Four
Winter
I’ve been looking forward to today all week. My eighth birthday is next week, and my parents got me my first big girl bike. It is a teal blue color and has no training wheels.
They let me have it early so I could practice riding it for today’s event. There’s a town-wide bike ride at the park to raise money for new playground equipment.
I’ve ridden up and down our long gravel driveway all week to ensure I can safely ride without training wheels and not look foolish.
The first day riding it didn’t go well. I fell a couple of times and got a nasty scrape on my knee. But it didn’t take long for me to get the hang of it, and I’m pretty proud of myself now.
Mom and I are carpooling with Saint and his mother. When they pull up to the house, she tells him, “Help Winnie get her bike in the back.” It’s hard because the bike is heavy, but I lift it enough for Saint to grab the handlebars and tug it up into the truck bed.
Since the moment I woke up today, I’ve been full of excitement, but now it’s slowly fading to nervousness.
Saint helps me as his mother instructed him, but he hasn’t even said hello or acknowledged me at all, which is weird.
He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember, but lately, he’s been strange, quieter than usual, and making excuses not to spend as much time with me. I don’t understand why.
When we get the bike in the back, I expect him to hop down, but he stays up there. I watch him as he leans down and starts messing with something near my front tire.
I ask him what he’s doing, but he doesn’t give me an answer. So I decide that if he doesn’t want to talk to me, then I won’t speak to him either. I stomp my way to the truck and climb into the back seat, being sure to slam the door.
Our mothers talk to each other the entire ride to town, but we sit in silence. When I look over to try to get his attention, he’s staring out the window.
The moms volunteered to help with the event, like they do for so many of the community functions.
We arrive at the park early, and everyone pitches in to set everything up.
I organized the sign-in table and decorated it with paper cutouts I had made, as well as some cute wildflowers I had picked at home.
As the event approaches, we all gather to unload our bikes from the truck. Mine is the last to get unloaded, and I’m distraught when I get it.
My front tire is completely deflated. I was so excited, and now I won’t be able to ride in the event because no one has an air pump to fill my tire.
My mom, who is crouched in front of me, tries to comfort me while I cry, but it’s not working.
Over her shoulder, I catch sight of Saint leaning against the truck, and he looks downright gleeful.
At first, I wonder why he seems happy about my tears, but then I remember him messing with my tire. I realize it’s because he did this! He’s the one who sabotaged my bike!
He was my best friend, but lately has not been acting very best-friend-like. This is unforgivable. As the race starts, I sit alone and watch everyone else ride while I think about how I’m going to make him pay.
It might not be today, tomorrow, or next week. But someday, he will pay for betraying me. He’s no longer my best friend. Now he’s my greatest enemy.