In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Forgive and Forget?.”
I glanced up from my notebook and she saw me look her way.
My head raised slowly as she sauntered closer, her heels on the tiled floor announcing her every step.
She grinned. One of my eyebrows inched toward my hairline. The click-clacks stopped as she did right beside me.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asked.
“Why?” was the response I blurted. Her gaze strayed downward, her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, and her heels clicked and clacked as she fidgeted. Clearly I wasn’t the accommodating seventh grader she had remembered.
“It’s about Sarah,” she said.
I sat up straighter and stared at her until her clicks and clacks ceased. “Go on.”
“Back in middle school,” she said, “I did some shitty things to her.”
“You did,” I agreed. Click. She took a step back. “And?”
“Look,” she said, “I want to be able to apologize to her. I haven’t had a best friend since we had our falling out.”
That hadn’t been Sarah’s fault. I waited for her to get to the point as to why she was talking to me.
“You guys are good friends,” she said.
“Very good friends.” Best friends.
“I was hoping that you would just let her know that I wanted to talk to her,” she said. “You know, clear the air. I really want to apologize. Can you do that?”
Five years had passed since then. All three of us had grown and changed.
I nodded. “I’ll let her know.”
“Thanks.” Clack. She turned away.
“It’s up to Sarah whether she wants to talk to you,” I said.
She paused and glanced back at me. “But… you will let her know?”
“I said I would.” My stare was hard, unblinking. “I don’t let others down.”
A hesitant nod was all I received before she turned away again. I returned my gaze to my work, but my attention was on the sounds of her departure.
Click… clack… click… clack…