2. "Sorry So Short and Sloppy"

Darren's POV on Chapter 1 of As a White Knight on His Steed

1998

I was always a pretty easy-going, confident kid, but I would have been freaking out about my first night away at camp if it wasn't for the comfort of knowing that Chris was asleep beneath me. No – not like that. Come on, now, get your mind out of the gutter! We were eight, remember? But having him in the bottom bunk, even though I couldn't see him or touch him, was like a security blanket for me.

That first summer, Chris just seemed like the epitome of cool. He'd already been at camp for a week before I arrived, so of course he knew all of the counselors, all of the horses, all of the routines, all of the best places to sneak away for a few minutes when we wanted a little break from the rest of the boys. I thought he knew everything.

Looking back, now, I realize that Chris got as much out of our friendship that summer as I did, but at the time I felt like the tag-along little brother – a role I was quite comfortable in, since I'd spent my whole life following my totally awesome real-life brother, Chuck, around like a puppy. I looked up to Chris so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I wanted to be near him all the time.

One week together was nowhere near long enough. When our parents came to pick us up, we convinced them to sign us up for three weeks the following summer.

I must have driven my mom a little crazy on the ride home, talking about Chris non-stop, 'cause I remember her saying, eventually, with that super-patient voice she sometimes got, "Honey, I know you and Chris had a wonderful time together at camp. And I know you're really excited about getting to spend time with him again next summer. But remember, you have other friends at home, and I'm sure he does, too. I don't want you to be too disappointed if he doesn't have time to write to you."

What?!

I knew Chris would write to me. We promised to write to each other. And it didn't matter if I had other friends, or he had other friends. We were each other's best friends.

My mom usually seemed so smart, but in this case, she clearly just didn't get it.

I still have every letter Chris ever sent me. I've re-read them dozens of times, and each one is special in its own way. I think the one I treasure the most, though, is the first one he ever wrote.

Dear Darren,

How are you? I'm fine. But I miss you. I can't wait to see you again next summer. Do you miss me? You're my best friend. Am I still your best friend? I hope so.

Love,
Chris

P.S. Sorry so short and sloppy. I'm writing this in the car on the way home from camp.

End Notes: I'll echo Chris by saying "Sorry so short." I'm guessing that the chapters in this story will vary quite a bit in length, depending on how much Darren has to say about each of the events in As a White Knight on His Steed. I don't want to simply repeat that story, nor do I want to put words in Darren's mouth just for the sake of making this longer. So I hope that you'll be satisfied with some short (but hopefully sweet) chapters, and that I can make up for my limited word count by giving you frequent updates.