You’re The Only Friend I Need

It was hard to miss the sound of multiple variations of laughter overlapping one another. It was a sound that represented a handful of feelings, the feeling of judgment, the feeling of nostalgia, the feeling of excitement, and the list goes on. For me, it represented the feeling of longing. 

As a nine-year-old, I watched that large group of high schoolers pass by me in the park, feeling a rush of questions slip into my mind. I tilted my head back and watched how they could not even walk straight on the pathway that ran throughout the park. I could still hear their laughter, and I am not going to lie, it was contagious. 

I wondered what they were laughing about. They seemed like they were having so much fun. There were so many of them too. How can people have that many friends? Oh, I cannot wait until I am their age. My group of friends will be as big as theirs, and we will all have so much fun together. I cannot wait for that day to come. 

As I sat with an empty chair next to me, I let my eyes land on the clock above the whiteboard. One hour and thirty more minutes until I can officially label this day “the worst first day of school ever.” 

With my chin resting on my hand, I scanned the teacher as he stood up from his desk and made his way to the front of the classroom. As soon as he opened his mouth, I let myself tune him out. He was going to introduce himself, introduce the course, and get the class to play a game of two truths and a lie. That was my assumption. That is what the rest of my teachers did today. I did not need to repeat that for the fourth time today. 

Suddenly, my gaze trailed off my new teacher as it landed on this girl who closed the door a bit abruptly. 

The classroom filled with silence for a while before the teacher invited her to take a seat. She nodded at the teacher as she walked towards the only empty seat in the class, the one next to me. 

I thought she looked scary. She had that judgmental look in her eye, the kind that you would find in mine after a group of obnoxious boys passed by me. 

I fully expected a slur of groans to leave her lips after I complimented the top she was wearing, but that did not happen. Instead, she smiled at me and I realized that she did not resemble a snob at all. “Thanks, I thrifted it,” she told me. 

I learned that her name was Alina and that she was from Austria. I asked her why she would move from such a beautiful country in Europe to a city like Surrey in Canada. All she did was laugh before telling me that she was an exchange student. That cleared all my confusion, but it allowed a sense of annoyance to hit me because of course, the only friend I have made so far is only staying here for one school year. But it felt nice ending the school day with something exciting for once. 

It did not take long for us to get close. From that day on, Alina and I were glued to the hip. We had so many things in common. From our music taste to our sense of humour, she was my twin. 

I still envied the large friend groups I would pass by in the hallways. It seemed nice having a lot of people to rely on, and the blending of laughter was something I still wanted to experience. 

This longing would always disappear whenever I was with Alina though. During lunches, we would walk around the school as we talked about things on our minds that day. And we would speak in the most atrocious English accents while discussing these topics as well. We were fully aware of the chaos that occurred whenever we were around each other, and we loved it. 

People outside of school had to witness the ridiculousness of the duo that we were too. We would always plan to hang out in Vancouver during the weekends or when we had a day off school. We even made a name for these hangouts. We called them “The Big City Gyal Trips,” which is absurd, but at this point, what do you expect? 

I still remember every single detail of these trips. It would be hard to forget. One time we were inside the elevator of Lonsdale Quay Market. Before the elevator doors closed, a man as old as my grandpa stepped inside. He greeted us with a “hello.” I will never forget the looks Alina and I gave each other when we immediately noticed his English accent. I could tell she wanted to laugh because the memory of us circulating the school speaking to each other like Mary Poppins slipped into her mind. Suddenly, the man asked us a question that caught us off guard. He asked if we had any money and Alina could not hold it in by then, she had to let out her contagious laughter. I told him we did not have money because I feared getting robbed. While I was trying to maintain my composure, Alina was trying to conceal her laughter by covering her mouth. The man told us to bring money next time because North Vancouver is expensive. We nodded at his words, and he politely waved us bye as he stepped off the elevator. The elevator doors closed in on us just before we managed to get off. The only thing you could hear in that elevator was the sound of laughter blending to construct the most obnoxious sound you could ever hear. 

We spent her last day in Canada in Vancouver. I can recall every single aspect of the last day I spent with her, but I would much rather keep it to myself because it would get me emotional. She would make fun of me for admitting that. 

I remember crying a lot on the day she left. I have honestly never cried over a friend before, at least not like how I cried over Alina. 

I have never had a friend with the same exact music taste as me, a friend who finds the out-of-pocket things I say normal, or a friend who understands my thought process. I have never had a friend like Alina before, and now she is leaving to go back to her home country, and I will be back longing for that large friend group I have been wanting since I was little in hopes of filling that void that she will leave me with. 

But that longing is gone. It has swept away from my desires ever since Alina entered my life. The sound of one hundred people laughing together will never compare to the laughter Alina and I shared. And as I walk side by side with the friends I made this year, our laughter overlapped with one another, I guess I could say that I did end up getting that high school friend group. But I will forever long for the day when I hear Alina’s and my laughter blended together again.