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Best Friends Forever
by Sarah S, ON, Canada, Age 14

We met for the first time at the bus stop almost twelve years ago, in the
pouring rain the day second grade began. The busses were apparently
cancelled, because they never arrived. Dani Talleson was the new girl that
year, and so I took the liberty of being the experienced one, graciously
offering her a ride. Dani did in fact end up driving with my mom and I,
because hers had already left for work. According to my mom, we spent the
ride talking about the length of our toenails. Since I have no actual
recollection of this, I don’t put too much faith in that story. But the real
point was, we bonded instantly. When you’re seven years old, it doesn’t take
much to become friends in a matter of four minutes. Somehow though, this was
different. This was real. By the time we were making our way to the swing
set at the other end of the schoolyard, we had declared ourselves best
friends. Funny, how all it takes is a statement.

“Best friends forever,” we whispered that fateful day in unison, our
foreheads touching as we locked pinkies. This seemed adequate, despite its
simplicity. And so, with no more than that, it was official. We broke apart
and pumped our legs, seeing who could swing the highest.

Time proved itself as our fiercest opponent, as it morphed us into two
completely different individuals. Dani was outgoing. I was shy. She was a
writer. I was all about science. She was athletic. I’d consider myself
anything but. She was tough as a rock. I was dreadfully sensitive. She could
speak six languages. I spoke one. She considered a computer a big box
designed to confuse a person. I had taken apart so many of them, I could
probably fix one with my eyes closed. She liked action movies. I lived for
the romance ones. In fact, the one thing we really had in common was our
names. She was Danielle, and I was Daniella. People referred to us as Dani
Squared, a terrible name that we spent years trying to rid ourselves of, to
no avail. But no matter how hard the years tried to separate us, they could
never succeed. We were unlike all the others, unable to be separated over
something so trivial as our different personalities.

Back on the first day of second grade, forever was the end of the week, or
month, or year, or however long we were to last. Forever meant nothing more
than it had to millions of other people. And yet, forever developed into
something much bigger. Twelve years, to many, is several thousand forevers.
And so, even as we were jetting off to universities on opposite coastlines,
we knew nothing could break the bond we shared. We had already proven
ourselves a million times over.

On the last night of summer, as the sun was shining its dying rays over the
city, Dani and I sat watching from the beach. And then, with the setting sun
and the city lights as our witnesses, our eyes met, and we both recognized
the significance of this moment. Our pinkies locked as we stared into each
other’s eyes, our lips quietly whispering the same words together: “Best
friends… forever.”