I Have a Better Best Friend Than You

The moment Katie and I met at Elegant Child, I disliked her. She was in Dino 2, the Pre-K class that shared a room with my preschool class, Dino 1. It seemed Katie and I were merely doomed to share a classroom together for that year. Occasionally, I would peep my head over the divider cabinets and watch Dino 2 play with macaroni. Katie was gluing her pasta in the shape of a “K”. With her doe eyed baby blues, she stood up from her project looking at my half hidden head creeping behind the shelves. I glared intently straining my eyes into an I-wish-you-would-disappear look. In my skewed 4 year old perspective, every older kid was a pain no matter if they were only 9 months older.
The next year, I skipped Dino 2 landing into the same Kindergarten class as the shy blue eyed girl across the divider. Katie Baerveldt was perhaps one of the cutest kids in our class. Not only did she have the deepest big blue pair, her perfectly circular face was complimented by strands of precisely highlighted dirty blonde hair and a fluff of bangs resting on her forehead. Every day, Katie brought in the best computer games which everyone wanted to borrow which made a self-centered only child like me jealous. Even so, I found comfort with her.
We would run exactly one lap around the playground every morning as instructed by Mr. Bartholomew in order to “wake us up”. While the class sped around the course as though unaffected, my small and stubby legs prohibited me from catching up with the group. I came to dread the morning run, and all of the fast superkids in my class. The only solace I had was with the other girl with small, stubby legs, Katie (present day Katie is a medalist in cross country and track, so stubby legged children do not lose hope!). Soon, I noticed Katie and I were quite similar. Both of us were quiet, low maintenance kids with vivid imaginations.
After a couple weeks, Katie and I were inseparable. I would go to her house on the weekends where I was introduced to a different world. In the basement of her old house, the computer room was filled with shelves of cd-rom and console games: Pajama Sam, Freddie Fish, Spy Fox to name a few. She introduced me to Powerpuff Girls, Spongebob and Catdog as I was a late-comer to cable T.V. We always had a fun time together. The only thing Katie and I fought over was who got to be the dog during house.
The year went by slowly, and I enjoyed it. School is a lot like a sleep cycle, the longest and deepest sleep you get is during the first hour. But eventually, we ended up at kindergarten graduation wearing our black caps and gowns holding white teddy bears accessorized with the signatures of all our classmates, most of whom Katie and I vaguely remember by odd quirks.
“Smile!” my mom said clicking the button on her standard film camera. Katie and I stood side by side smiling, my hat crooked to the right and our arms crossed behind each other. The picture still brings a nostalgic tear to my eye.
Afterwards, Katie invited me to be on her softball team.
I urged her to join my dance class.
We made regular weekend play dates.
Swim lessons.
Soccer.
Piano.
Another season of softball which I still sucked at.
Even though we went to separate schools and different districts, Katie and I were by no means isolated from each other. We still were the best of friends, nothing had changed.
Then, life became complicated. As we begun our first year at middle school, her at Catholic school and I at public, the relationship we upheld became even more vital. Since I realized my sports efforts were hopeless and Katie couldn’t bare to endure another dance recital, we replaced seeing each other with phone conversations. Every day I couldn’t wait to call Katie and just talk. She always gave me an ear for me to vent and I tried the best I could to give her advice. Our bond was uncommonly strong and supportive. We got each other through perhaps the most difficult years in childhood. I could thank her every single day for that.
By high school, we began venturing between cliques to find our identity. It must have been sophomore year we discovered how different we had truly become. I was going through the let’s-get-fucked-up stage of teenhood which everyone endures, and Katie had her boyfriend (who now goes by the name of dousche). Although we could go for two weeks at a time without talking, eventually, I was always pleased to hear Katie’s sarcastic ass greeting on the other end of the phone, “Where the hell have you been, slut?”.
Last night we played scrabble till midnight. Honestly, I’ve never used the dictionary to challenge someone more in my life. We sat on my bedroom floor laughing our asses off at kau. Of course, she won and wouldn’t let me forget it. She’s the only person I know that can get away with being a complete asshole, even in scrabble. She’s the one I enjoy having witty repertoire with the most. She’s the one friend who I can talk to telepathically. She’s the one still reading my blog entries after the countless times I’ve quit writing and even giving me feedback on each one. To this day, as we head our separate ways once again to different colleges, I know that I’ll always have a best friend who I can count on. Love you, Katie.