Beginning in the 5th grade, John and I were best of friends. Having recently moved into my subdivision, John and I bonded over our shared love of the White Sox, Legos and trains. (I'll pause for a moment for you to stop laughing. Done? Okay.) John and I spent countless hours collecting and building model trains, walking on the railroad tracks that dotted our town and playing baseball in the nearby park. With the exception of fifth grade, we attended two different schools which probably helped us not get too tired of one another. Things, however, started to change during our junior year of high school once we both started driving and dating.
Busy going through my ugly-duckling stage, I refrained from dating until my later high school years (read: I got turned down from everyone I asked out). On the other hand, John quickly romanced a sophomore from his high school meaning the two of us hung out less frequently. John wisely used his driver's license to drive to her house and spend the majority of his time with her. Our phone calls became much shorter as he was usually "on the other line" with Raeanne. Then, word trickled back to me through mutual friends that John didn't want to walk the train tracks with me anymore because he had more important things to do (namely Raeanne). As with any coming-of-age story, Raeanne was the villain in my story. She was the first girl who took away my best friend and it took me a while to adapt and realize that I would later follow the same path. John and Raeanne dated for just about a year before breaking up in the months before he graduated and went away to college. I'm happy to report that John and I remain friends today.