Last night my friend Kirra and I went out to eat and catch up on what’s new in our lives. We laughed and joked and talked about old times especially the time in eighth grade when we liked each other. I guess technically, back then, we were boyfriend and girlfriend.
Anyway, we were “together” and went to the eighth grade dance as each others dates. A few days later, Kirra calls me on the phone and asks if we could “just be friends?”
I was crushed. My first girlfriend ever and she dumps me. I eventually got over it, but until last night, I thought we were together only so she’d have a date for the dance.
“I never told you the reason we broke up?” she asked.
It was because you needed a date to the dance.
“That’s not it at all.”
Really? What is it then?
“Well, the band trip* was coming up and that’s when everyone starts holding hands and kissing and I wasn’t ready to hold your hand so I broke up.” *(Side note: In the eighth grade, it was cool to be in the band.)
I’ve been thinking for the past eight years of my life that you used me for a date?
“Well this is awkward.”
We spent the rest of the night in silence. Totally. Awkward.