All throughout my Middle School and some of my High School years, when most people were starting to join cliques, I didn’t quite fit in with anyone. I was that girl. You know the one? The loner, weirdo girl with no friends? Well, I was that girl.
I had no real friends. I was awkward, silent, and creepy. The only person that wasn’t afraid to speak to me was a punk rockish girl named Jesse who seemed to go out of her way to say hi to me—not in a good way, but in an “I feel sorry for you” way. Sometimes her constant habit of trying to be nice would annoy me because she seemed friendly, but she never wanted to really hang out or get to know me.
It wasn’t until years later (after we had truly become friends) that I found out the reason for her supposed friendliness.
Years later, while we were hanging out, I finally asked her about it.
Me: “Do you remember when we were in Middle School? What was with the pity hellos? Why did you do that?”
Jesse: “Do you really wanna know?”
Me: “Yes.”
Jesse: “You were the one.”
*awkward silence*
Me: “What do you mean by that?”
Jesse: “Well, if anyone in the school was going to snap and eventually blow half the school away, it was going to be you. I just wanted you to think I was nice. You know… just in case.”
Touché, Jesse. Touché. You were wise beyond your years and for that... I let you live.
