Israel

It was December. I was probably 5 years old, at least. When my mother heard about new neighbors, well…she’s a extrovert, so she did her “extrovert thing”, as my dad called it.

So, my mother dragged me and my older sister, Cassandra next door. I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect. My mother had told me that the family had a kid about my age. I didn’t have friends. I didn’t want friends.

But there I was. Standing in front of the door, hidden behind Cassandra, who was 12 at the time. When the door opened, it revealed a tall man with dirty blonde hair, a hat from the 40’s, and scary blue eyes, almost the color of ice.

Behind him was girl…my age, with perfect blonde hair and the same scary eyes as her dad.

It was that moment when our eyes met. When something…grew between us.

“Umm, hi,” I whispered to the girl. She gave me a half-hearted smile.

“Hi,” she whispered back. “What’s your name?” I smiled back at her.

“Israel Gonzalez,” I replied in a low voice. “Who are you?”

“I’m Olivia Sanders.”

• • • • •

As the years went by, we became close. No, more then close. We were practically inseparable. Like Robin and Batman, Rizzoli and Isles, Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. The best of friends.

It seemed to be perfect, just us. And we liked it that way. Well, at least I did. As me and Olivia got older, she would always stare at other girls with wanting.

“Why can’t we sit with other people Israel?,” she asked at lunch one day in the 7th grade. “Wouldn’t it be nice, not just you and me? Alone, all the time?”

“But…don’t you like it?,” I questioned insecurely. Olivia shrugged.

“I do, but what would it be like, with other people?” She never brought it up again, but the question lingered.

A few months later, Olivia’s dad received a new job, one that would require the two to move towards downtown.

The night that they had to move, I managed to put on a brave face for Olivia. I could tell that it was hard on her, so I acted brave.

But the second they left, I ran to my room and cried. And cried. I cried for what seemed all night. It was too much. Olivia was my best friend. She was my only friend. We did everything together. Now what? We wouldn’t live next door anymore. For a 13 year old with only one friend, it seemed like the end of the world. And for our friendship, it was

• • • • •

After Olivia moved, she distanced herself from me. She tried out for cheerleading, although we would always make fun of the them. She started to hang out with basketball players and popular kids. She seemed to be a million miles away.

And what made it worse was how it seemed so…easy for her to leave me. To forget about me. Leaving me alone to sit by myself.

• • • • •

It was finally out last year in middle school. By then , I had become accustomed to being by myself. It became somewhat of a lifestyle, really. And I had the joy of going to high school the next year.

But half way through the school year, my whole world was flipped upside down. In January, I heard that Olivia had a boyfriend. At first, I wasn’t concerned. Olivia moved on and I was fine with that. But then I heard who it was.

Samual Lopez. The exact same person who me and Olivia would constantly teases about how he changed girlfriends more than underwear. The same person I knew would break Olivia’s heart. And that could not, and would not happen.

• • • • •

“Olivia!,” I called on the way out of school that day. Quickly, she turned around. When her eyes met mine, a look of confusion appeared on her face.

“Oh, umm, hey Israel,” she replied politely.

“Cut the crap, why are you dating Lopez?,” I demanded. Her face went white.

“Oh, you heard,” she muttered in a whisper. “Israel, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, it kinda is!,” i snapped. “You are dating the guy who I could bet my life will break your heart in a month.” Olivia crossed her arms.

“Israel, it’s not in your jurisdiction to dictate who I date or not,” she shot back.

“It kinda is, because I used to be your friend, and I don’t want to see you to get hurt!,” I cried in despair.

“Well, we aren’t friends anymore, are we?,” Olivia asked demandingly. “And frankly, your being to sensitive about this. You’ve always been this way. Israel, I’ve found other people. You need to understand that I don’t need you anymore!” I don’t need you anymore. Those were the most painful words I ever had to hear. It would have been better if she had just slapped me across the face.

“Oh,” I sneered. “That’s how it is. I’m just a piece of a garbage, isn’t that right? I mean, you said it. You don’t need me.” Olivia’s eyes widened in terror and sadness.

“No, Israel, I-,” she started.

“No, no, you meant it, I know,” I mumbled angrily. And with that, I stormed off towards the streets of Chicago.