The heavy door creaked open and the pebbles crunched under our feet as we stepped into the gym. The lights were bright and the huge room was silent, except for the methodical thumping of a basketball on the other side of the court. My best friend, Hannah, and I walked through the building and entered the supply room. We immediately noticed the strong scent of rubber. We grabbed an under inflated basketball and went back into the gym to shoot hoops. It was a hot, muggy August day, and we had just escaped into the air conditioned building while everyone was eating lunch. Well, apparently not everyone.

Our attention was turned to the thumping basketball and its owner. He was a tall, skinny boy with dark brown hair wearing a light blue lacrosse t-shirt and shorts, and a baseball hat turned backwards. He was completely silent and lousy at basketball, but he was hyper-focused on his game anyway. He didn’t even seem to notice our presence; he continually caught the ball off the backboard and then chucked it in that general direction again. He didn’t look our way, or see anything else in the room. He seemed to be in his own world. We sat on the bleachers as our ball rolled away, enthralled by his awkward free throws, and seriously entertaining the idea that he could be deaf and mute. He still hadn’t seemed to see that we were there. All of a sudden, he looked up at us and jogged over, his ball and game forgotten in an instant. He just stood there in front of us and was silent for a moment. I think he stared into the very depths of my soul. Out of nowhere, his squeaky little voice uttered,

“Hi. I’m Drew.” He then sprinted out of the gym as if his life depended on it.

Hannah and I looked at each other, and then just burst out laughing. I knew from that moment on that Drew and I would be friends.

For the rest of the summer, I did my best to include Drew in my daily activities. There weren’t many other kids to hang out with in the Martha’s Vineyard neighborhood other than Hannah, who has been my best friend since we started our family tradition of staying there every summer. Staying inside was not an option, because the days were so beautiful and warm. Drew and I would play lacrosse pass and swim all day long. Since his family was new to our annual community of summer renting friends, I showed him around the town and the island. He remained shy and silent, except for the occasional outbursts of random facts or reactions. One time, we were walking on the beach around noon. This had become something that we did everyday because around noon was the best time to swim. We were taking a walk to find our choice swimming spot of the day. As we meandered by a volleyball game, he asked,
“Did you know that volleyball is the second most popular sport in the world, exceeded only by soccer?” He bent over to pick up the volleyball. It had rolled away from the game and he returned it to the players on the court.
“That’s cool,” I replied. It was a pretty random statement and the most he had said to me all day, because he was typically very quiet.
We went our separate ways at the end of the summer, and I assumed that that was the end of our friendship. I was wrong.

Every summer since, Drew and I have spent the three short months together waterskiing, swimming, tubing, and trying to desperately to gain some basketball skills. Our parents had become good friends, so as a result, our families stayed together all summer. We would go blueberry picking and kayaking when it was nice out. When the weather was dark and rainy, we would stay inside and watch movies.

A couple of years ago, however, everything changed. I remember our families having a bonfire on the beach. Usually, Drew and I were too cool for these family gatherings, so we would go with our siblings out paddleboarding at night with headlamps. That particular night, however Drew stayed put. He had been acting strangely all day. He didn’t want to go for our daily swim, or go to the basketball courts. He didn’t even want to ride our bikes to go and get ice cream. I knew something was up, but I just assumed that he wasn’t feeling well. He politely declined the invitation to join us paddleboarding as if he was a stranger with our families. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. But later that night when we all came back, he pulled me aside. We walked on the beach, and he said,

“I need to tell you something. When we first met, that time in the gym, I was so lonely. I had no one to hang out with. I was so happy you walked in that day, and that we got to hang out during that summer. But now, I don’t think we should be friends anymore. You’re kind of annoying. No offense.”

I stared at him in shock. Did he really just say that? Why would anyone think that that’s a socially acceptable way to end a friendship? I can think of a million better ways to stop being friends with someone. I’m going to slap him across the face. Who just says that? I stared at him square in the eyes, hoping I would scare the crap out of him. He got a little bit uncomfortable under my death glare. Without saying a word, I simply walked away. Two could play this game. If he had the nerve to say that, I would have the nerve to make his life miserable.
The next morning, my mother sat me down and gave me a talk on the importance of forgiveness.

“Drew’s mom called last night after you went to bed. She said he came home crying last night because he felt bad about what he had said.”
I was shocked that he had the guts to feel any emotion other than sheer terror, but remorse was the next best thing.

“Let me tell you something I’ve learned about life and friendships. Forgiving is one of the most important things you can do, especially when one of your close friends does something like Drew did to you. That’s just how things work. And I know that it can be a very hard thing to do, but the sooner you learn how to forgive, the sooner you see life through a different lens. Not the cynical lens that is so easy to use, but the loving one.”

The only thing I could think of at the time was how well my glare had worked. I was pleased, to say the least.

During the rest of the summer, I learned what my mom meant by saying how important forgiveness is. I did my best to avoid Drew for the next couple of days, but finally he came up to me and apologized. I looked him square in the eye, and wanted to scream at him for being stupid. But suddenly, something small inside of me whispered something about forgiveness. Without giving it a second thought, I forgave him. I told him what my mom had told me, and how when your dumb friends do dumb stuff, you forgive them.

Drew and I are friends again. We still go paddleboarding together during family bonfires, and we’re both still terrible at basketball. I don’t know why he felt the need to try to end our friendship, and when I ask him, he refuses to talk about it. That moment changed the way I saw friendships. If something like that were to happen again, I would try to understand what was going on rather than trying to make the other person feel belittled and upset. Although my encounter with Drew was strange, I learned from my mother how vital forgiveness is in all types of relationships, and how important it is to forgive rather than tear people down. Learning to forgive freely has been one of the most important parts of life I’ve to learned to accept, and I can thank Drew for that.