I gazed over at him, the one who had held my heart for so long. He was quirky. He was intelligent. He was snarky. He was sitting there at the dining room table, teacup in one hand, The Daily Mail in the other. I laid my head back on the sofa and let my mind drift backwards to the day it all started, 12 years ago.
"Hmm, you smell like soup. Oh, and do I detect a hint of strawberry shampoo. You use strawberry shampoo? How cute." I said as I sniffed his cheek. "Are you my friend?' I breathed into his ear, his soft, messy, blonde hair tickling my nose.
"Stop, you pervert. Your breath smells like garlic." He replied with a fragile attempt at anger heard in his voice and squirmed.
"You know," I whispered, ignoring him. "In my homeland, friends kiss as a greeting. It's not an intimate thing like it is here. " My friend's face flushed and his eyes widened with a twinkle of tears. I licked my friend's pudgy pink cheek, tasting the grit of the dirt that probably exists on all little boys.
I heard the shrill chirping off the recess whistle being blown. Playtime was over. The other children begrudgingly shuffled into line to go back inside. The rest of the day, I noticed my friend stealing glances back at me from his seat across the room. Each time, I saw that his face was entirely too red. I began to wonder: had I violated him today? I did not mean to do anything he was not comfortable with. I felt a pain of guilt build in my chest like the oncoming spasm of a hiccup, but the buildup never amounted to anything. I would have to say I am sorry, but goodness, I wanted to be that close to him again as well. Maybe with time I could.
After school, I waited outside the building, by the student pick up, for him. I saw his mum standing a distance away, waiting, just like me. Oh, here he comes. "Hey you." I called to him. "What do you want." He inquired, frowning, condescending, yet shy.
"I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier today." I apologised.
"It's alright."
"I want to be your friend and I hope you want to be my friend, too."
"Sure, okay." He said brightly, but in a scratchy voice. "I have to go leave with my Mum now, see you tomorrow." He retreated.
"Hey space cadet, The cooking timer has been going off for 3 whole minutes, you git." I flew back to reality, with my friend, now adult, waving his hand in front of my face. I jumped off the sofa to go save my croissants.