I am just a sixteen-year-old girl, a junior in high school. Three years ago I met a girl, she was a special person. Just by looking at her I knew that I’d be lucky to know her. We were the best of friends and the worst of enemies, stupid teenage girl fights got in the way of something so important to both of us.
In the summer of 2005, I’d just gotten back from my yearly trip to my home state South Carolina, when one of my friends asked if I wanted to hang out at the local Mexican restaurant. Naturally I said yes, anything to get away from the family I had been with for four weeks in a small house.
There were three girls, besides Averi and I the girl who invited me, I did not know, one looked familiar but I couldn’t place the name. We all introduced ourselves, we all went to the same school, and we all had the same interests. The five of us walked over to the ice cream shop to get something sweet to eat after a spicy meal. It was then when we all became friends.
Marissa was the one I bonded with the most, she was amazing. She was an amazing artist and super funny. We clicked almost right away. The five of us split by the end of summer, three of us stayed friends. Rachel (my best friend now), Marissa, and I were a tripod. We did everything together. Then the most horrible thing happened.
The three of us got into a huge fight. Rachel and I went off in one direction, Marissa went in another. The one thing I remember most about my best friend was that she never judged. She taught me that, never label someone. Our favorite saying was “Labels are for soup cans”. We believed that.
About a month ago, I buried my best friend. I believe that if you give someone enough chances, and never judge, you will be amazed. She gave me more chances than I deserved. I am grateful that I knew someone so intelligent. She never judged me, and in turn I never judged her.
I always keep with me that philosophy. I believe in chances. She gave me the chance to know her and she was always teaching me.