Me at 15's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

By Monday I could put weight on my ankle again but Mom said to use the chair one more week just to be safe. I rolled into homeroom and a girl sat down next to me. She had short dark hair and a backpack covered in band patches. She said her name was JP and asked if I needed help getting anywhere. I said no but she walked with me to second period anyway, holding doors without making it feel like charity. At lunch she sat across from me and asked what music I liked. I told her about the Bobby Sherman album I'd been listening to and she didn't laugh or roll her eyes. She said she had it too. JP came over after school on Wednesday. We sat under the maple tree outside my apartment building because the weather was still warm and my room felt too small for two people. She brought her math homework and I brought mine. We didn't talk much, just worked through problems and listened to the album on my portable radio. When a song we both liked came on, she hummed along and I did too. Nobody had ever just existed next to me like that before, not wanting anything, not disappointed by anything. I didn't have to perform or prove myself. I could just be there. She came over twice more that week. The second time she walked me through the hallways at school, pointing out which teachers were strict and which bathrooms to avoid. The third time we sat under the tree again and she told me about the row of townhomes where she lived, the blue one in the middle with the balcony. She said I should come over sometime. I said maybe. I wanted to but I didn't know how to be in someone else's space without feeling like I was taking up too much room. She didn't push. She just nodded and went back to her homework. By the next Monday my ankle was healed enough that I didn't need the chair anymore. I walked into homeroom and JP waved me over to the seat next to hers. I sat down and she asked how my ankle felt. I told her it was better. She said good, and that was it. No big celebration, no making it into something it wasn't. The wheelchair was gone but JP wasn't. I'd spent the last few weeks thinking the chair was what made this friendship possible, that once I could walk again I'd go back to being invisible. But she stayed. I hadn't earned it by being hurt or needing help. She just liked me. That was the part I couldn't write down because I didn't have words for it yet. For the first time since the move to Oshawa, I thought maybe living my best life didn't mean doing it alone.