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Rated: E · Short Story · Young Adult · #1840563
I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us - Taylor Swift
It was the summer of '10 when everything started. That first day at sleepaway camp when something clicked between us and we threw ourselves into a friendship. A friendship - what exactly is that? The Merriam-Webster definition provided is "The state of being friends". Then I ask myself what is a friend? Again, I look to Merriam-Webster in search of an official definition, "One attached to another by affection or esteem". Yet, neither of these definitions seem to suffice for me. What is the exact state in itself? How much affection or esteem do you have to have to be a friend to someone? This, however, is not a story of mere friendship. This is the story of us.

July & August:
The summer had brought many things. A short romance for me that had ended in failure. A short, better romance for him that had also ended in failure. New friends. Memories that would last forever. Then, there was the last day of camp, where we had talked well past curfew. Two weeks after camp, we saw each other again at a batmitzvah of a mutual friend. Our friendship grew stronger that day. I had thought that we would be friends for a long time to come.

October:
Another barmitzvah came around on Thanksgiving weekend and we both attended. At our mutual best friend’s house, I had been sitting on the ground against his legs and he had protected me from a couple of my guy friends swinging on the hammock beside us, purposely trying to hit me. That feeling of protection overwhelmed me and I felt myself grow closer to him again. Later that weekend, he was caught up with another girl, a recently acquired good friend of mine. It didn't matter to me at that point, though. That night, we had our first fight. Almost all of the time, my curiousity gets the better of me and puts me in bad situations. It was a simple, small fight and we made up in a few minutes. Our next fight, we weren't so lucky.

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