Let me properly introduce my best friend, Abby…last name Jones. She had been my best friend since 1st grade and she had decided that it was not a good idea for me to be living alone.
So, she told her mom and dad that it was time for her to leave the family nest. And so she did. She moved three doors down the block to my second bedroom.
Abby Jones. Everyone should be so lucky to have a friend like Abby. In 3rd grade during recess, two really mean girls had pushed me down into a pile of dirty snow. My brand-new red Christmas coat was ruined; stained with salt and wet sludge from the street.
Now in 3rd grade, you just don’t go crying to the teacher if someone pushes you down. Right? Right. So I told my mom (who most certainly would have gone to see the teacher) that I had slipped on some ice and fallen.
But Abby Jones was my very best friend and she wasn’t just mad. She was fuming.
The next day, she somehow managed to get the two girls alone in the bathroom before school started. I was the look-out, standing just inside the door so I wouldn’t attract attention.
I’m not exactly sure what she said, she was talking very quietly, but I heard the words “mob”, “not really Jones”, “call in a favor” and “not very pretty”.
I looked back over my shoulder and the two girls were standing there with their mouths hanging open. Abby was a pretty awesome storyteller. She watched a lot of TV.
Then she did the classic “I’ll be watching you” bit and put two fingers to her eyes and then pointed them back at the girls.
She then turned on her little “Mary Jane patent leather” heel, grabbed my arm and we walked out into the hall just as the bell rang for class to begin.