Night Marchers

CHAPTER 1 (KAYLEE AND EMMA, BFI’S)

  Present Day

  “I’m so jealous Emma,” Kaylee yells at me as she throws a hand full of confetti in my face. I look up just long enough to give her a good rolling of my eyes. Sulking, it has been a frequent visitor to my never-ending torture called life. I immediately go back to tearing up crape paper decorations then arranging them into the word ‘SUCKS.’

  “You have got to stop being such a drama queen Emma! I’ve been dreaming of getting out of Texas my entire life and you finally have the chance,” Kaylee whines and then goes back to blowing up more purple balloons.

  I agree with Kaylee, I am being a drama queen. Under the circumstances though I just keep my head down and try to stifle the negative thoughts running around in my head.

  Kaylee has been my best friend since we first met at camp in the seventh grade. Our friendship was solidified when we got into trouble for coating the boys cabin with shaving cream while they slept. One of the poor boys slipped on some and ended up with a concussion. We were stuck cleaning the mess hall for the duration of our stay; it turned out to be the best summer ever.

  We are more like sisters than friends. Sure we don’t look alike...at all. In fact we’re total opposites physically. She is petite and perfect like a Barbie doll with her big blue eyes and long flowing blond hair. Sometimes her runway model appearance makes me green with envy. Me on the other hand, I’m just plain. I personally don't see anything uniquely beautiful when I look in the mirror. My espresso brown hair and chocolate brown eyes won't make me stand out in any crowd. It isn't low self esteem, just my truth. I don’t look at myself in the mirror and see anything that would make me uniquely beautiful. I don’t have low self-esteem or anything; I just don’t really see my espresso brown hair and chocolate brown eyes really making me stand out in a crowd. Anyhow, it’s not our looks that make us like sisters; it’s our connection. It’s like our brains run on the same frequency. We have nearly everything in common from clothes to music and books; the exception being our taste in boys. So far it has worked to our benefit tremendously.

  We have been making plans for after graduation since we were thirteen years old. We narrowed down our top three college choices, found nice apartments near each campus and would be bunkmates. That was the plan, to enjoy our first sweet taste of freedom together…Well, at least that's what I thought we were doing.

  How can I smile, play the “happy camper” and be all appreciative of this stupid bon voyage party she’s so thoughtfully throwing for me knowing that tomorrow I will have to say goodbye to her?

  Kaylee stops blowing up her balloons and takes a seat in the chair next to me. She looks down at the table and with one swipe of her hand destroys the word ‘SUCKS’ I had worked so hard on. Without looking up at me she immediately starts rearranging the torn up crape paper into three letters: BFI...Best Friends Infinitely. Not forever, we have always said we will be friends longer than forever, infinitely.

  Upon seeing this I’m not sure whether I should smile or break down and cry. I try the smile, only to find that my frown has become a permanent fixture on my face.

  Reaching over she caresses my back in a sort of mother-like gesture. , “Don’t worry Emma, we only have two more months till we graduate. You know I have to finish high school here but I am going to apply to Kauai Community College so we can be together again. You better let me live with you since I’ll be broke as a joke being an out of state transfer.” She says the last part in an upbeat manner, probably trying to make light of the situation.

  I look at her, still trying to dredge up something similar to a smile. “Can’t wait.”

  She gives me a quick grin and goes back to decorating my empty living room with goofy Hawaiian decorations and Bon Voyage cut outs. The ceiling and walls are covered in twirls of crepe paper. It looks like someone threw up a bunch of purple and yellow streamers in here. Perhaps she’s trying to over compensate so it’s not so noticeable that my childhood home is now devoid of furniture. Not the best place to throw a party but I guess it makes it harder to mess anything up. At least she was able to borrow some fold out tables and chairs; otherwise there literally would be nothing to sit on other than the recently polished oak floor.

  With Kaylee preoccupied again, I’m free to get back to sulking and wallowing in self-pity. I have to say, I’m getting darn good at it! After all, I’ve been practicing for about a month, ever since my Dad broke the news to me twenty-eight days ago...