Loser Lessons

There Are Big Ships and Small Ships. But the Best Ship of All is Friendship.

"There Are Big Ships and Small Ships.  But the Best Ship of All is Friendship."

 “How bad were you?” Carson asked, taking a bite out of his sandwich. It was lunchtime on Friday, and we were eating in the library together again. Ever since he forgave me we hung out every day at lunch and in whatever classes we had together.

                “What do you mean?” I questioned.

                “At your old school, how mean were you?”

                I swallowed, I really didn’t want to tell him, but I was going to be a better person so I was just going to have to accept who I had been. “Take a stereotypical cheerleading, popular, snobby blonde girl and times that by at least ten.”

                “Yeah right,” he waved it off. “There’s no way.”

                “There is,” I nodded. “I was really mean, and I only thought of myself. I thought I was the coolest person ever…not saying that I’m not… you’re just not supposed to act like it,” I joked.

                “Why?”

                “I don’t know,” I pursed my lips. “I guess it gave me power?” I let out a small laugh, “It kind of backfired on me considering now I’m an outcast and have no friends.”

                “Oh, so I’m just chopped liver, am I?” Carson laughed.

                My heart tightened, “Wait, you’re my friend?”

                Carson put his sandwich down and looked at me serious now, his eyes searching mine. “Well, that’s what I considered us.”

                “Aw, really?” I grinned, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a hug. “Thank you, Carson Davis.”

                “Stop calling me that,” he groaned, patting me awkwardly on the back. “I’m regretting telling you my last name.”

                “Does that mean you’re not going to tell me your middle name?” I asked, pulling away from him.

                “That’s exactly what it means, Annalise May Fitzgerald.”

                I grinned, “Why are you so awesome, Carson?”

                “Born with it,” he shrugged taking another bite of his sandwich.

                “Sure,” I ruffled his hair with my hands.

                “Stop that!” he grumbled, leaning away from me.

                We sat in silence as Carson ate some of his lunch. I had only lost two pounds, so I was still eating salad. “Thanks for being my friend,” I said, resting my head on my arm, looking at him.

                “Thanks for not being a jerk anymore,” he teased.

                “I’m being serious.”

                “So am I.”

                I sighed, “Well thank you. It’s nice to have somebody to talk to and stuff. I didn’t really have anybody at my old school because I was so worried about saying the wrong thing and getting made fun of.”