The Boy I Hate

Three.

I had lived in Sugar Port my entire life and it had been clear to me since I was a toddler that I was not to associate with those on the west side of the lake. The small Vermont city had an unspoken rulebook that was not to be broken. There were two sides; the east and west. The wealthy and the poor. One side of the lake occupied debutantes and business men, while the other remained a blue collar society. However, that fact was not unique to Sugar Port - globally, wealth breeds poverty.

When I was little I didn't think I had to follow the rules. I wanted to play with all the kids I met, not just those that could afford to get me expensive birthday presents. I guess that's why Richard, Charlie, and I became an inseparable trio. Believe it or not we were all attached at the hips.

Theres one park that sits on the border of the east and west - right by the shoreline of Sugar Lake. That's where Rich and I met Charles. We were having a playdate there, as our parents often arranged, and when Charlie asked us to play tag we saw no reason to refuse. My childhood memories are faint, but I remember nights in Charlie's treehouse and days drawing our names in the sand. I spent years watching the two boys grow slowly taller while they threw a baseball back and forth.

Of course our parents disapproved, but they never forcibly asked us not to be friends. The town's civil war was a secret kept by us all - they couldn't outwardly enforce our separation.

It was all swell until the late grades of elementary school. Suddenly our social standings were becoming more apparent, and at twelve years old it's nearly impossible to ignore that stuff. So, steadily, Charlie stopped coming around.

The amount of effort I put into trying to remain his friend was ridiculous. I came by his house every time he cancelled plans because he was sick. I left little notes in the treehouse telling him I missed him. God, I felt like an idiot for an entire year of him ignoring me. Richard gave up long before me. I only finally got the message that he wanted nothing to do with me when he attached a bike lock to his tree house door to keep me out.

I hated him for it. I couldn't stand the invisible lines dividing us, and it drove me crazy to know that he accepted them as truth. In the end, he gave up on our friendship, which was something I could never forgive him for.

The bad blood was even worse between Charles and Richard. While I remained sad for years over the loss of my friendship with Charlie, Richard was furious right away. My resentment built overtime, but those two boys couldn't look each other in the eye since the day Charlie started pulling away.

It all got worse when Richard became the star pitcher for East Port Academy while Charles became the best batter West High had. The baseball rivalry between our two schools was perhaps worse than the resentment of the entire town. It all added up to the prank war they had going on now.

"I thought you were kidding, Bob."

"Who invited you to my kidnapping?" I snapped.

He rolled his eyes, removing his denim jacket with a slight smirk. Cocky bastard.

Charles and Bobby started a hushed conversation, presumably discussing the situation at hand. Perhaps he came with an update on when Rich would be coming to get me. At least then his presence would come with some purpose. The conversation seemed slightly heated though, as if Charlie were angry about something.

When they concluded their conversation Charlie leaned back up against a wall and Bobby came to sit crosslegged a couple feet away from me. It then remained silent far too long for comfort. I had to force myself to cough a couple times to ease the tension. Bobby must've felt the same way I did because he broke the silence, "anyway... you want to play go fish?"