Short Story of Friends.

Sitting under a very old oak tree, his nose buried in his hard covered book completely oblivious to his surroundings, John’s golden locks shimmered under the sun’s ray peeking between the tree leaves. Whenever he has a hold of a book, be it just a short story or a five inches thick novel, he would read all the way. Honestly, I don’t recall anyone seeing him doing anything else besides breathing in his book. 

John is a very quiet guy. He is very tall, taller than a basketball pole, I think and they say his eyes are as blue as the clear sky, though no soul has actually seen it. How could we? His face was always hidden behind the facade of a book.

“Yo Cook. You’re flirting with that nerd again?” I heard as a hand rested, gripping on my shoulder with a light slap. I turned to see, it was my friend, Don. “Dude, we are 50 miles away, how can you call that flirting? And I'm not bi,” I said, swatting his hand away. He laughed.

“Joking man”

 I snorted. It wasn’t that I like him in any way but he was always alone only accompanied by his book. You could say I pitied him because a teenage life without friends is a life without internet, or a life without television, a boring black and white life.

“Kringgg!!”

My friend tapped my shoulder, signaling that he was heading to class. I dismissed him with a nod, not carrying to look at him. Since I had free period, I lingered in the cafeteria jotting down my biology experiment jotter. I hate homework. Then, I heard a soft cough. I pulled my head upwards, scanning the school lawn for any presence and that was when our eyes met. It’s true, I thought to myself. His eyes are as blue as the sky, as calm as the ocean and very friendly. It was inviting and I felt that maybe I can give it a chance. 

He raked his gaze away from mine as I saw him slightly blushing as he turned. This is weird.

I slammed my text book, shoved it in my bag and stomped up to the oak tree where John sat still blushing. “Hi, you’re John, I’m Cook. Pleasure, we’re friends now, let’s hang out” I mumbled as I stretched my hand to him. 

He stayed silent. 

I was dumbfounded, to his reaction, “I said, I’m Cook. We’re friends, let’s hang out.” 

He remained quiet. Did I say something wrong? Did I upset him by any chance? Why won’t he say anything?

Then his phone vibrated. He picked up his phone, said a few words then stood up and abruptly ran out the school gate. Shocked, I stumbled on my feet but managed to catch up to his surreal speed. Who knew a basketball pole can run that fast. I managed to follow him illegally to the hospital, gasping, I stood in front of an opened door that held a very old woman lying helplessly on the hospital bed with John kneeling by her side. “John, why are you here?”

“I’m here for you,”

“You shouldn’t always be here with me. Worry more of yourself and your friends, I don’t have much left,” her voice melodious. 

“I don’t have any,” said John.

She smiled, “why?”

“I don’t want to lose anyone like how I lost mom and dad, not anymore, not again. And I don’t want to lose you” John said as small sobs escaped his lips.

feeling the sudden rush of courage, I slowly walked in unnoticed and I muttered “I’m here,” resting my hand on his. 

“We’re friends, so I’ll have your back. We’ll make it out together.” 

Then he smiled.