Preface: My First Friend
It all started one day at school. I was passing by a lunch table, looking for the boy who stole my lunch box. His mom forgot to pack him one, so he selfishly decided he wanted mine. Not that my mother remembered to pack me one either, but as I was neglected by her from a young age, I learned to make my own ham sandwiches.
On my way there, I passed a girl who was sitting all alone, eating a sandwich. A tuna sandwich. It looked so good at that moment, and with that boy nowhere in sight, I wanted her sandwich more than anything. She sat there, smiling, her long brown hair perfectly brushed around her face, biting her sandwich so daintily it almost looked like she was fake.
"Hey, I'm Sam," I introduced myself. I wanted to get past the small talk and take her sandwich, but I wasn't that mean.
"Hey, I'm Carly." So Carly, want to give me your sandwich, I thought.
"Can I have that sandwich?" I tried to be polite.
"No way, get your own!" What a jerk. Was I going to stand there and let that girl eat her sandwich instead of giving it to me? No. I am Sam Puckett and I refuse to be ordered around. So, I grabbed her sandwich and pushed her off the bench. What I wasn't expecting was for Carly to get back up, rip the sandwich out of my hands, and push me down. But, apparently, she had more guts than I thought, and she did just that.
"You're alright," I said, sitting down next to her. I was amazed at how brave she was, most kids wouldn't dare to take their sandwich back, much less to push me too, but she did both, and I respected her for it. She smiled at me, and we spent the rest of the lunch period talking. She even gave me a pudding cup.
I walked into my house. "I'm home!" I screamed. Of course, no one answered. My twin sister, Melanie, was probably over at a friend's house; she never spent much time at the house, claiming she needed to "focus on her studies," which she says she can't do at our house. My mom was most likely out; flirting with some guy, in the hopes of receiving a meal discount or a free couch.
So, just like every other day, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a snack, (this time a pork chop), and went upstairs to my room. I sat on my bed, emptying my backpack. Now, I didn't actually do my homework, but I at least tried to convince myself every night that tonight would be the night I would work. I was never convinced. Instead, I set out to find something else to take up my time.
The pork chop was long gone, and I licked my fingers to savor the last drops of sauce. As I tasted the sweetness, I reflected over my day. That's when I realized something very important; I just made my first friend! Sure, I'd been friendly with people before, but I never had a true "friend." This was a large feat, and I felt the need to share. Unfortunately for me, no one was around to hear my exciting news, so I decided to write it down. I was never big on journals or diaries or whatever, but I felt this needed to be documented. I dug through my bag and found a piece of loose-leaf paper. Then, I felt my way through the depths of my backpack again, finally pulling out a worn pencil.
I printed everything I thought was necessary on the first line of the page. I felt so proud, that I even took ten precious minutes of my day just to search the house for tape. Eventually, I found some. Proudly, I broke off a tiny piece, stuck it on the top of my sheet, and attached it to the wall just to the left of my dresser. I sat back on my bed, gazing happily at my list. Well, technically there was only one thing on it so far, so maybe it couldn't quite be qualified as a list, but I planned to expand it over the years to come.
My first friend, I thought, more in a trance than reality. Carly Shay. I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship. Sure, I had a few doubts whether or not she could last as my friend, but when I looked back at the list, I excitedly recalled how she stood up to me, and my doubts washed away.
I lay down on my bed, glancing at the paper out of the corner of my eye. I made my first real friend, and there was no one to tell it to. But was I sad? No. There was rarely anyone around. But such large news as this should somehow be commemorated, and that's exactly what it was.
March 25, 2003: My first friend (Carly Shay)
The words seemed to glow on the page, glorified by their special spot on my wall. This was a great day.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it! Please review. :) Hopefully, the story will improve over time. This chapter, though not a filler, is more of an intro, a preface, to the rest of the story, just to show how the idea for Sam's List of Firsts started. The first several chapters will probably be more like an outline of her life, and new events on the list, but as time goes on, the list will affect her more and possibly even cause trouble… I'm not completely sure yet, but please bear with me through these first several chapters while I get the story set up. Thank you!