Feeling the bus brakes seethe to a halt, I lift up my head and open my eyes. Out of habit, I look around to make sure I didn’t drop anything and I suddenly see an unfamiliar face. Then I remember that the only open seat had been the one in the front row, right next to her.  She smiles and giggles, “You must have stayed up late last night.” I realize, to my horror and embarrassment, that I have been sleeping on this girl’s shoulder for the past forty minutes. Turning red, I look away, fix my messy hair, and check in my iPod’s reflection to see if I have any drool marks at the corners of my mouth. Gathering my book bag, I answer, “Yeah. I guess,” and quickly escape from the bus.
I glance at my schedule and immediately find my first period class. I rush into math and sit down in an empty chair, hoping to organize my planner in the minute or so before the bell rings. ‘Sixth grade is already off to a great start, I think. Moments later, my new classmates start to flood in, and to my surprise, I spot the same girl from the bus. Extremely uncomfortable, I look away. She doesn’t seem to share my feelings of awkwardness and instead sits directly next to me. As the teacher walks in, the chatter fades to an anxious hush and class starts. Mrs. Talbott writes her name on the chalkboard in large, loopy letters and reads the roster aloud to take roll. Listening closely, I learn the girl’s name is Natalie.
Class continues and the teacher goes on a tangent about the supplies we will need. As I was furiously scribbling down her every word, a spare pencil flies off the side of my desk as my elbow dances along the surface.. Clumsily, I look down at the floor and search for it. I feel a friendly tap on my shoulder and Natalie says with a genuine smile, “Here, I think you dropped this.” I take it from her palm and whisper, “Oh, um, thanks.” She nods. Anyone else would have snickered, but she went right back to her diligent note taking.
After 45 long minutes, math class is mercifully over. I sit in the chair, puzzled. Getting off the bus this morning, I had fully expected Natalie to attract a gaggle of girls to her locker and dazzle them with her hilarious tale of the stranger, their new classmate, passing out on her shoulder and possibly drooling onto her lavender t-shirt. Everyone would laugh, bond, and pass notes about me for the rest of the week. “Sleepy Sally” would be the refrain as I stepped onto the bus each morning. But for the whole day, I didn’t see anyone giving me weird looks or talking about me in the halls. I allowed myself to be cautiously optimistic that the incident wouldn’t define my identity for the rest of the semester. I wondered, “Why is this girl so nice to me, when she doesn’t even know me?” I decided that something about this had to be supernatural. It was as if the universe wanted me to be friends with Natalie.
After this fateful day, Natalie and I became inseparable. Her warm and caring heart always makes me feel safe and valued. She is forgiving even when she has every right to hold a grudge, a trait that was admirable in middle school and even more remarkable now that we are in high school.
In fifth grade, Natalie had been best friends with another girl and they had done everything together. The two of them had weekly sleepovers, ate lunch together, and chatted in the halls whenever they could. But in seventh grade, Natalie’s best friend left her for “better friends” and she told Natalie, “Don’t be so obsessed with me. I have other friends now and you can too.”
After a year, that girl came back to Natalie and asked for her forgiveness. She apologized over text, chat, and in person. She tried to act like nothing had happened. She said, “Can we just start over? I miss you!” Watching this unfold, I was livid on Natalie’s behalf.
If Natalie were any normal girl in high school, there would have been extreme drama; I had seen it happen almost daily. The girl who was betrayed would belittle her ex-best friend, in front of everyone. She would spread rumors about her and make sure people hated her. There would be no ‘friend’ anymore. That was just how betrayal was handled in the melodramatic world of teenagers.
But Natalie reacted in an unexpected way. She calmly answered, “I have no ill will towards you, and welcome your friendship.” When we talked about the situation over lunch, I saw the sympathy in her eyes. It’s incredible how she tackles tough situations so gracefully. She is the only person I know who takes the “clean slate” concept seriously.
Whenever I’m with Natalie, I can count on her loyalty. I feel prioritized from the rest of her other friends and that’s the core of a relationship. I trust that she will always put our friendship first.
Moreover, Natalie’s devotion to her family is admirable to witness. She always makes her family her utmost priority, and demonstrates devotion and respect for her parents, which all teenagers should try to emulate. Natalie is always thanking her parents and she’s grateful for everything that she has. She even feels no attachment to her belongings and is happy to share anything with her siblings and friends.
Once, while I was over at her house, her brother started whining because he had lost a toy truck. Natalie quickly ran upstairs, grabbed a special car of hers, and ran downstairs with her hand behind her back. She presented it to her brother and even though her mom said, “Natalie, you don’t have to,” she still gave it to him. Watching this, I was surprised, and a bit ashamed. I would have never done this for my sisters.
My parents have always said, “It's important to have good friends. They will influence you, whether you like it or not.” Natalie has inspired me to become more empathetic, especially towards my family. I see the way she conducts herself, never allowing a misstep, and I know I must exercise more patience and compassion in my own relationships.
A couple of years ago, over spring break, I bought tons of new shirts and shorts when I went to the mall. On Sunday night before school resumed, I noticed that one of my new shirts was laid out on my sister’s couch, as if she intended to wear it. I stomped in, and just as I was about to scream and whisk it away, I considered what Natalie would do. She would simply be flattered that her siblings liked what she had bought. I then found my sister and said, “So you’re wearing the shirt tomorrow.” She faced me with guilty eyes. I smiled and added, “Wear this matching scarf with it. It’s going to look so pretty on you.” My sister, who moments earlier had been so ready to get defensive and attack at the slightest hint of indignation from me, completely melted.
That’s when it really hit me. Natalie was making a meaningful impact on me, without being patronizing I was lucky to have found a friend like her. Even today, we laugh about how we met and swear it was destiny that brought us together.