Chapter Text
It was November. Three months into third grade.
“Shirley, wait for me!” Younger Shirley sighed dramatically, yet she still slowed down to wait for her friend.
“You're too slow!” she complained, as Cheryl jogged to catch up to her.
“You had a head start!"
They walked side by side down the street, backpacks bouncing against their shoulders. The late afternoon air was cold enough that their breath fogged faintly in front of them. Cheryl liked the cold weather.
“Race you to the corner,” Cheryl said suddenly.
“What—?”
“Too late!” Cheryl says, sprinting past. Shirley yelled something behind her, but Cheryl was already halfway down the block, laughing as she ran.
She reached the corner first and spun around triumphantly. “Victory!”
Shirley caught up a few seconds later, glaring at her. “You cheated.”
“How?”
“You started before I said yes!”
Cheryl shrugged. “Skill issue.”
Shirley tried not to smile. It didn’t work. They burst into laughter
“Whatever,” she says. “You’re annoying.”
“And yet,” Cheryl said proudly, “you still hang out with me every day.”
Shirley rolled her eyes. “Of course I do!”
They continued walking, their pace slower now. The park was only a few minutes away, and when they reached it, Cheryl immediately headed toward the swings.
“First one there gets the good swing!” she yells.
“You always say that!”
“Because it works!”
Shirley groans but follows anyway. Soon the two of them were swinging back and forth, feet dragging against the squeaky floor as the chains creaked.
For a while neither of them spoke. The sky above them was starting to turn orange with sunset.
“You know,” Shirley said eventually, “we’re probably going to different schools next year.”
Cheryl slowed her swing slightly. “Yeah,” she said. Her voice was casual, but something about the thought felt strange.
“Well,” Shirley continued, kicking at the air, “we’ll still hang out, right?”
Cheryl looked over at her. Shirley sounded like she was trying to pretend it didn’t matter.
Cheryl scoffed. “Obviously.”
Shirley raised an eyebrow. “Obviously?”
“Yeah,” Cheryl said. “You’re my best friend.”
Shirley blinked slightly. Then she smiled. “Good,” she said.
They kept swinging until the sky got darker and the park lights flickered on. Back then, it felt simple. Like things would always stay the same.
ᯓ present day ᯓ
Back in the present, Cheryl lay on her bed in the Apollo cabin, staring up at the ceiling.
The memory faded slowly.
She let out a quiet sigh. It was strange. Back then, she had been completely sure of something. They would be best friends forever. They would live together in a mansion and own an ice cream shop. Cheryl closed her eyes for a moment. And somehow, somewhere between then and now
that certainty had disappeared.