Once every year or so, he would come to visit me on the island, just to cut my hair. The first time, we were seven or eight, and he cut my hair a little too short in the back, causing two locks of it to stick up in different directions. Of course, the rest of my hair was layered and uneven and Dave just stood there, staring at me bashfully. "Sorry, Harley. I think I messed up a bit." Of course, I would stare at my reflection in the mirror, sigh, pay close attention to the two locks in the back before sighing again and setting the mirror down slowly, turning to him. Then, I'd smile and hug him, giggling, and saying, "Are you kidding, Dave? I love it! It's wonderful! Aaah thank you, thank you, thank you!"
From then on, whenever he came to visit, I would have Dave cut it the same way. Afterwards, we would explore the island together before he had to leave again. Throughout all those years, I had slowly started to fall for him. One day, it was storming, we were fifteen and he was getting back on the plane, saying his goodbyes. We were yelling at each other through the rain, just to hear one another.
"I'm sorry, Jade, I can't visit you anymore!"
"What? Why?!"
"Bro says I need to focus less on you and more on school so I get into a good college! I'm really sorry, I'll miss you!" I grabbed his hand as he turned, I had to tell him.
"Dave, I have to say something!"
"Then say it! I have to go!" My mouth slowly opened as I tried to form the words, trying to let them escape.
"I love you."
"What?"
"I…"
"You what? Just say it!"
"I love you!"
"Look, I can't hear you, and I have to go. Message me later?" As he pulled away, my grip on his hand tightened and I pulled him closer before he met his lips with mine. Then, I let him go for the last time.
We talked on Pesterchum for a while, but soon, like every relationship where they don't see each other, we faded away. Years later, I moved to New York City and found a job writing novels about my dreams, called The Adventures of the Crazy SBURBians.
I tried to block the memories of the ironically uncool albino from my memories, but I just couldn't. Especially with all the selfies of him hanging around my apartment. I was planning on taking them down, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. How could I? He had been my best friend for years on end. I hadn't really expected to see him again, especially since we were both twenty something. But, if I had, I wouldn't have expected to see him in New York City in a small little bookstore.