Prologue

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First day of 3rd Grade- Santa Rita Private Elementary School

"Watch where you're going!" 5th grader Emmett Becker called out to me after HE stepped on MY foot in the middle of the hallway.

"You watch where YOU are going!" I yelled back.
My family had just moved to Texas after my father Frank Phillips got a Psychiatry job at a military base in San Angelo. It was my first day of 3rd grade, and I knew no one except Emmett Becker, my across the street neighbor.

I'd gotten into the habit of calling Emmett by his last name, Becker. This is probably because we were on the same tiny tykes soccer team, and the coach called you by your last name when you were in trouble; "Becker, hit the bench" was kind of the coach's mantra. Plus, one time when I was in 4th grade, I called him Becker to his face, and he turned bright red. I guess it just stuck after that.

"Some little dweeb can't tell ME what to do!" Becker taunted while high-fiveing his friends as they all strut down the hallway.

"I'm not a dweeb!" I yelled back at him.

"You have frizzy pigtails and freckles. That makes you a dweeb, Trisha Phillips!!" Becker shouted over his shoulder before his friends' laughter drowned out anything I could've replied back.

At the end of the day, my mother picked me up in her convertible.

"How was your first day of school, Trish?" she said while checking her lipstick in the rearview mirror.

"It sucked." I remember pouting.

"Hey, we don't use that word! What was so bad about it anyway?" She added some mascara.

"Sorry, mom. I just... I made no friends."

"Wasn't Emmett there?"

This was my chance to tell my mom what Emmett said. I was too much of coward to take it though.

"I didn't see him," I lied.

"Well, his mom is friends with this lady from my work who happens to live just 5 houses down the street from us, so we're all going to have a dinner at our house tonight. You'll get to see him there."

As you can imagine, reader, that night was not very fun for me. Emmett seemed to enjoy himself immensely; every chance he got, he pulled my pigtails or flung mashed potatoes at me. Of course, our mothers thought it was a good sign, for some reason.

Three years later, my our 5 houses down neighbors, Dr Midge Greene, and her husband doctor Patrick had their first son, Weston. And Emmett Becker, for some reason, became their go-to babysitter. Three years after that, their daughter Laura was born. Emmett baby sat the both of them for three years more, then the job finally, and more adequately, went to me.

My mom, Dr Midge Greene, and Dr Erica Becker were now lifelong best friends, so it was no surprise that new mom Midge Greene suggested they started a weekly book club to escape from their incredibly busy lives and complain about their children, lovingly of course. Each of their husbands loved the idea of having a guys night, and until Emmett reached 15, the husbands took turns taking all the kids to Kids Kingdom, a playground not too far from our houses. Once Emmett was 15, he watched us upstairs in whoever's house it was that night, much to my dismay. I kept trying to tell my mom that I didn't need a babysitter, but she was strangely adamant that it was a good idea. I was 13.

It wasn't until High School that Emmett Becker seriously struck again, though. It was his senior homecoming, and my sophomore one. All of my friends, who were in orchestra whereas I was in band, had a concert that night and cancelled last minute. My mom called up Emmett Becker's mom, much to my embarrassment, and asked if I could join his group for the night. You'll never believe what Becker said! "If no one else wants to go with her, why would I?" I really shouldn't have heard it, but our house phone was on speaker. My mom ran to the phone and took it off speaker, giving me an apologetic smile and whispering, "boys will be boys."

One year later, and he was finally off to college. He went to San Angelo University for some med science undergrad program like both of his parents. I set my sights a bit higher and got into Baylor for Environmental Health Science. But you would imagine my surprise when as I was entering my penultimate year, Erica Becker informed my mother that Emmett Becker was accepted into medical school at Baylor. My mother squealed. I sighed. At least we would barely see each other; well, except for breaks. Winter break especially...

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