Threads

Pickup, the end of the day. Freedom from the nightmare known as school. I tremble, my hands squeezing the straps of my book bag tight. Nobody could pry my hands off of the dark blue, rough and smooth straps. They were locked in place.

My eyes scan the entrance of the building, the bronze brick walls towering over students' heads. Scanning across the clearing one more time to be sure, my eyes detect no threats. No kids, that would hurt. I breathe deeply and push open the glass door. Conversations fill my ears, the dull silence slinking away. My eyes darted down at my pink, beaten sneakers. That’s when I began to slink to the grass. 

Avoiding eye contact was difficult because of how many kids there were, but nothing is impossible. Dragging my feet across the damp concrete, I hear kids talk. About others, about themselves, about schoolwork, it didn’t matter. None of it was relevant to me. I peer up from my sneakers, a smile building on my face. Worry flying out of my blood as I put a foot on the grass field. I was safe. No one came near the grass. No one would want to risk their shoes just to interact with me. I smile smugly. I win. Sighing helped me eliminate all the remaining anxieties, and I felt safe. 

“Hi, Elle!” I quickly whipped my head around to look at the person who had called my name, forcing myself to not jump out of my own skin. 

”Wyatt!” Wyatt was pale, with ocean blue eyes, his hair gently parted and combed. Wyatt smiled, his smile lighting up the cloudy and gloomy day. Wyatt had been friends with me ever since first grade. Doing drama together has always been my favorite memory. While bad friendships crumbled like cookies, our friendship withstood so much. Our friendship was something special. It survived the earthquake that separated us for so long, separate classes. Thin threads hung on, desperately trying to preserve this phenomenal friendship. Sadly, it seemed impossible. One more shake and the threads would snap, leaving us both stranded from each other. 

“This is truly the last day, huh?” Wyatt chuckled, sadness flashing in his cheerful eyes for a split second. I swallowed; I was moving schools away from my few friends, including Wyatt. An awkward pause fills the air as I struggle to grasp the right words. All I can do is a curt nod. Wyatt’s smile fades a little bit. I meet his eyes. Ocean blue, just like mine, twinkling like stars in the sky. 

“Well,” Wyatt begins, looking around at his surroundings. The grass was bright green, some growing out of the cracks in the concrete. The cars lined up against the sidewalk, picking up many children. “I’m grateful I got to meet you.” Wyatt finished, his warm smile returning. I feel warmth, but a pit of sadness rests in my soul. 

“I’m happy I got to meet you too.” Memories of Wyatt race through my mind, the Tamagotchi in theater, art class, lunch, you name it, but it doesn’t matter when, where, or how; as long as we did it together, I was happy. 

My eyes glisten with tears as I think of our happy times together. Suddenly, Wyatt’s eyes light up like fireflies on a night as his perfect smile contradicts my crooked teeth. Hope wells up in me as Wyatt scrambles through his backpack and pulls out a small slip of paper and a pencil. Curiosity sparks in me as I see him scribbling something down on the paper. When he finished, suspense was eating me up like a spectacular meal. Steadily, Wyatt extends his arm to give me the slip of paper. I glance up at him, give him a pleasant look, and open the paper. It had an email on it. Wyatt’s email. 

“So we can talk,” Wyatt hauled his backpack over his shoulders again. “So we can stay friends.” Overwhelming happiness takes over me as I look at the slip of paper. This friendship won’t die after all! I could almost feel the threads that used to keep us together barely strengthened. 

I glanced around my surroundings; all the gloomy things seemed to scramble away as joyful sights took place. The bright blue sky, friends laughing under the brick arch, and even the dark clouds seemed lighter. Suddenly, rain came down as a slight drizzle. I blinked in shock as the raindrops began to fall on me. Wyatt started to laugh, so I joined in. But the happiness didn’t last long. Wyatt’s black van drove into the lot, and I could feel my drop. 

“Well,” I look at Wyatt. His smile was gone, and a slight frown took its place. I extended my arms for a hug, and Wyatt accepted. I hugged him tight; I didn’t want to let go. I was so scared I was going to lose him as a friend. But I had no choice as I forced myself away from Wyatt. Rain was still beating on our clothes, and Wyatt and I exchanged waves as he crawled into his van. 

“Wyatt!” I call out, my voice squeaking a little bit. Wyatt turns, his ocean-blue eyes syncing with mine. Forcing myself to hold back tears, I finally mutter. “I’ll miss you.” 

Wyatt smiled one last time. “I’ll miss you too, Elle.” Wyatt disappeared into his van as the rain came down harder. It used to feel like feathers, but now it came down like bullets. I watched the van drive away, and my heart sank to the ocean's depths. Thoughts race through my head, good and bad, but one stands out the most. Will I ever see you again? I can only imagine Wyatt putting on his usual smile and happy face, responding softly. “Yes.”