Friends Are Forever

Friends Are Forever
I walk into school in a dilapidated and miserable mood. Over Christmas break, my family and I will be moving to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and today is my last day at Saint Rose. I drift through the day as if I know when my life will end and that day is today. I am looking for anything to preoccupy my mind and redirect my thoughts of this imminent and impending desolation. Then finally, it comes.
“Everybody, get in line,” my teacher, Mrs. Hildebrand announces, “We’re going down to the gym.” I am so elated with the prospect of going down to the gymnasium that I momentarily forget about my forthcoming doom.
Suddenly the public-announcement system buzzes on, “Will Anthony and Danielle Goreczny please come to the school office.”
“Well, go on,” Mrs. Hildebrand encourages. It is like I have been struck with Thor’s hammer when I realize I won’t be going down to the gymnasium, but instead will be walking into what, to us at our age, is considered to be the gates of the underworld. Now don’t get me wrong, Mrs. Riley is a wonderful person and principal, but when you are called to the office it is only because you have done something that she heavily disapproves of, or one of your teachers has told her about some major behavioral issue you have.
Now, on top of once again feeling like my world is going to end as soon as I walk out of school I also feel as if it will end quite a bit sooner, as soon as I enter Mrs. Riley’s office, to be exact. As I drift towards the one place in the entire school that I have only visited once, I am pondering that one time I had been there, which was only yesterday. I no longer remember what exactly I had been doing, but I do remember that it was one of those games that second grade boys found extremely fun and interesting, but a principal does not approve of. As I continue on my way to the office, I am concerned that the reason she had asked for my sister and me is that she is planning to reiterate the events to my sister and then give her a letter or some sort of notice for my parents. I don’t think I really deserve this because it wasn’t that serious and I wasn’t the only person playing the game.
I walk into the office with an immense feeling of dread. My sister is already sitting in the office. All I want is to go down to the gym and escape this final destination. I am sitting and dreading the moment when her wrath will rain upon me like a hail of flaming stones. She opens her mouth and I cringe in a despairing fear. “Where are you moving to?” she asks in a calm, smooth voice that is not at all cynical or rehabilitating and I instantly relax.
“Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania,” I say showing an extreme lack of enthusiasm to let her know I want to go down to the gym.
“Really?” she asks. “I heard it’s nice there,” she continues, desperately trying to keep the conversation alive.
“I guess,” I say lackadaisically. “I used to live there, but I don’t really remember much about it except for my house and a couple things that happened when we were moving out.” She can tell that she is losing me from my apparent lack of interest and the fact that I keep looking around the room, and that all I want to do is go down to the gym and hang out with my friends.
“Alright,” she pronounces with an air of defeat as her shoulder sag, “I guess I’ve held you up long enough. You and your sister can go down the gym now.”
My sister and I start down to the gym hurrying to get down to where our friends are enjoying themselves. “What do you think the point of that was?” I ask my sister, very interested in her thoughts.
“I think she was just interested in where we are moving to,” she says, sounding thoroughly bewildered. She was only in second grade and not into talking much unless she new the person really well.
“She already knew all of that stuff she asked us from our parents,” I point out.
“Oh, well…” my sister replies, looking, if possible, more befuddled than before.
The rest of the way to the gymnasium I work furiously to figure out what is going on in the gym. There had been nothing scheduled on the calendar, and I don’t know what to expect. I am hoping it isn’t some boring lecture on getting good grades or something like that. On the other hand, I am also hoping that it won’t be some fun sports competition, like the pep rally on spirit day, because then I will have missed part of it.
I push through the doors and what it is becomes instantly clear. It is a party, a party for my sister and me, just us, no one else! It is like having an extra birthday party. There are balloons everywhere that say “Good Luck,” and, “Farewell.” They are all blue and gold, our school colors. The smell of sausage and pepperoni wafts from the kitchen. This aroma is coming from pizzas from Papa Johns lying there just begging for me to eat them. There are cupcakes, cake, juice, and cookies. It is a full-blown party. My friends and I run around the gym as if it is Christmas, not realizing that this very well may be that last time that we will see each other.
Then my teacher, Mrs. Hildebrand, calls us over to her. She hands me a large binder that says “Saint Rose Lions” on the front. I open it, and there is a picture of Mrs. Riley and many words, some of which I recognize, others I have never seen in my life. I turn the page, and see a picture of Mrs. Hildebrand, and a lot fewer words, all of which I know. I turn from page to page, each page holds a different friend and different memories within its words and pictures. When I finish looking through the book, I close it and look up at my friends. What had only been five minutes ago now seemed like it had taken place a lifetime and a half ago. My eyes swell with tears, but I know they won’t fall; they never have before, not even when I had fallen of my bike and scraped my knee open. Suddenly I feel a wet streak on my cheek, and I know my toughness has melted away. The reality of what I am facing becomes instantly and overwhelmingly clear. This book is like the final brick that will separate me from my friends forever, and my tears are the cement that secures it in place.
Now, sitting here, looking back and meditating on these events I realize that there are some things more important than money, or fast cars, or being popular, and one of these is friends and how they affect you. Friends are one of the most important things in your life, and you will never forget a true friend. I am living proof of this.

Jon Petrik