I remember my first day of high school vividly. Walking next to my brother as we passed through the doors and into the giant building I would be stuck in for the next four years. I was terrified. I clutched the straps of my backpack, and kept my head down low… Until one of you walked up to me in the hallway and blurted out, “What are you doing here? It’s not visitor’s day!” Gee, thanks. At that moment, I was kind of frustrated with the comment, but it actually made me laugh. It made me feel something other than anxiety.
I am blessed with a brother who was willing to help me out, even when he was embarrassed of me, so he let me hang out with all of you guys. I can’t tell you just how cool I felt sitting with the seniors when I was a freshman. Hearing all of the dating drama, future-college woes and inappropriate jokes that I didn’t understand, but laughed at anyway. I watched as you talked about prom and graduating and getting new cars, while I thought to myself, “I hope one day I’m as cool as them.”
Even after you all graduated, nothing changed except our ages. I was still the quiet girl and you were the rowdy, obnoxious ‘adults.’ But I was still excited to be in your life, doing anything with you guys made me feel ten times cooler. I drank my first beer with you, sitting in an apartment in Auburn thinking, “Watch out world, I’m growing up, I’m gonna drink a beer.” And then promptly choking down a sip and leaving the rest of the can to go flat. I got the ‘real’ college experience with you guys, laughing about random stuff while eating ramen noodles, then sleeping on a futon, and I was only a sophomore in high school. You better believe I bragged about it to all of my friends.
Then it seemed like overnight we all grew up. The age gap between us seemed to disappear. We’ve graduated from the kid-to-adult conversations, and entered into the realm of friend-to-friend. I’ve vented to you, cried to you, laughed with you. And you were always there to give me advice (or alcohol) when I needed it.
I’m lucky enough to call some of you siblings, whether blood-related or not. I’m lucky enough to have someone that calls me, saying, “Hey I’m coming home this weekend. You better be there.” I’m lucky enough to get that one annoying question of, “So, have you met any boys?” every time I see you. I’m lucky enough to eat cheese dip at La Parilla while venting about life with you. I’m lucky enough to binge-watch shows like "South Park" with you while attempting to imitate Cartman. I’m lucky enough to have people like you in my life.
You all stuck by my side during my dorky days, and somehow accepted me for who I was, and now I’m here, calling you friends. Yes, I was an awkward freshman with frizzy hair and an acne-ridden face, but you guys still let me hang out with you. That meant everything to me. And it still does.
Love,
Your Friend’s Little Sister
