The first thing I remembered about her, was how tall she was.
She was 17 and I was 15 – yet she stood at a tall 5ft 8" whereas I at a measly 5ft 3". She was American, and her accent amused everyone.
The way she pronounced words like 'yoghurt' and 'garage' even made me smile. That was one of her gifts – she brought smiles to everyone's faces.
The first time I met her, we barely said anything but a hello. She shot me a curious glance, but that was about it.
In our group of friends, she would hang out with the talkative ones – yet she would shy away from the attention. She was pretty, but not beautiful. Although being tall, she didn't strike me as the model type – just your average pretty girl, who barely turned heads to look her way.
Never would I have guessed back then, we would become the bestest of friends.
The next time I spoke to her, she was on my friend's msn. She recognised my name and spoke to me, distracting me from my chemistry homework for a good two hours.
A new observation I made about her, was her biting sarcasm. She was interesting – so different from those other British girls. I felt ashamed of my earlier observation of her being 'average' – she was far better than that.
Meeting her again after that incident – I saw her in a different light. We had talked often since, and to see her again felt strange. Yet, when she saw me – her face broke out into a huge grin.
"Nathan!" She smiled brightly.
The awkwardness I had felt earlier completely dissipated. Suddenly, we were talking about everything and nothing. I teased her about her accent and the fact she looked more 14 than 17; and she in turn teased me about my height.
The whole experience felt strangely surreal – as if reality still hadn't hit me yet. I wasn't the type to make friends quickly, and yet here I was making friends with an American girl.
There was a part of me relieved she was only in London for a holiday. It would mean that she wouldn't get to know my ugly side that led to some turn away from me in disgust; others to bully me. However, there was the part of me that didn't want her to go. She was funny, she was different and she liked me for who I was.
Two weeks later, she'd gone back home.
For a whole week, I was in a state of numbness. She had started to become something of a constant in my life – and though I didn't want to admit it: I missed her.
I really really missed her.
And that was just plain weird for me. I wasn't used to missing anyone, unless you counted back when I left my American friends at the tender age of 9. Heck, this was the first time I missed a girl. A girl who probably couldn't give a shit about me.
I started listening to weird songs about missing people, without the romantic implications. And that was even stranger – although she was pretty, I felt nothing for her. No butterflies, no blushing or whatever I'm meant to feel in a crush...nothing.
But I still missed her.
None of my friends realised – they all forgot about her after a few weeks. Those friends of mine that had hugged her so tightly lived as normally. Soon I managed to continue living as normal, but I never forgot her one bit.
I remember when she first instant messaged me on facebook and msn. It felt great – that she still remembered my name, that she even remembered my existence. Sure, the time difference sucked but we managed.
Months passed, and we grew closer.
Then the next thing I knew, one of my best friends was in an online relationship with her. When he told me who she was – I couldn't believe it.
I hated the fact she was happy with him, London was probably a fading memory to her. I hated the jealously that coursed through my veins when he talked about her in class – while I tried to concentrate on the stupid equations.
That was when we had our first argument, over her boyfriend.
I didn't want her to be with him, online relationships were just stupid. I'd only had one relationship in my life – but at least that was a physical one. How can you possibly connect through an electronic device?
However, it wasn't just him we argued over – we started to argue over everything. The fact, she got on so well with my best mates...and my worst enemy. I hated the fact that she liked him. I still remember the times when he took the piss out of me, constantly bullying and belittling me. Our friendship reached to the point, we couldn't even speak to each other anymore.
Then something changed inside me – the realisation I couldn't live without her. She became my best friend, the girl who'd always like me for who I am; no matter what my imperfections were. I was thankful that we made up, thankful we were good again.
Then, she and her boyfriend broke up, only after a month and a half together. When I saw his relationship status change to single, I couldn't help but laugh. Who was the one who said it wouldn't work out?
Grinning, I wrote a comment on his relationship status – I told you so.
Not long after that, I received instant message after instant message by her. I stared at her angry messages incredulously as she sent the insults in my face.
SCREW YOU DICKHEAD.
It turned out, he broke my best friend's heart. Yet, I knew she would get over it and she soon did – within a couple of weeks, she'd moved on and we could have a laugh.
Two years passed, and I moved onto the last year of school. School got harder, and so did I. I felt stupid for still missing that same girl. Our friendship certainly hadn't died, but I hated that she hadn't come back to London. Her parents couldn't afford the distance which upset me.
She'd said one thing to me once:
"We're good together".
Where was she now?
It only took one call to change everything.
When I picked up my phone one day while I was on a break in my workplace to answer it, it was her voice shouting my name; breathless in excitement.
"Turn around." I heard her say.
Turning around and placing my phone gently on the table in front of me, I saw her standing there – her cheeks flushed from the cold.
And it was then I couldn't move.
She still looked as tall as ever, she still had that next-door pretty look; but god she looked beautiful.
Shakily, I made my way over to her – my legs feeling like jelly. She smiled at the confused expression on my face – and it was then she hugged me.
"I missed you." She breathed in my ear. "My best friend."
And it was then I knew.
I loved her.
But not that kind of love – the crush romantic kind. No, this was different. This was the best friend, almost sibling kind. And she was someone who I loved to death.
There's no bloody point in past tense anymore.
I love her. No matter how many guys she went through, no matter how many damn arguments we have – she's a constant in my life.
And she won't ever ever leave.
There was only two words I could say to her.
Hey this is a bit crappy sorry. I did it once in a rush job then edited it after
I really should have a beta reader - I used to have one on fanfiction net but I really can't be bothered xD I honestly don't have the patience :3
This story is dedicated to my bestest friend in the world Nathan :D I'm probably not very good at writing from a guy's point of view but whatever I tried :P
Love you :D
Anyway review people!!!!!! :D