Old Friends

I met an old friend on the bus the other day. I had stayed at Corrie’s house the night before and was going to school. I got on the bus and as I was sitting down I heard some one say my name. I looked to where I had heard it and didn't know who it was for a second. Oh, hey! I said cheerfully. It was Andre, I grew up with him and his family around all the time. They were immigrants from Romania and our family was helping them with the transition. I haven’t seen him for at least 4 or 5 years, and I remember him as a scrawny 12 year old that liked playing cars with me on my kitchen floor. It was weird seeing him grown up. As I realized who he was I suddenly became conscious of my appearance. I don't know why this happened. It's not like I care what anyone else thinks of my bright orange plaid jacket from Value Village or whether my hair is wind blown and looks a mess. Maybe I wanted to impress the past, show him that I had grown up and was a relatively normal person. We talked for a bit, where we were going, what school we went to, and just in general how we were. It was nice too see him again. Good memories brought back and refreshed.