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Grabbing a cold drink from the fridge, I slumped onto the couch, tossing my head back and wondering how in the world my life was so stinking awesome. I propped my feet up on the coffee table, knowing that my best friend Sadie would have a conniption if she saw it—and smiled.
Sadie was ninety eight percent gun power and ran around with a short fuse. I could imagine the outrage in her copper curls and the way she would shove her black rimmed glasses up so that she could properly see me to begin her tirade.
But Sadie wasn’t here, she left for a photography assignment in New York, and wouldn’t be back for two weeks. That was why I was crashing in her apartment. Someone had to feed Argus, and Sadie had deemed me the best choice.
Let it be known that Argus and I barely tolerate each other in the best of circumstances.
I picked up my phone and checked to see if Sadie had messaged me yet. I knew she was excited for the opportunity this shoot presented. Sadie was crazy talented, and this could possibly be the big break she deserved.
I smiled at the thought of Sadie making all her dreams come true. This gig was for a prominent magazine and could launch her from her mild notoriety straight into stardom. I was happy for her, honestly, I was.
It was just that we had a slight disagreement yesterday and here is was almost twenty-four hours later and I hadn’t heard from her. That in and of itself was weird. Sadie and I never fought. We have been best friends for as long as I can remember.
Sure, I can be annoying and not clean up after myself when I was in her apartment. But she can be nosey, bossy, and a know it all—I still love her! She’s my sister from another mister. I thought we had a good thing going.
I took a long pull from my can, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Argus chewing on something.
Grrrr—that dog!
“Give me the letter, you psycho.”
Argus growled at me and then farted. I hate this dog.
Crouching down I grabbed the other side of the envelope and started to tug. It was then that I saw the letter had her familiar scrawl. Grabbing it, I saw that my name was written on the front in Sadie’s typical loopy letters.
Not above bribery I cajoled, “Let’s go outside! You want to see the birds?”
Argus jumped up and in doing so dropped the letter from his mouth.
“Ha! Round one goes to me, fur ball.”
I don’t know if Argus’s answering grunt was him accepting defeat or declaring war. But it didn’t matter. I had a letter from Sadie.
David,
We have been friends for a long time, right? I mean, you sat behind me in Mrs. Hooper’s third grade class and I sat behind you in Mr. Finch’s algebra class. We go back way back, to the ugly years when I was taller than all of the boys and you struggled with acne.
I have to interject here—it was like two zits. However, I remembered Sadie’s long pigtails that I used to tug on during class. When she whipped her head around with an indignant glare, I would always pretend that I didn’t know what she was talking about.
Now, I feel like I need to make one thing clear. Sadie has always been beautiful—stunning actually. She was approached to be a model as a kid, but her parents weren’t willing to cart her around to all the different modeling jobs. They said that she needed to learn how to be a kid first.
Sadie never held any resentment for it. In fact, when she did get older, she found that she liked taking the pictures more than she liked posing for the camera.
We’ve always been best friends, right? I mean, I can remember when I first got a training bra and you laughed yourself sick because I was flatter than a pancake. I remember going to your track meets and crushing on your friends. There were dances, yearbooks, first jobs, and first heartbreaks.
We were inseparable. David, I get that you love me, and I love you back Knuckle Head. But you see, I haven’t exactly been honest with you.
I felt a terrible churning in my gut. Sadie and me, we have always been like peanut butter and jelly. You don’t mess with a classic. What could she possibly mean? Sadie and I told each other everything. Trust me, there were plenty of things I could have been just fine with not reliving with her. Like for example, when Bobby Coen made fun of her for starting her period in the seventh grade.
Sadie never knew, but I went to his house and punched him straight in the nose. How dare he do that to her? Even all these years later, I still feel angry about it, and my hands want to clench into fists. I wondered briefly if Bobby Coen still lived with his mother. I could always go kick his butt again, for old time’s sake.
David, I know that we promised to always be honest with one another. And that is part of the reason why I couldn’t talk about this face to face. I could just imagine the look of pity in your eyes, knowing that I had gone down a road that you never would. It was humiliating, I couldn’t.
This didn’t bode well. I felt anxious and sick to my stomach. Was something wrong with Sadie? Was she pregnant, sick? Whatever it was we could work it out. I clutched the paper a little tighter and read.
I left my cell phone back at the apartment, and I am staying at a different hotel than originally planned. I need to take this time to think and I knew that once I told you the truth you would want to talk me out of it.
But, you see, I feel how I feel. No matter how embarrassed I become, I can’t change that. I know that by writing this letter I took the coward’s way out.
She couldn’t leave me, not like this. I knew that we were just friends, but Sadie balanced me. She was the reason that I kept going when my mom got melanoma and went through chemo. She was always the first person that I wanted to see when I got good news, and the only person I wanted to see when I got bad news.
I yanked the letter back into my hands scanning the contents.
Stop freaking out. I can just see you now pacing back and forth like a lunatic.
I had been pacing, blast Sadie and her insight.
Listen, I need to run. I have a flight to catch. But David, uh, this is so much harder than I thought it would be. I just need to spit it out.
David, I can’t keep being your best friend. It kills me to watch you date other girls. I know that what I’ve done, well, it’s cliché and we promised to never do anything stupid. But David, I am in love with you.
What... What?
I read and reread that sentence over and over again.
I stumbled over to the couch nearly tearing the letter and my ACL in half.
Still I read and reread the words. I am in love with you.
It wasn’t possible.
I knew she loved me, of course, Sadie loved me. We were close, very close. In fact, my last girlfriend broke up with me because she said that I liked Sadie better than I liked her. And she was right, I did like Sadie better.
But love? We never talked about love.
I needed to talk to her—now. I grabbed my phone and dialed her number, as it rang, I remembered that she left her cell phone home.
Ugh, Sadie! How could I possibly sort through these feelings and emotions on my own? How could she drop a time bomb on me like this?
I am in love you.
I wanted to punch something or hike a mountain. My heart was pounding like a drum and there was a strange excitement in my gut. I loved Sadie, but was I in love with her? Snatching the letter, I read the last lines.
Maybe this time away will help to make moving away easier. If they offer me the job in New York I am going to take it. I am sorry to spring this on you now, but I thought you should know.
Love Always,
Sadie
This wasn’t over. Maybe she might not tell me where she is, and maybe she might not have her phone. But there had to be other methods of communication? How did they do it in the old days?
I could still email her. This wasn’t over.