“You know what Jesse? I never really saw you like that. That emo-punk boy, who thinks he's so HxC and listens to punk, emo, ska, and metal. You've always just been my best friend, the boy next door who listens to country, power pop, classic rock, and all of my problems.” Jesse and I were lying in the grass under the shade of the giant maple tree that separated our backyards. This was a frequent activity, lying in the grass on a quiet Sunday afternoon, when there was really nothing to do in our small town. Our conversations were sometimes deep and philosophical or stupid and centered around our favourite bands of the moment. Today was one about how people viewed us and how we saw each other.

“Yeah. People always say that you're this total airhead prep. The one that sits in class twirling her hair, blowing bubbles with her gum and applying make up. And although that's partly true, you're not stupid or anything. In fact I think you're probably smarter than me, and it's not like you don't work or anything.” Jesse turned and faced me, now lying on his side. “And I can trust you with anything and everything, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do.” I paused for a moment “Do you realize that we've been friends since we were five. That's ten years with a boy as my best friend. We went though all those years of criticism about being friends and being opposite sexes. Not to mention opposite personalities and styles.” I laughed looking down at our clothing and how they clashed. Jesse was wearing a tight t-shirt with some unknown bands name on it along with a pair of jeans he stole from my closet a couple of weeks ago and red Chuck Taylors. Whereas I was wearing a light green polo shirt with straight legged black jeans and black ballet flats.

“People are always convinced we're dating too. That always makes me laugh. I mean I love you to death and I'm sure I couldn't live with out you, but it's completely platonic.” It was my cue to laugh.

“Platonic, eh? Big word. Someones been reading the dictionary again.”I said in a sing-song voice. Jesse gasped and clutched his chest, right where his heart was.

“I am hurt, Scar. Are you implying that I am too dumb to know a word like platonic?” Jesse tried to hide the smirk on his face. He knew how much I hated being called Scar.

“Oh I would never imply that. It's so much easier to just straight up say it. And once again, for the thousandth time, not Scar. It's Scarlet or Lettie, no Scar.” Jesse cocked his head to the side and said in the most innocent voice he could manage,

“But Scar, I thought I was special enough to call you anything I wanted.”

“Oh you're special alright, just not in that way. You're a more mentally challenged kind of special.” It was my turn to smirk. Jesse turned away for a moment, only to turn back a second later to throw a pile of leaves in my face.

It was these times that I really cherished and enjoyed. The ones I could look back on and laugh about. It was the warm Sunday afternoons in late September that I spent with Jess that really made me believe that being a teenager wouldn't always suck so bad. They made my parents eminent divorce seem just a little less horrible. They stopped me from bursting out in tears every day. But most of all they reinforced the fact that Jesse and I would always be there for each other.