Whatever Happened to Sam?

I used to have this best friend. Her name was Samantha, or Sam, as we called her. For three glorious years, Christina, Sam and I spent 98% of our time together. We’d go on AIM, play SNOOD, listen to CDs, watch movies that made us cry, and snoop her sister’s diary. Her apartment had this tiny balcony. I remember the three of us sitting out there until the wee hours of the morning, watching the moon cast shadows on the street. I wish I could remember what our 12 year old selves talked about all the time, but silence was not a sound often heard.

Sam pops into my mind every now and again. Especially when I walk over to Dolly’s – the ices stand a block away from her old house. I was there last night and couldn’t believe the price had rose to $3 an ice. I remembered Sam and I going through her family’s change bucket and paying $1.25 in quarters for an ice and using whatever was leftover to buy a lip gloss or nail polish at that Walgreens next door. Sam is the reason I listen to Linkin Park. She’s the reason I love salt bagels with butter. She’s also the reminder of how cruel teenage girls can be. No, she was not the bitch in the situation. I was. 

Sam was a unique girl. She didn’t play by our rules and I think that’s why we loved her so much..until it was too much to handle. She cut her hair super short, dyed it a different color, covered herself in black clothing made herself TOO different. She was changing. I didn’t understand it. I think I was angry about it. I pushed her away. Christina pushed her away. We hurt her. I know we did. We called her names, our guy friends laughed along with us, and slowly but surely she was no longer our friend. She didn’t come in our prom limo in 8th grade. She moved out of Brooklyn a year or two later never to be heard from again. 

Now with Facebook, I can easily tell you where she works and if she’s seeing someone. But that’s all I know. I don’t even think we’ve exchanged a message when a friend request was accepted. I don’t know her favorite band anymore, what her passions are in life, if she still has her stupid cat that I was so allergic to but refused to let it stop me from spending countless nights her house. I don’t know if she remembers what we had. Or cares. I mean, it was a decade ago. Even if she never thinks of me, still hates me for isolating her so long ago, I can’t help but wonder…whatever happened to Sam?


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