My Best Friend - NikNack Ch. 2

February 14th 2008
I get ready to slip a Valentine's Day card in her locker. It kills me a little to think of how close I came to writing down, "I LOVE YOU" in the dead center of it in red permanent marker. I might as well have written down: JACK JOSEPH ALLEN MOORE IS A DUMBASS, but that wouldn't have made much sense. At least not to her.

Even if I wrote "I love you" she probably wouldn't have taken it the way I had intended. People throw that phrase around so much. Especially friends. And that's what we are.

Just friends.

I pull my biggest grin in her direction, and she smiles back and waves slightly, careful not to drop her books. Her boyfriend greets her at the end of the hall with a small box of chocolates, a deep red card, and a hug.

He treats her right—Nikki's boyfriend Drake does.  

But I hate him so much.

I slump back against her locker and it feels like spikes are digging, gouging into my spine as I watch Drake kiss her. My breath hitches in my throat as one of his arms wraps around her delicate waist and pulls her closer and closer against his strong body. I will never ever breathe again, I tell myself, but I know I have to because it's a necessity. Just like she is.

I slip the card into her locker.

February 16th, 2008  
The sick feeling is back and I've been out of school for a day and a half now. I left school early on Valentine's Day, and I didn't come back in on Friday. Now it's Saturday, and I don't know what time it is, but I know it's late in the evening.

I listen as the rain pours heavily outside, and the wind batters against my window, making me wince. My head hurts and it feels like my heart is growing, pushing, swelling against my ribs and it won't stop. When I peel off the blankets I feel strange, so gray, sad, and distant, split, and uncanny and just so—

"Jack," My mom's voice is soft against the closet door, "I brought soup for you."

I groan in response and push open the closet door for her. She finds me shriveled up on the floor with all the blankets and pillows askew.

"Sweetie, wouldn't you be a little more—" She purses her lips and stares at my awkward position on the floor of the closet. "—comfortable in your bed?"

I don't say anything. My head is pounding.

She picks up a few pillows and stacks them outside the closet so she can huddle up beside me, a bowl of homemade soup cradled in her delicate hands. "Are you hungry?"

No, I'm not.

"I feel like you haven't moved at all today."

I haven't, Mom.

I hear her shift a little; I can tell she's becoming discouraged, and she knows there's something else that's wrong, but I sure as hell won't tell her. She reaches down and strokes my hair softly, just like she did when I was younger. Like she always has.

"Nikki hopes you feel better."

She sees me cringe. I know because I looked up and caught her eye. Her hair—naturally black like mine—is pulled up in a loose ponytail and it drapes over her right shoulder. Her features are soft, motherly, and worried.

"She called earlier today . . . I told her to try calling you back later."

An exhale escapes me and I press my face against a pillow. She can tell that I want her to leave.

"Try eating this soup for me, okay? You need something in your stomach." She leans down enough to kiss the top of my head and place the bowl on an end table in the closet so it won't spill.

Once she's gone, I slowly sit up and look out of my closet to the window. A blinding flash of lightning illuminates the dark room for a moment, and then it's gone as quick as it had appeared. My eyes won't focus and the room blurs, it sways, and the lightning engulfs everything in a cast of white again. I swerve and embrace my head between my palms and listen intently to the ringing in my ear—it sounds like a distorted church bell off in the distance, growing sickeningly louder and louder in my mind.

Across the room my cell phone rings. My eyes snap open and I desperately try to focus. I nearly fall, but I stagger over with the small steps of a toddler just learning to walk, his body fidgeting a bit as his tiny feet eagerly feel the ground beneath him and drive him forwards. For a moment I feel like that toddler toddling, unaware of how small he is. Until I reach the phone.

The screen lights up. It's Nikki.

I stare, but I won't move. Why am I not moving? Jack, move. Pick it up. Jack, you always answer when it's Nikki calling.


Pick up.



Pick up.



Please pick up.




This time I don't stagger; I find my footing and collapse into the closet and try to suffocate under the blankets and pillows.

My phone stops ringing from across the room.

February 18th, 2008
"I missed you."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah, I didn't really have anyone to talk to in my classes."

"You have Casey."

Acacia Fletcher. Known as Casey. Nikki's best friend.

"I know, but . . . a lot of the time she doesn't sit close to me in any of our classes together."

"Why not?"

"The teachers don't let her." She shrugs like it's obvious.

". . . why?"

"They know if she sits by me she'll be really loud."

"Oh." I smile at her. Casey's really something. If anything, she kind of reminds me of myself. Like an obnoxious, very short, goofy, and not stupid, female version of myself. With braces.

Nikki laughs and pulls out a card from her backpack that's sitting next to her on the brick wall.

"I was going to give you this on Valentine's Day, but you left early." She hands it to me, and I grin because it's handmade, just like mine was. "I mean, I could have left it in your locker, but I was afraid it would get lost."  

I snort and wag my head. My locker's a mess. Whenever I open it all my books fall out, and papers scatter everywhere.  

"Yeah, I don't blame you." I lean back and flop down on the brick wall, holding the card high above me. "Do I get to open this now or—"

"Nikki," The voice is loud, deep, and highly annoyed, "There you are. Jesus, I've been looking everywhere for you, and you didn't answer your damn phone."

I lie there and don't budge.

"Sorry, Drake." She brushes off his tone and turns around so she's facing me, and cautiously tries to climb down, beginning to reach her leg down away from the wall.

He scoffs and I can imagine him crossing his arms, or clenching his fists tightly at his sides. "C'mon, you knew I was picking you up today."

"Hey, I know, I'm sorry. I didn't realize how late it was."

Very slowly, I sit up and place the card next to my backpack. And for some reason, dear god I have no idea why, I reach out and place my hands firmly on her waist. Beneath my touch I feel her body tighten in response, but she doesn't say anything; I can feel her staring up at me, almost surprised. I carefully lower her down from the wall and ease her into Drake's arms, but I can't look at either of them as I do so.

"Thanks, Jack." He nods at me and adjusts Nikki in his hold, wrapping her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck. I lower her backpack down next and he slings it over his thick forearm and begins to walk away with her. She peers over his shoulder like a little girl and she holds onto him tightly so she won't fall off his burly figure. I think she might have said bye or I'll see you tomorrow. She could have said I freaking hate you and I don't love you, Jack, so get it through your thick, stupid skull and leave me alone, but I wouldn't know—I can't focus.

I don't know how long I sit there staring at the card she made me. When I finally open it I smile a little at what she's written. She thanks me for being her friend and making her laugh. You know, friend stuff.

A loud SMACK makes me jolt. I look down from the wall and see Casey pressed against it, gawking up at me with stark blue-gray eyes, the widest and brightest I've ever seen them.

"It is you! Thank freaking god almighty!"

I just blink at her, and I feel my left eyebrow rise. "Did you just . . . run into the wall?"

"Pssshh, of course not."

I snort. I really can't help it, but I do. And I grin like an idiot.

She smacks the wall with her palms and groans, clearly irritated with her short height. Nikki at least comes close to being able to grip the top of the wall if she stretches her arms all the way up, but Casey just doesn't come close at all. She can't. I reach out a hand for her to grab and I help her up so she can sit beside me. She accumulates a giant breath of air through her nose, holds it (looking pretty funny while she does so), and exhales it through her braced teeth, which makes a loud hissing noise.  

Casey has to tilt her head back to look up at me. "Mind sharing some of your height, Jack? You're cutting a lot of people short. Namely me."

I wag my head and smile. "Um, what did you need?"

"What did I need?" She furrows her eyebrows in thought for a moment and then gasps. "OH! Have you seen Drake and Nikki? I missed the bus so I thought I could bum a ride from them, but Nikki wouldn't answer her phone, so I thought you would know where they are and—"

"They left awhile ago."

"They did? Seriously?"

"Yep." My voice is flat, but I don't think she notices.

"Oh wow. That, my friend," she stares up at me looking pretty serious, "is absolutely not acceptable."

"It's not?"

"Absolutely not."

I cross my arms and look down at her, letting my dangling legs kick a little over the edge of the wall. "What're you going to do?"

"Jack has a car, doesn't he?"  

I raise my other eyebrow and stare at her, but she's not looking at me. She's looking outward past the school, maybe trying to look past the sky even. As I said, Casey's really something—really different and out there. I try to brush away the fact that she just spoke in third person.

"Yes, Jack has a car." I go along with it, just for fun. "Did Nikki tell Casey that?"

"Possibly."

"Did she also tell you it's weird of me to drive to school when it's within walking distance?"

"Nope. Why do you anyway? You're not a cripple in disguise, are you?"

"Uh, no." I pause, and now she's looking up at me, her eyebrows raised in confusion. I shake my head and smile. "I drive to school just in case people like you miss the bus and need a ride home."

February 27th, 2008
I've been giving Casey rides home after school for weeks now. Not every day, but a couple times a week at least. I've really gotten to know her too. I think it's funny how I haven't talked to her a whole lot until a couple weeks ago. I mean, she's Nikki's best friend, and she's also in some of my classes.

March 4th, 2008
Nikki seems to be really busy now. Whenever I ask her if she wants to hang out, she can't. Lately she's been studying a lot, or she has to run some errands for her mom, or she already has plans with Drake. Casey's been sitting on the wall behind the school with me now instead because Nikki can't make it.

We talk about random things, things that shouldn't actually matter to anyone. Like which is better: Coke or Pepsi? Mac or PC? Or if you were lost on an island in the middle of the ocean, what are three movies that you would bring with you? And of course that would be useless if you were stranded on that island without electricity, but we don't care. We know that these things aren't supposed to matter to anyone, even though people still care enough to wonder about them, or have debates about them.  

March 10th, 2008
I forgot about my Valentine's Day card. Nikki didn't say anything about it, and I wonder if somehow it got lost. But that doesn't make sense, does it? Maybe. I don't know, but now, thinking back, I almost hope she didn't find it. It was cheesy and stupid and I sounded desperate, maybe in pain too. But then I didn't think about that. Then I probably hoped she would notice that I was bothered, and at one point she did notice, but I didn't tell her that I love her.

"How is a raven like a writing desk?"

"Did you seriously just ask me that, Casey?"

"Maybe." She smiles and lies back on the wall.

I smile too.