When we were young adults

We actually became friends. I'd say good friends; the best of friends. I guess two strong willed, knuckle-headed 7 year olds don't know what's good for them. But you were good for me and I think deep down I knew. I knew that there was something there.

"Kenny? Earth to Kendal..." My friend Leslie waves a hand in my face.

I'm too busy with my head in my book studying to pay attention to anything she's just said.

Leslie Nowden is my best friend and probably the darkest girl I've ever met. I think she may have Haitian in her genes but her mama isn't that dark and we're not sure about her daddy; who died in the war a few years back. He was pretty much absent her entire life and until she'd heard the news of his passing, she could have cared less to get to know him. She has a step-dad now, who's really nice. She doesn't have much to say about him but she sure has a lot to say about other things. She is always talking, talking and talking some more. I can never get a word in edge wise, but luckily I don't have much to say. I've become more of a listener, giving up my old outspoken ways. Now, I'm a quiet observer and I like it that way.

"Huh?" I finally look up into dark brown eyes that are glaring at me. "What?"

"I asked if you had a date to prom."

I snort and shake my head. "Leslie, you know how I feel about prom."

"Yeah, yeah." She rolls her eyes and repeats my self-invented mantra. "Prom is a patriarchal fashion show, designed to make the pretty feel superior and the ugly feel uglier."

"Exactly." I smile and point my pencil at her.

"I thought you were just playin' when you'd said that last year. I didn't think you were serious."

"Well, I am. I don't see the point in spending money on hair, nails and make-up when it's all going to sweat off in that sauna of a gym." I adjust my glasses up the bridge of my nose. "Besides, if I wanted to be grinded on, I'd have hired myself a pimp and be doing it with the added bonus of pay."

This made her laugh and then get hushed by the school Liberian who threw us both a stern look. She should be happy we're not cutting up like the rest of the class in study hall.

"Seriously," I continue in a hushed tone. "I don't see the point."

"If this is about money, you don't have to worry. I can do your hair and make-up. Plus, I have two prom dresses. Don't ask me why. Mom and I got our wires crossed at the mall."

I sigh and chew on my eraser. "It's not about the money."

It really isn't. Since mama and daddy have found better jobs, we're doing much better keeping up with the bills and even having money left over. It isn't about the money.

It's about a date, but Leslie doesn't have to know that.

"If this is about a date..."

Damn, she's good.

"Why don't you ask Keo? You two have been friends for, like, forever."

"Keoni?" I snort again. "Keoni wouldn't want to go with me. He has Jessica Warren to go with."

Jessica Warren, ugh, that blond bitch. She's not the nicest girl by far but she is one of the smartest. We've been fighting for the Valedictorian spot since last year. The battle began when we were both nominated for student council in 9th grade and has continued through our high school careers. Now, we can't be in the same room without wanting to tear each others eyes out. It definitely hasn't helped that she's dating one of my closest friends.

I keep telling myself I don't care that he's with her but I can't help it. Something tells me he's not supposed to be with her. He's supposed to be with...

"They broke up. Haven't you heard?"

A quick jolt of happiness passes through me but I use my poker face to disguise it.

I shrug disinterestedly. "I try to stay away from Braylen High's grape vine. You're liable to get tangled and choked in it."

"You and your sayings." She rolls her eyes but smiles. "Hmm, look who's coming over..." Her smile drops instantly and I'm a little more interested to see who's coming our way.

"How's it going, Kendal?" It takes everything in me to keep from shifting away when Jackson Fletcher sits down next to me.

The guy has this thing about personal space that makes me want to revert back to my old ways of hitting annoying boys who won't quit bugging me. Jackson is cute, no doubt, with his flawless dark skin and piercing hazel eyes. If I were any normal girl (like Leslie) I'd have gone out with him a long time ago. But I wasn't normal, I was smart. And I was onto him like a bomb sniffing dog in an airport that had a scent.

"Just fine, thanks." I say dismissively and go back to re-reading the sentence about SAT test preparation.

"So..." He pauses and waits for me to look at him, but I'm not going to. When he finally figures it out, he continues. "Do you have a date for the prom?"

"Not going." I state curtly without taking my eyes away from the book.

"Why? Daddy not letting precious Kenny out of his sight?" He laughs at his own non-joke.

My daddy is strict but not that strict or stupid enough to let me go out with boys like Jackson and not know their motives. I'm happy for his strictness, it's the nicer excuse I use when people ask why I never date. The real reason is no one has ever really been interested; until Jackson, unfortunately.

This time, I do roll my eyes and look up at him.

"No, I'm just—" I start but Leslie interrupts me.

"We're going. But with a group of friends."

"Oh, you're going as lesbos. That's nice." This statement shocks me. Jackson has never been overtly mean to me before and up until then I'd never shown my complete disdain for him but that was just uncalled for.

I open my mouth, ready to tell him to go play in traffic but Leslie beats me to the punch again.

"Get out of here, asshole. We're going to prom, just not with mutants like you."

He sighs and looks at me apologetically before pushing from his seat. When he's finally gone, I look at Leslie incredulously.

"What the hell, Leslie? I'm not going to prom. I just told you that."

"I don't have a date and I'm still going."

"It's not about a date. It's...it's the principle of it all."

"You're lying! Stop using that as an excuse and just have fun for one night. Is it so difficult for you to have fun? Throw caution to the wind and shake your groove thang?"

I giggle and shake my head. "Shake my groove thang? What decade are you from?"

"Shut up. You know what I mean. Just...please? Please come with me?"

She gives me the sad eyes. I'm not affected by the sad eyes she uses on her step-dad to get him to agree to anything, as much as she's sure I am. I just hate the begging. It's annoying.

I sigh and grumble. "Fine."

She does a small dance in her chair and gives an inaudible squeal. "Come to my house after school, and we'll try on the dress."

When the bell rings for the end of the period, Leslie gathers her books and shoots up quickly. "Don't forget!" She calls over her shoulder and dashes out of the library so quickly I'm pretty sure she gives a few people whiplash.

My next period is Chemistry and I'm damn good at it. When most of my peers are failing or just scarping by, I'm getting an A with ease. I don't know what it is about the way chemicals react that excites me but I find I have a knack for it. With my books in my hand I turn and run into something solid and warm.

Already annoyed with this day and this person in my way, I snap my head up to get a good look at the human brick wall.

"Hey, Kenny," He smiles.

It's always that smile that has me.

Keoni Jeffers grew into those scrawny chicken legs I'd always teased him about and has put them to good use on the basketball court. His sandy brown hair has turned a few shades darker and is now a deep brunette like his mama's. Instead of a messy mop on his head, his hair is perfectly quaffed to one side and looks feathery soft. There is a very faint scar in the center of his lip that always makes me grin.

"What's going on, Keoni?"

He's ‘Keo' to everyone else because ‘Keoni' is too formal and most people mispronounce it, according to him. But he's always been Keoni to me, without any question or correction.

"Nothing, I just saw Fletcher storm out and saw you..."

I wave him off. "He was just being an idiot, as usual."

"If you want me to tell him to back off, I can. I won't have him messing with my girl."

My stomach does a back flip. The way he says it isn't passionately but still full of conviction. He has a good 3 inches on Jackson and I'm sure he can wipe the floor with him; if not get the basketball team to be my personal bodyguards for the rest of the year.

"It's fine. Don't worry about me."

"Ken, I always worry about you. You're my best friend."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself. As I recall, I handled you back in the day."

He chuckles and tilts his head to the side to give me an adorable lopsided grin. "That was a lucky shot. If I were as big then as I am now, you wouldn't try that."

"Wanna bet?" I stand on my tiptoes to try to make myself taller but I'm average height and there's no competing with Keoni's s 6-foot frame.

"Your line is, ‘wanna see?'" He points out with a smile.

My stomach does a double back flip. He remembers.

"I'm sorry. Wanna see?"

"You're stupid." His smile widens.

I try to hide my laughter. "And you're ugly."

"I don't remember you speaking so proper when we were seven."

I shrug and remember I need to get to class before we both get caught by the freshmen hall monitor. That kid is drunk with power.

"We've gotta get to class before—"

I groan inwardly when the tardy bell rings. Crap. I'm late.

"I'll call you tonight." Keoni says and starts to back away. "And if you don't pick up, I'll kick your butt."

I roll my eyes and bite my bottom lip as I head to class.

I started to suspect that I was in love with you when you'd smile at me and I'd get butterflies in my stomach. For a while, I thought it was just hormones or possibly indigestion. But it was you.