Zip Code: 70503
By Rebecca Stanton
I only seven and you only eight.
Complete opposites, yet drawn together uncontrollably.
We actually met at swimming lessons and were in
the same class.
Later we learned that you would be moving in next door,
my first girl neighbor and best friend.
I remember:
Spinning in circles in your new lofty living room
clad in beige,
Sliding into the pool every which way but upright,
Tanning on the driveway eating Chips Ahoy cookies,
Bike rides to the fire station so we could visit with
our heroes and eat food out of the out of the vending machines,
Skipping to the snow cone stand and then savoring every last drop of that sugary juice,
Spending hour-less days sitting in front of the computer screen creating lives on the Sims,
Playing rock star and filing,
Dancing in your window belting Spice Girls’ music into a hairbrush,
Painting our nails like the rainbow,
Saving Lucky and many other strays,
Making camps and tents throughout our houses,
Waking up on Christmas morning more excited about sharing our gifts than
actually opening them,
Creating code names for all our secret crushes,
Sharing all our dreams late at night when we couldn’t sleep,
Movie nights with Pat, Eric, Jared, and Pete,
Late night Starbucks runs and reading strange books at Barnes and Noble,
Experiencing my first band camp and your second,
Meeting new friends and starting our own circles,
Learning to drive yet not independent,
Waiting for Drew, your new baby brother, to enter this world.
Still next door neighbors, but really miles apart.
Growing older and going our separate ways.
No longer the one we share our deepest desires with.
Riding in the car every morning to school, yet oddly unconnected.
Listening to music that doesn’t fill the silence.
Believing our friendship would never end, but now only hoping that it can last.
I only sixteen and you only seventeen.
>> Post your comments
>> Notify me of future VSA arts literary calls
Comments