He’ll Stab Me From the Front

Warning: Explicit Content

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My friendship with the biggest jerk in the world.

About the Author: Jordan Simon (Creative Writing, Class of 2019) is at home in the realm of ink and paper. He typically writes short stories of varying genres, though his most preferred is horror. Capable in poetry and comfortable with anything relating to fiction, he is a well-rounded writer with a bit of a soft-spot for the dramatic. He hopes to use his degree to further himself in the journalism field, where he hopes to write articles and art pieces for a newspaper or magazine one day.

 

WARNING: This piece contains explicit content (swearing) and may not be appropriate for all audiences.

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I Call Him Best Friend

by Jordan Simon

 

Curtis Heath was many things: snarky, sarcastic, spiteful… amongst a whole list of uncharming adjectives.

Overall, an A+ asshole. But, honestly, I was really no better.

When we met for the first time in high school, it was safe to say that we’d hated each other immediately. He regarded me with an unimpressed glare, and blown a raspberry my way. Getting over the remarkably childish move, I’d acknowledged that we might never get along. I wasn’t wrong.

It was safe to say that we were at each other’s throats, from day one. He was particularly caustic when speaking to me, so I saw very little reason to treat him any other way. For our friends, the tension was a glass house and we were loaded stones, just waiting to fracture the fragile peace. Many times, we’d come nearly to blows with each other over downright petty topics. Our vitriol was a constant, and almost comforting presence, throughout my high school life.

Even now, nothing’s really changed; yet, I think… I’d trust him with my life.

To many who know us, we are bitter enemies. Rivals, with a particularly toxic spot in our hearts for each other. They’re not exactly wrong. But they’re not exactly right. The thing about Curtis is that for all of his faults, he’s loyal. And when you deal with someone’s bullshit for well over four years, nonstop, you tend to develop some thick skin; hell, it might even grow on you. That’s Curtis: a noxious fungus who grows on you until you’re all but immune to his shenanigans.

It took until Junior year for me to realize that, when, despite knowing of the delicate surgery I’d had done in my mouth, and even despite knowing of the sheer pain I’d been in and my inability to speak, he’d convinced a friend to slap me in the face. The pain was so much that for the first time in my life, I’d legitimately considered murder. Yet, against my better instincts, when his actions came to bite him in the ass, I knowingly covered for him.

When I cried for the first time in years over my vegetated sister and my rapidly collapsing relationship with my father, I’d gone to him. And he’d comforted me in the way only he could.

By calling me weak, and demanding that I “extract thine kahunas from thine purse.”

It helped… A lot.

So yes, a shitty person he might be, but despite all of his faults… for all of the bass ackwards bullshit he might pull, the stress he’s put me through, and the trouble he’s gotten me into… He’s my best friend. And no one else can fit that role.
Copyright © Jordan Simon (2016) All Rights Reserved.