“Yes.” He doesn’t look like he’s joking, and my heart jumps up and down; my belly does a weird flip-flop, and it feels like there are a million birds flapping their wings inside me.
“I like that.”
“Good, because when I’m friends with somebody, they have to be my friend forever,” he tells me seriously. “And if you ever leave me, I’ll be the saddest boy in the world.”
“I wouldn’t want to make you sad. Ever.” I nod, and my pigtails fly back and forth, making him laugh.
“Good. I don’t want to make you sad, so I think we can be forever friends.”
Again, my belly does something funny, and I smile at him. He’s nice. Even though he is rich—not like me and momma—I like being his friend.
“So, where are your other friends?” I ask him before I look at the playground. It looks like nobody else knows him.
When I look at JD again, I notice he’s staring at me. He tugs on my pigtail and says, “If you’re going to be my forever friend, I don’t need others. And maybe I can marry you one day.” His words make my face get very, very hot.
But then I laugh, and shaking my head, I say, “I don’t know if my momma will let me get married.”
“But you shared your sandwich with me, and if you share stuff, that means you’re married. And then you make each other happy.” He shrugs and smiles at me. “I guess I should ask how old you are? I'm eleven.” He sounds like he knows everything. It’s like he’s all grown up and he’s teaching me what the world is like.
"I'm eight." I look at the playground again and wonder just what would happen if I told Momma I am getting married. We sit quietly for the rest of the lunch break, and soon, the bell rings to tell us to go back inside.
“That’s good. I think me being older than you is better because a husband should look after his wife.”
“I like that,” I tell him, giving him a smile. “I’ll be your wife then.”
“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow,” JD tells me. “And don’t forget, we’re sitting together.” He salutes me as if he were a soldier, and I giggle. When he smiles, I memorize it like my teacher taught me to remember things, and I watch him go back inside.
I didn’t even ask him what class he’s going to. But I guess like he said, I’ll see him tomorrow. And suddenly, my day isn’t as bad as I thought it was.
I race into the house, finding Momma at the kitchen table. She’s looking at papers, and she doesn’t look happy. I stop at the door, my stomach making a strange grumbling sound, and she looks up with a smile.
“Sweet girl,” she says, holding her arms open to me. “Come here.”
I run into her hug and press my head against her shoulder. I love Momma’s hugs. She always makes me feel safe, just like Daddy did.
“Momma, I’m getting married,” I blurt out, knowing that if I don’t tell her now, she’ll never know.
Her laugh makes me shake too. She allows me to stand before asking, “Married? To whom, sweet girl?”
“JD. He’s a boy at school. We had lunch together, and he’s nice. He has pointy hair, and he smiles nice too.” My excitement makes her laugh even more.
“You know you shouldn’t get married until you’re at least forty,” Momma says in her serious voice.
“Forty?”
Even though she nods, I can see her smile brightening. It’s a better one than before when I used to tell her things that happened in my day. And I’m glad I made Momma happy.
“I guess I can wait. I’ll let JD know tomorrow.”
“You do that,” she tells me, tugging on my pigtail, which makes me think of my new friend. I don’t know why he chose me, but I know that I’m happy because I have someone to talk to at school. Even though he is older than me by three years, I’m happy he’s someone I can call a friend.
Maybe life won’t be so lonely.
And maybe Momma will also like him.
I do.
Chapter Two
JD
Thirteen years old
As my father’s town car rolls through the wet streets, my mind is on the girl that’s somehow become my world. I’ve spent the last two years learning about her, getting to see her come out of a shell she seemed to hide behind. But I can never tell my parents about her because they’ll never agree to our friendship.
As the car pulls to a stop, I glance over at Dad who’s on his phone. He doesn’t seem to notice we’re two blocks away from my school. His fingers tap on the screen, and I wonder just what’s going through his mind. When I was young, I thought he was the coolest man in the world, but over the past couple of years, I learned just what my father was like.
With money, with his job, he became cold, as if nothing mattered except the project he was working on at the time. I’m still not completely sure what he does. I know he goes into an office every day, but other than that, I’ve never spent time around him to learn who he is.
Not because I didn’t want to.
But because he never allowed me to.
“Dad,” I call to him, and he finally looks up.
“I have a meeting. You can run up to the building,” he tells me before reaching over to ruffle my hair. He doesn’t mention that it’s raining heavily and I don’t have a coat on. “Big boys can brave this weather.” He looks so happy with himself as if he made a joke, but I don’t find it funny.
My chest aches at the way he’s always treated me. Even though I’m his son, his only child, I’m still not important to him. One day, I’ll move out of his house, and I’ll never speak to him again.
Anger surges in my stomach and I push open the door. I’m too upset to let him look at me again. Because if he did, he’d see me cry. I’m late for school, and it’s lunchtime. I should’ve stayed home, but Dad insisted I come in for the last few periods. Good boys don’t skip school. It’s his fault we’re late, but I can’t tell him that because he’ll only slap me for being rude.
Since it’s raining today, I know where I’ll find Autumn. The cafeteria is busy. Even though I hate being in here, I will happily sit inside for Autumn. She finds it difficult to concentrate when it’s noisy, but it’s so wet outside we can’t go to our favorite spot under the tree.
At our corner table, I watch Autumn scribble her notes. I know she enjoys the sound of rain falling on the roof. She once told me it makes her heart happy.
Over the past few years, I’ve noticed her smile more. When she was younger, the pain in her eyes used to make my chest hurt. But slowly, she’s become a happier, carefree girl. I hope that it’s also because of our friendship.
She means a lot to me. Even though my folks haven’t met her yet, her mom has accepted our friendship, and she always makes me feel welcome when I visit their place. After her dad died, her mom had to move, and they found an apartment not too far from the park; which is good since we can take walks without my folks seeing us.
It’s not because I don’t want her to meet them, but I know they won’t be happy with me having a friend who isn’t rich. Autumn and her mom may not have a fancy house or go on vacations every few months, but there’s something warm about their apartment. It feels like a home.