The first day of school is always terrifying, though it's especially so when you're not in a class with your friends. Second grade was full of endless possibilities. But who cares when you only get to see friends once each day?
That's when I met Nick. Nicholas Murphy, the most popular boy in my grade. He was shockingly nice to me. Making quiet small talk in line to go to lunch. Cracking jokes about our music teacher's checkered ties. It was the classic second grade friendship. We were friends, and nothing else. We stayed friends for most of the year, even though he was popular and I wasn't. Nick didn't seem to care, so I didn't either. But near the end of the year, we grew apart. I made new friends. He went back to his friends.
I didn't talk to Nick at all throughout third and fourth grade, maybe occasionally waving to each other in the hallways, and I was fine with that. Eventually, I forgot those memories of us playing on the playground, throwing a foam football back and forth, or just talking on a bench. I assumed he wiped those memories clean as well.
My dad always said that friends come and go. I thought that being friends with Nick would be that type of situation. But sometimes, your past becomes the present.
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