It was an idly day for the young boy named Olav, the girls were swinging high in their swings. The girls, he couldn't help but notice, looked very pretty in the outfits of there's and he looked away from the scenery to avoid being taunted for thinking this way.
The kind of taunting where the girls would run up and kiss you on the cheek, gross, very gross.
The boys were digging in the dirt, bringing out worms and rich soil and buried things. The boys didn't kiss you on the cheek, they pulled at your hair and threw balls at you.
Now this didn't look pretty to Olav, so he looked away. Only to be met with a taller boy his age peering over him as he unwrapped the sandwich his mother made for him.
He supposed this was an opportunity for friendship. This is how friendships always began in books Olav would read. But the way the boy was eyeing his lunch had told a different story. A quiet moment of silence with playground laughter in the background filled between the two.
"I watched you give your sucker to that girl." The boy said, wagging a finger in the direction of a girl on the swing. Yes, Olav remembered doing that. It was the girl who looked pretty in the outfits and who made his stomach churn. Had this boy secretly found out his little crush?
He nodded, waiting for the stranger to continue.
"I'm hungry, can you share with me too please?" The boy asked, kneeling down to the concrete beneath them and falling on his bottom.
Olav thought for a moment, placing a finger on his chin to show he was. He didn't want to share. If he wanted to share then his mom would've had another baby.
"No." He responded, still holding the sandwich between his hands. He watched the boys face go red as he scrunched his eye brows together. It was like an intense fight for the two.
"Why?" He carefully sounded out the syllables there, being angered by the hypocrisy of him.
Olav could now tell the boy hadn't been someone you wanted to anger, so he quickly racked his head for excuses.
"My mother said to be a gentlemen to girls." He responded. Should he put the sandwich in his mouth? Would it make the boy more angry? Should he call for a teacher?
The boy then wanted an excuse himself- anything really to get a bite of the sandwich. Or any food for that matter.
"What, is she your girlfriend?" That word had immediately set Olav off, he could feel the tiny tears prick his eyes and he claimed today to be utterly horrible. The insult made him see the boy in an evil light.
Oh no. The boy, who had yet to reveal his name was Erling, then became distressed. Distressed because if the boy began to cry, he was in big, big, trouble. He'd have to be scolded by the teachers and that thought nearly made him cry.
"Wait, shh, don't cry-" But it was too late, Olav put the sandwich into his lap and the tears came spilling out of his eyes. He felt really bad crying in front of the playground. If it weren't for school he could be in the comfort of his mother.
Olav couldn't decide which he hated more. School, or the boy who tried and stole his sandwich. Much to Erling's dismay a teacher eventually came to the two, and he too, began to feel distraught.
"Oh no Olav, what's wrong? Had you hurt yourself?" He looked up with puffy eyes to realize the nice lady was here. The one who's hands smelled like inhalers.
He couldn't talk but only choked out cries, and this is when Erling realized he probably shouldn't have attended here in the first place. The whole playgrounds eyes darted to crying Olav, emotional and sad.
Erling's cheeks went red. As a 6 year old, much nothing hurt more than making a kid cry and getting caught.
That was the two's first meeting.