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A sophomore with no friends. 


Well she had friends, you see. Past-tense . She lost them all, almost at once. They moved schools, they drifted away, they found new addictions, or simply had enough. 


She felt so crushed, so small, forgotten. The softball team was big, three teams this year. The school, huge, and the world even bigger. In the midst of all these people. The girl was alone. 


A constant shower of loneliness and misdirection. 


She’s lost. Daily reminders of betrayal send tears to her eyes in the middle of class, work and practice, too. Some teachers notice, pull her aside after class and ask what they can do. Nothing. Who once was so bright, so caring and kind. Is crippled in the heart, and damaged in the mind.


She had bad days in the past, like everyone does, and she’d turn to softball to let it out. Laugh with friends, ground balls and aggressively swing that bat. But softball was different now. Softball was the bad days. School was an ice cream bowl of hate, softball was the cherry on top. The girl was miserable.


An assembly, and a familiar face. 


She doesn’t know who to sit by. No one wants her. The girl walks the halls and thinks about hiding in a bathroom. Or maybe walking outside, into the parking lot, across the street, and roaming through the neighborhoods until the assembly, and the hurting, is gone. In the hallways she passes a red-headed teammate. She gathers enough courage to ask if she can stick with her for the assembly. 


The junior teammate smiles, and allows the young sophomore to join her. The teammate is accompanied by her friend, Kris. She’s beautiful, piercing eyes and an insanely contagious smile. The girl found herself smiling at just the sight of her. She didn’t talk to her much then. Too scared, intimidated. Too hurt. Yet she admired her so much, just from one smile. 


A rough day, and goofy gestures. 


Weeks, maybe even months later, the girl met Kris again. Softball tryouts approached, after what seemed like years of miserable open gym practices and fall season. The girl knew they were going to be hard. She watched her old friend, her heart break, flawlessly play the game. The girl was beyond nervous. She spent freshman year tryouts in the bathroom throwing up. This year, she had to prove herself. At first, everything was going wrong. She hated herself once again. 


Then, she was lined up in front of Kris. The girl took her turn, and on the way back to the end of the line, Kristhal stuck her glove out, and the girl high-fived it, hard. Kris smiled her beautiful smile, and just from that, the scared girl felt a little less scared, and a little more noticed. As she got up each time after that, again and again she improved. Again and again she smiled bigger as the high-fives got harder, and harder. 


An admiration 


The girl had played softball since fifth grade. She still only hit well every once and awhile, and missed many balls. She was tossed around from position to position, they just didn’t know what to do with her. She was decent, but she didn’t leave an impression. Kris was almost the opposite. This was her first year, and she was already a star. She seemed to catch every ball hit to her. She hit fantastic while still only learning how to hit at all.


The girl, the lower classman, the JV team captain, the “versatile” player, was in pure awe. She was jealous, even. She wished to only be as good as the junior beginner, but she simply wasn’t, and wouldn’t ever be. 


An invisibility, an injury, an entire season. 


The girl loved softball, but hated it more. She was put on JV, and elected captain. Kristhal, of course, was on varsity. The difference in teams kept them from becoming any closer that year. The girl still watched Kris. She admired her. Her jokes and sass, her athleticism, her friendly attitude, her inviting smile, just simply her. 


As each practice went on, Kristhal got better. Her catches, throws, hits, all impeccable. Until one haunting moment, out on the grass. They practiced sliding, a hard thing to master. The beautiful newbie hurt her ankle. They assisted her off the field and helped her the best they could. She was out for weeks. Her parents didn’t want her going to games she wouldn’t be playing at. Didn’t want the risk of further injury. 


At this time, Kris deserved a true friend, someone to look after her, and comfort her. She deserved someone to carry her weight for her, and love her unconditionally. Yet the girl was too buried in her own loneliness, her own hurt, to reach out. The broken girl emerged herself in invisibility, trying to save herself from pain. Only to realize later she was deepening it.


The entire season passed, The girl didn’t speak to Kris much, except simple conversations. She continued to admire her so much, too much. 


A change in a small heart, a new year


The next school year, one of the girls friends came back. She had moved to Payson, but finally returned. The girl hadn’t felt so excited in what felt like forever. The first few months were wonderful. This new girl, this upperclassman, this junior, knew once again how it felt to have a friend. Someone to meet up with between classes, and eat lunch with. Those months started to wipe away the haunting memories of sophomore year. The smiling girl believed she could be happy again. 


Then,of course, things changed. The returned friend got sick. She missed multiple days at a time. This year, the girl had a car, a place to hide during lonely lunches, a way to escape. After a while, the missing friend seemed to enjoy staying home more than her oldest friend. Every morning she would text the girl, “I’m not coming today, sorry. I feel so bad for leaving you alone! I’ll be there tomorrow.” But she wasn’t there tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next week at all. 


The. Girl. Was. Alone. Again. 


Abandoned. 


Just in time for softball. 


A return of sadness. A need for a friend. 


She was starting to believe the winter months were cursed. She was so happy during the fall, then January destroyed her, year after year.  Her mom decided it was seasonal depression, took her to a doctor. The doctor decided no, not just seasonal. The innocent girl, the left-behind girl, the depressed girl, was put on pills to keep her happy. But loneliness still felt like loneliness. 


She trudged on for the next few months. “Why me?” She thought daily. Was anyone there for her? Did anyone care? After a month of two of questioning it all, question her life, softball started again. 


A new season, a new team. 


This year, tryouts was more nerve-racking than the last. Sophomore year, the girl knew she’d be on JV, and she’d accepted it. Junior year, the girl had two alternatives in her future. A miserable junior still on JV, or benched on varsity. She hated them both, but she wished to avoid any JV embarrassment and be on varsity, and lucky enough, she was. 


Being on that team changed her life. She became good friends with the catcher, who was in her yearbook class. The catcher soon became best friends with Kris. They’d visit each other in class, Kris was an intern for the sports med teacher. The girl and the catcher would go together to visit her while she has nothing to do, or even get treatment for our softball injuries. 


Kris was amazing, so caring, so smart. She became the doctor for everyone on the team. She’d be late to the bus so she could make sure someone else was taken care of and on time. She knew how to help, and she always did. On top of that, she was playing softball as if she had been her entire life. It was only her second season, and she was out for half of the first one. She hit multiple home runs, and made amazing catches as the star center fielder. Each practice she would challenge coach to give her a ball she couldn’t catch, but she caught them all. 


A start of friendship. Real friendship. 


Through these 8th period visits, through laughs at practice, and celebrations at games, the abandoned girl and Kris got closer and closer. 


They sat by each other on the bus. The girl told Kris about her loneliness, about girls who stopped caring. She found that Kris had felt abandoned too. A constant 2nd choice. A third wheel. A let down. 


The girl, the varsity cheerleader, could barely believe it. This girl who was so caring, so happy, funny, and perfect, felt the same type of hurting she did. She loved her so much, after just barely really getting to know her. She knew she wanted to know her even more. 


They started to sit by each other every bus ride, the girl would go to the library after 1st period in hopes of running into Kristhal as she T/Aed. She’d leave her classes and visit her, sit with her after games, simply spend as much time with Kris as possible. 


She got the girl gifts, Dr Peppers, candies, blankets, stuffed animals. She learned what she liked, and showed her she cared. The girl almost didn’t know how to take it, she wasn’t used to someone caring so much. Or paying attention. 


She texted her all day, during school and work. When the girl left practice, Kris would simply say, “Text me when you get home.” Most days the girl forgot. She never had anyone care that she got home safely before. She was used to being the one who brought gifts, listens to rants, and gave hugs. She was slowly realizing that she had someone doing all of this for her. She had a friend, a real friend. More than a friend.


Someone who wants to hang out with her daily. Someone who asks her how she’s doing, and wants to hear it. Someone she could share anything with, someone to relate to. Someone to hug, always. Someone to love. 


After all these years, the girl finally found her someone. And her someone was Kris. 



August 24, 2019 22:38

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