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My Best Friend
When I look back and try to remember how my best friend and I met, I don’t remember much. What I do remember is that I was going into sixth grade, at a whole new school, I was scared, and if the butterflies that I knew were racing in the pit of my stomach raced any harder, I was sure that would be the death of me. I was going to keel over and die from nervousness. My new school had picture day before school even started. After my picture was taken, I was ready to leave with my mother when, my mother started up a conversation with another girl’s mom. Little did I know, that girl would end up being my best friend.
An uneventful last summer hurrah went by, and I found myself alone at a new school, utterly awkward and at the brink of death by butterflies. It was my first year with a locker, and I clutched that combination like it was the rope keeping me from falling down a cliff. When I got to my locker, number 520, low and behold, locker 521 was occupied by that girl. She had strawberry blond, stick straight, hair, and she was at least a head shorter than I was. She seemed nice but kind of shy. Of course, I was very shy too. I know it was that our last names were listed after each other that made our lockers side by side, but I like to think it was the fates and a bit of luck that brought us to the very place where our friendship would soon begin.
Months later, our school was holding a battle of the books competition. I was getting ready for a class, when she asked me if I would like to be on her battle of the books team. I said yes, and right then and there I became the fourth member of the Book Wormz battle of the books team.
I loved being on that team. Those recesses spent answering questions about books, believe it or not, were some of the best recesses of my life. Now, we didn’t end up winning the competition. We came close with second place, but I had gained something better than a champion title. Call it whatever you’d like, but I had gained my best friend, the girl I met on picture day.
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