Friday, May 3, 2013

B F or BF?

story by Sandra Yue
illustrations by Joyce Pan, Sharon Lin, and Sandra Yue


Every girl dreams of meeting her Prince Charming. When he comes, he’ll hold her hand and promise to love her forever.

  I also dreamed someone would light up my world. And that’s what Eric did.   We were in the same class during junior high school. We started the conversation because he had met one of my sisters before. She impressed him not only with her ample knowledge but also with her positive attitude. I felt jealous because I wished I could impress Eric like my sister did.

   Since we shared much in common, soon we became friends, though he is a boy and I am a girl. We helped each other with studies. I teased him when he complained about his poor basketball skills, and he joked with me every time when I forgot to bring my assignments.


  He played an important part in my junior high school life. I felt at ease with him. I could be who I really was without pretending to be the good girl everyone thought I was. With me, he often shared the dream that he had never told his other friends. For instance, he hoped he could study in MIT someday. To encourage him, I smiled and patted him on the shoulder saying, “I trust you, I know you can make it!” He looked surprised but returned a smile to me with gratitude.

  I felt my heart beating so fast. Though I was a bit embarrassed, it felt sweeter than candy.



   However, Eric had a lot of admirers for he was tall and cute. Besides, he was the best student in school. Many times when we two were sharing our jokes, some girls would stand at the window and waved at him. Though I acted like nothing had happened and teased him about his popularity, I felt bitter in my heart. As time went by, I even felt angry with him. I refused to talk to him though he came back and tried to make up with me. He looked confused and seemed hurt.


  I felt I wasn’t myself. I would often approach him for no reason. When he was beside me, I felt satisfied. It was not until we became eighth graders that I slowly realized that I liked him more than a friend.

  At the end of the semester, we were closer than before. We spent almost all the time at school with each other. We shared lunch together; he gave me funny nicknames, and we even used each other’s thermos without caring if the other classmates spotted us.
  Then summer vacation came, and so did his birthday. He had told me that he wanted to receive a birthday gift from me, and I promised him that I would.

  Since then, I couldn’t stop thinking what I should give him because it was the first time for me to prepare a gift for someone who meant more than a friend to me.

  At the beginning of the next semester, I went to school with excitement and anxiety. The present that I prepared for him was a cute dolphin key chain with a big smile on its face. I hoped it would make him happy whenever he saw it.

  On the first day of the new semester, when I stepped into the classroom and saw he was on his seat reading as usual, I realized how much I had missed him and how glad I could see him again.

  The whole day I tried to find time to give my gift, but he was always chatting with the others. Finally, at the end of the day, I pulled him aside before he was to go home and quickly gave him the gift. He looked so pleased that I blushed and ran away as fast as I could. But I was sure I heard him laugh happily and say “thank you” behind me. His smooth voice wafted in the air, filling with joy.

  That night, everything that had happened kept replaying again and again in my mind. I was too thrilled to sleep.

  The following day when I showed up in the classroom, he left his seat and came to me, whispering in my ear, “ Thank you for the gift. I have a surprise for you on your birthday too.” I could feel him breathe next to me, so I didn’t turn back. I could smell his sweetness even after he went back to his seat.

  I just couldn’t stop smiling.

  Though we kept a distance from each other in front of our classmates, someone still figured out what was going on between us. For them, making fun of us became their favorite pastime.

  At first, we didn’t mind, but one day after P.E. class, one of our classmates asked me, “ Hey, will you two still be together like this in twenty years?” I glanced at Eric without replying.

  Then a few days later, when I went to cram school, a naughty boy in our class greeted me, “Hi, Eric’s valentine.” He emphasized the word “valentine” and gave an evil grin. Everyone in the room heard his words, and all of them started giggling.

  When I tried to get help from Eric, he just turned away as if he didn’t see me. He must have felt uncomfortable. Then I saw the girl behind him pat him on the back. Their laughter sounded like a sharp needle, slowly stabbing into my heart.

  From that day on, an invisible line gradually tore us apart.

  I kept smiling every day, as usual. So did he, though I couldn’t tell if he felt pain inside. We didn’t talk unless necessary. I avoided every chance of being alone with him, and he had never talked to me first since then.

  But deep inside, I still believed in that birthday promise. I told myself everything would be fine, and I waited.

  Then, my birthday came.

  I practiced how to smile and how to thank him for the gift in front of the mirror for about a thousand times. I knew when it happened, fireworks would burst in the sky and we would be okay again.

  When I walked into the classroom, everyone was surprised to hear my cheerful “good morning.” Though some of them asked me what was going on, I kept the answer to myself.

  I spent the whole day waiting.

  When the day came to an end, I finally realized the cruel truth. I also understood how silly I had been.



  Something inside me broke, like those colorful bubbles that disappeared in the air. However, I laughed much more than any other day in school. Everyone thought that something good had happened to me. What they didn’t know was that if I didn’t keep smiling, I would totally break down.

  When I was ready to go home, one of my friends, Jonathan, came to me. He said, “Though you were smiling all the time, I know something wasn’t right.” He went on, “If you feel really bad, I can be your shoulder. You don’t have to look tough.” Upon hearing the words, tears flooded my face. He stayed with me until I felt alright. On the way home, we didn’t have any conversation, but the silence was soothing.



  After we graduated, I seldom saw Eric. Yet when we met in cram school once, we looked straight into each other's eyes without saying anything. He just smiled gently, and so did I. Then I walked by him as if that short and silent greeting hadn’t taken place at all. 

  I will never regret loving him, but I’m moving on.

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