kim spoke to me before I cut ties with her.
         “I just feel like we never really talk anymore,” I said.
         Abby shrugged.
         “I haven’t been talking to a lot of people lately,” she said.
         “Well,” I continued, “I just want you to know I’m here.”
         “Now isn’t a good time,” Abby replied.
         With that Abby walked ahead and sat next to Lauren. I felt cheated. I haven’t been talking to a lot of people lately? Now isn’t a good time? That was it? I’d been her friend for five years, I’d stood by her side through the whole moving process, and that was all she had to say to me?
         I fumed over it for the rest of the day. I got home and paced around my room, not knowing what to do with myself. How could she do this to me? I was her friend! She was leaving soon and she wouldn’t talk to me. But she didn’t seem to have any problems talking to Lauren or Chris. This wasn’t fair! I was trying really hard to be a good friend to her and she was ignoring me for someone else. I deserved more than that! She couldn’t push me aside like that! I was not extendable, damn it! God, I could have punched something.
         I tried to calm myself down. I stopped pacing and took some deep breaths. She was having a tough time. I couldn’t understand what was going through her mind. But I knew that she was my friend. I loved her, and I knew that she loved me. She didn’t mean to hurt me. I had to be calm and patient. One of these days she would snap out of it and then-
         No.
         I replayed my thoughts in my head. Yes she was having a tough time, but that did not justify how she was treating me. Abby had no good excuse for that and I was tired of making ones for her. I was done. Enough with patience. Enough bullshit.
         I sat down at my desk and turned on my laptop. I hardly knew what I was doing. Before I thought it through I was on my myspace page with a poem ready to be posted as a bulletin. I realized that my face was wet. I had been crying while I wrote. My jaw was clenched as I read over my words.

i hate how you roll your eyes at drama
only to freak out if your boyfriend doesn't call.
i hate how you're cool with me one minute
and the next you won't even talk.
i hate how you act like you see everything and understand everything you see
when you are freaking blind.
i hate how you call me your friend
when you barely talk to me anymore.
i hate how i've been at your side for years
yet always in the shadow of someone who's been there for months.
i hate that i love you so much
because i know you don't care as much for me.
sometimes i hate you
and i hate myself for feeling it.
i hate that i've told you the truth time and time again
only to be ignored and blown off.
i hate how i feel guilty when i tell you how i feel
especially when it's never 'a good time'.
i hate how you think your life is traumatic
when you deal with the same crap as everyone else.
i hate that you won't read this
and even if you do you won't get it.

         The writer in me was bugged by the lack of rhythm in the poem. Whatever, I wasn’t good at poetry, and I wasn’t writing this to be artistic; this was raw, suppressed anger spewed out onto a computer screen. And I wanted it out there.
         I clicked the ‘post’ icon and announced my feelings to the internet. Granted, it would have been more mature to call Abby, or send her an email since I was more eloquent on page than in person. But I was done with maturity. I didn’t mention names, so anyone else who read the poem wouldn’t know the full story. But I was sure that if Abby read it she would know who I was talking about.
         A little ribbon popped up and told me I had a new message. From Abby. As I looked at the glowing screen my actions dawned on me. I had just bashed one of my best friends on the internet. Even if my intent was simply to vent my anger and tell her what I was going through, it didn’t change what I did. I felt disgusted with myself. But at the same time I was relieved that I had finally let it out. Now I had to deal with the consequences.
         I took a deep breath and opened the message.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Abbs-of-steel
To:  sasha.barely.goin.

Wow thanks Sasha

         It amazed me how those three little words told me how angry she was. I knew I had to write back, but I had no idea what I would say. I didn’t think as I wrote; I just typed my thoughts as they came to me.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: sasha.barely.goin.
To: Abbs-of-steel.

i don't hate you. You're one of my best friends and I MISS you. but sometimes i'm pissed that you take me for granted and you just shrug it off when i tell you how i feel.

I sent my note. Then another message popped up. I opened it.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Abbs-of-steel
To:  sasha.barely.goin.

Let me continue from my last message. I don't freak out when Chris doesn't call me. I got my phone taken away, I joke when he doesn't. When I do, it's because he's been smoking. I "act" like I understand everything I see, because I've been through so much that I most likely do. I don't talk to fucking anyone anymore, because I'm going to be leaving in a few months, and by then it won't matter. I'm sorry that my parents are leaving me, I'm leaving, my dog is dead, I'm going to the poor side of the spectrum, and my mom has been attacking my character every day for the past week. I'm sorry that I've been spending so much time trying to keep myself together by seeing a fucking counselor.
You severely underestimate me as a person. I never meant to put you in a person’s shadow. I have listened to you time and time again, and have tried to help you out with your problems. I'm sorry if I can't live up to my expectations as a friend. I'm sorry Sasha that I can't give you the comfort of always being there. I'm truly sorry that I haven't lived up to being the best friend I can be for you. But don't EVER say this BULLSHIT about me, and don't ever bring my boyfriend into it. Sasha, I'm going to be fucking living with you for the next 2 months. I talk to you every day, I carpool with you to and from school. And you're saying I don't talk to you?

         Uh, yeah! I wanted to argue back that Abby hadn’t told me about fighting with her mom, or that she had her phone taken away. I also wished to inform her that a lot of other people before her have dealt with the things that she felt were traumatizing. People had been heartbroken by boyfriends, been forced to put down beloved pets, fought with their parents and argued with friends before; and they didn’t act like such drama queens about it. But she was obviously angry, and if I pushed her further then we wouldn’t resolve anything. I had to focus on the big picture. If I got hung up on little things then I could lose one of my best friends. I sent a reply.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: sasha.barely.goin.
To: Abbs-of-steel.

this 'bullshit' is how if feel, Abby. And maybe you should consider this: you cutting yourself off from everyone before you leave isn't making it easier for us to say goodbye, it’s just pissing people off. i mean, if you only have a few months left then why are you spending them alone?

And don't you think i've realized that you're moving in with us for a couple of months and that maybe these feelings could cause some problems?

And i've picked up on the fact that you don't even want to be here anyway. And i understand that you're losing your parents in doing it (i've spent long periods of time away from my family too, you know), but i can't help it if it still feels like a slap to the face.

         I sent my message and waited for her reply. When it came I was half afraid of finding another defensive note.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Abbs-of-steel
To:  sasha.barely.goin.

Sasha, I'm not saying that you've done this, so don't take this the wrong way, but a lot of people have shown me I shouldn't make the effort, and I've been trying with some, but you can't get past who you are. I'm really sorry for the way I popped off, I've been so edgy lately…it was uncalled for.

I'm hoping this won't cause problems, so maybe we could just patch things up, I'm not sure how you feel about that though. I don't want to fight with any more people, I've done that enough this week.

I don't mean to do that, I really don't. But please, to say that stuff about me on myspace is rude, and it hurts. Being someone who doesn't get offended often, I was hurt. I was boiling with anger (i think that was obvious) and i was just...hurt.

         Guilt churned in my stomach, sapping my insides and weighing them down. I hated that I had hurt Abby, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize for it. As wrong as it was, I meant the things I wrote and I needed her to understand me. I deserved the nasty rebound as much as she deserved my angry poem. But my anger had dissolved, and I could tell that hers had too. I replied as gently as I could.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: sasha.barely.goin.
To: Abbs-of-steel.

you shouldn't apologize for ranting, because i won't apologize for what i said in the other emails either. you can't help how you feel, i know that better than anyone. i understand if you were hurt and angry. i guess we both are at this point. but if you can put it behind you then so can i. assuming of course that the offer is still good when i send this.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Abbs-of-steel
To:  sasha.barely.goin.

yeah I'm up for it, like I said..I don't want to fight, especially not one of my best friends.
Believe it or not Sasha, even though I may not act like it (I don't with most) you are one of them. I don't mean to act like I don't care, it's just my nature. I should work on that.
And I will apologize for ranting, lol thank you very much- it was highly uncalled for on my part. I blew my cap, dear chap! (sorry got into monster)

         I laughed in relief as I read Abby’s message. There it was on my computer screen: my friend, back again. A new wave of guilt added a bitter taste to the otherwise beautiful message. Usually I was the one who insisted on apologizing for everything. Now she persisted in asking for my forgiveness, even when I refused to do the same. I was tempted to write down the two small words, but I didn’t have the strength. I couldn’t face the shame of what I had done. Instead, I chickened out and moved forward.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: sasha.barely.goin.
To: Abbs-of-steel.

ha ha.nice rhyme at the end. and thanks. seriously, that's all i want. to feel like i matter every now and then.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Abbs-of-steel
To:  sasha.barely.goin.

You do matter, a lot more than you think, I love you Sasha don't EVER question that. You're welcome

         It was the shortest message, and it broke my heart. I felt my eyes well up and a fresh set of tears pour down my face. I turned away from the computer; I couldn’t face what I had just done. This painful guilt was worse than anything I had ever felt before. I looked around my room, desperately searching for some kind of mind-numbing distraction. A DVD caught my eye. I picked it up and looked it over: Pineapple Express.
         A comedy. Perfect.
         I slipped it into my computer and pressed ‘play’. The movie was good anesthetic. Although it wasn’t particularly good for the first forty minutes, it at least kept my mind off my email. When it finally made me laugh, my mood soared. But it dropped down again soon: the two characters got in a fight and renounced their friendship. I felt terrible as I watched and connected to Seth Rogan’s character. The guilt crept its way back inside again. But of course in every comedy the friends make up again, and Pineapple Express was no exception. I watched the make-up scene with a bad taste of guilt. Then a line from the dialogue stuck with me, it repeated in my mind over and over again, and it snapped me out of my bitter numbness.
         I closed the movie as soon as the end titles started rolling and re-opened myspace. I opened a new message addressed to Abby and wrote:

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: sasha.barely.goin.
To: Abbs-of-steel

so i finished Pinapple Express, and it was pretty good. and ironically James Franco's character played a guy who was nice to everyone but since he was always stoned out of his mind no one really wanted to be his friend. and in the end he got kidnapped by a gangster played by this guy from the Office and then Seth Rogan realized that he was an awesome friend so he risked his life to save him.

Well, its not really ironic because James Franco wasn't a bitch who badmouthed one of her best friends in an email. And he was actually nice and gave everyone drugs and stuff...

But needless to say the movie was awesome. Maybe marijuana should be legalized since a movie about it made me calm down enough to realize how stupid i was earlier.

Abby, I am genuinely sorry from the bottom of my heart for writing those things. I was angry, and yeah, I meant them (though you were right, the thing about Chris was beating below the belt) but I shouldn't have been so harsh. I'm really sorry and I want to thank you for being big enough to move past it.

Cuz the truth is that you are not just one of my best friends, but you're one of the best friends I've ever had in my whole life, and that's why it hurts so much when we drift apart. I hope we can be bfff's. Best fucking friends forever. (sorry about the f-bomb, i'm not getting into the habit and i won't ever say the word aloud but it was in pineapple express when seth and james made up from their fight. and cuz i you'd get that i'm serious if i'm using that word, no matter how vulgar it is.)

I sent the email excitedly, eager to read Abby’s response. After an uncomfortable few minutes of waiting I received the reply. I opened it anxiously.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Abbs-of-steel
To:  sasha.barely.goin.

well I'm very glad we could get this all settled out, and the whole connection to marijuana was brilliant (I agree with the legalization of the drug- the war on drugs is dumb as hell lol).
I completely accept your apology and should give one myself: I'm very, very sorry for flipping out (like I said, I am very defensive about Chris, he's the light of my life, so that’s when I started seeing red)...trust me, I was worried that I wouldn't move past it, but I realized that we have to, and I need you right now Sasha. I need my friends right now, no matter how much I don't like to admit it.

And trust me, we will be bfffs. I rarely say that too, you know my thing with trust, probably better than anyone. I don't try to drift away from anyone, and I certainly will try my best not to with you, or Meg, or Jeff...Tell you the truth Sasha, I've always had issues with keeping friends. I don't have to worry about that with you, sometimes I forget that, but in the bottom of my heart, I always know you're there and maybe that’s why it seems like I take advantage of you. I'm sorry if I ever do.

~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~
         “Ready to go?”
         All of Abby’s stuff was loaded into a van in front of my house. My parents, Lucy, Abby and I stood beside it facing the driver, Abby’s older brother, Jack. Abby nodded but didn’t say a word. As always Abby didn’t show any signs of sadness: no tears, no frowns, nothing.
         “Thank you so much,” Abby said as she hugged my mom and then my dad.
         Lucy’s eyes were watery. Lucy was always open about her feelings, even more so than I was. Abby hugged her and rubbed her back comfortingly. Like a big sister. Lucy and Abby had grown closer since Abby moved in, all three of us had really.
         Abby turned to me. Her eyes were still dry. So were mine. We hugged for a really long time, but knowing that it would be the last time made it seem all too short.
         “I love you, Abby,” I murmured.
         “I love you, Sasha,” she said back.
         She gave a weak little smile as she walked over to the car.
         There was nothing extraordinary about what happened next. It didn’t happen in slow motion. It didn’t seem to happen too quickly either. No specific details stuck with me. It was very straightforward. Abby got in the car. The engine started. The car pulled out of the driveway. And just before the car left my line of vision I saw Abby waving from the passenger seat.
         She was crying like a baby.
         Just like in the movies, I walked down the driveway after the car until it disappeared down the road. I lingered there for a moment, then turned and walked to the house. I walked inside, up the stairs, past the Joe-room (the guest room that took the name of my brother who stayed there the longest) that had been renamed ‘the Abbey’ over the last two months, down the hall and into my bedroom.
         Not knowing what to do, I leaned against the foot of my bed and looked at the wall in front of me. Memories flooded my mind. The day I first met Abby, our first party, our girl-talks, walking around the neighborhood, swimming in the summers, sledding in the winters, our favorite songs, our favorite stars, our inside jokes; they all played in my mind like beautiful, nostalgic song. That’s when it hit me: Abby was gone.
         My knees buckled and I slid down the bed frame to the floor. Tears were slipping down my cheeks before I felt the carpet beneath my hands.
         This was the worst first day of summer vacation ever.
         I laughed to myself at the stupidity of that thought. Then I laughed at the irony of it all. The last day before junior year and the first day after junior year had both been all about Abby. On the last day of summer the year before, I had wished that I could let go of my insecurities about her. Now on the first day of summer I was at peace with Abby and her other friendships. I had no resentment, no jealousy, no unspoken aggravation towards her. It had all disappeared. And so had she.
~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~                              ~*~
         The next day I woke up and promptly turned on my laptop. I decided to watch movies for their mind-numbing powers, but also because I was a teenager and therefore had no other plans for how to spend my summer.
         Before I could decide on a movie a window automatically opened on the screen. Apparently I had a new myspace message. I opened it.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Abbs-of-steel
To:  sasha.barely.goin.

Miss you BFFF