Page 2 of Finding My Forever

His eyebrows shot up and he beamed at me. “Very nice, April. I’m so proud of you.” He opened his arms and I stepped in for a hug.

“Thanks Dad.”

Mom joined in and we started laughing. “I’m proud of you, too, honey. You need to get going though or you’ll be late. We can celebrate tonight.”

My smile didn’t leave my face until I walked into school and saw Katie waiting for me at my locker. She looked worried, which went against her nature. She was the quintessential cheerleader with a grin on her perfectly tan face at all times.

She fell against the locker next to mine when I got close.

“What’s up?” I skipped the normal morning pleasantries knowing she would want to get to the point.

“Coach texted me this morning. She said Principal Sanders cut the freshman football team’s skit from the homecoming show, and we have to fill the time.”

After replacing my math textbook from my bag and taking out my chemistry book from my locker, I turned to her. “Why is that a bad thing?”

She sighed dramatically. “It’s not, but that means I have to choreograph a whole new routine, and we have to practice even more before homecoming.”

“Why don’t we just use one of last year’s routines or one we started this year?”

She slammed her head quietly against the locker twice. “We can’t use last year’s! People remember them. It’s homecoming. Parents and alumni will be there. The whole town will be there!”

I took a deep breath and motioned for her to mimic me. After three times, I dropped my hands. “Katie, we’ve got this. I’ll help you after school today. It’s not the first time we’ve had to come up with a new routine in a crunch.”

During our freshman year, the team captain at the time made Katie and I come up with a two-minute routine in one day to prove we belonged on the team. It was so good it became one we used the whole year.

“Yeah, but that was different. Everyone we know wasn’t watching us.”

“Oh please. You love the attention.”

She sighed and with a wistful grin. “I do.”

“Okay then. We will put something together today then we have two weeks to teach the team before the game.”

“You’re right.” Her shoulders lowered and her smile returned. “Thanks, April.”

“Crisis averted,” I pointed toward our homeroom. “Now, I’ve got something to tell you.”

“What is it?” She fell in step next to me, waving to people as we passed.

I waited until I had her attention, something that wasn’t likely to happen until we were seated. Katie wasn’t a popular girl in the typical, mean-girl sense. She knew everyone in our grade and almost everyone in the school. She made it a point to say hi to them individually and invite them to parties and events. It was exhausting to watch, but she was simply a better person than me. She was the type to never met a stranger, and I didn’t know anyone at our school that didn’t like her.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like them or want to know everyone, I just didn’t know how she remembered it all.

This was her life, though. She lived to be in the spotlight. The prime example of a people person. It was her gift, not mine.

I’ve never been a shy or self-conscience but compared to her I was. The difference in our personalities was what made us such good friends. She was the yin to my yang. She was outgoing while I preferred staying in the background. I liked being popular and having people know me, but frankly, I wasn’t interested in investing that much time or energy talking to people I didn’t really care about. It’s awful, but true. I’d go through fire for my true friends, but the superficial relationships Katie thrived off of made me cringe.

Moments after the bell rang, we finally slid into our seats and waited while Mr. Howard took attendance and the announcements sounded over the intercom. After they finished and Mr. Howard resumed his reading of the newspaper, Katie turned toward me.

“So, what did you have to tell me?”

My smile returned and I faced her. “Remember the essay I entered at the end of last year?”

Katie seemed to have to think about it. “The one that won the state competition?”

“Yeah.” I drew out the word, loving that I had something to share that she didn’t already know. The child in me wanted to chant ‘I know something you don’t know!’

She waved her hand in front of her. “And?”