Penny and I walked hastily to Ian’s front door and I let myself in. I knew the Wolfe’s well enough to do so. Mrs. Wolfe was making some spaghetti when I walked in and Anna, Ian’s little sister, was watching cartoons in front of the television. Mrs. Wolfe smiled at me sweetly. “Hello sweetheart, Ian’s in his room.” Her dark reddish brown hair was pulled into a messy bun and she was wearing no make-up. Poor Debra, she been like this ever since David died. She’s always so stressed. And I don’t blame her; she works two jobs and still has time to be a great mom.



I smiled back. “Thanks Deb. Do you need some help with dinner?”



“No, I think I can manage but thanks for the offer.” In the next second Anna was up on her feet and racing towards me, her long blond hair flowing behind her.



“Sam, Sam, Sam!” She yelled enthusiastically as she wrapped her tiny arms around my leg and motioned for me to pick her up. She was in kindergarten now. I lifted her up easily and wiped the hair out of her eyes.



“Hey Anna Banana!”



“Guess what?” Her voice was even more excited than before.



“What?”



“The tooth fairy came and took my tooth, and then she gave me a quarter!” She opened her mouth wide and pointed to a gap where one of her front teeth used to be. “See?”



“I do. That’s very cool!” I then saw Ian enter the room and gently set her down and as soon as her feet hit the floor she scampered off to go finish watching television. Ian smiled at me and Penny and motioned us to come to his room. Penny hurried in the direction Ian was motioning and I quickly glanced back at Debra.



“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” I asked sincerely but She just smiled then shook her head.







“It’s ok Sam” As she answered she looked up from her work briefly to glance at me and I could see the painful expression on her face. It appeared every time Ian was present. I knew why. Ian looked exactly like his father in every way possible, just looking at him brought back the dismal memory of his death. I turned away quickly not wanting to see the anguish on her face anymore and hurried into Ian’s room where he and Penny were already waiting.



Penny was lounging on an oversized navy blue bean bag while Ian was rummaging through a shelf near his bed. “What are you looking for?” Ian didn’t pause or acknowledge the fact that I had asked a question. I walked over to where he was and sat down cross-legged beside him waiting for a response. After a few moments Ian pulled out a large black book with white lettering on it. Our school yearbook. He got up silently and spread out on his bed then began flipping through the pages searching for the one he wanted. “What are you doing?” He still didn’t look up but this time answered.



“You never signed my yearbook, remember?” I pondered what he said and realized I hadn’t signed his yearbook then plopped down on the bed beside him and looked at the page he was open to. It was completely blank.



“Hmm, I thought you had a lot of friends Ian, why’s this page still blank?”



He got up from the bed and grabbed a sharpie from a drawer in his desk. “It’s your page, silly.”



“My page? I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve an entire page dedicated to me. Besides I don’t even write that much, it’s a waste of a perfectly good page where plenty of other people could have signed.”



“But I didn’t want them to. And you do deserve your own page. Your special to me and I wanted to make sure you had enough room to write whatever you wanted.” Ian took the cap off and handed me the sharpie. I hovered the marker over the paper for a long time contemplating what to write when I remembered Ian’s presence.





“Um Ian…”



“Uh huh.” He was very concentrated on the page in my yearbook. Curious at what I was going to write.



“Go away.”



“What? Why?” His tone was very defensive.



“I don’t want you to know what I’m going to write, at least not yet. Signing yearbooks doesn’t work that way.” Ian sighed.



“Ok, whatever you say.” He then got up to go join Penny who was now scanning through a pile of his old CD’s. I still couldn’t think what to write. Should I write something long and heartfelt? Short and sweet? I didn’t know so I just started to write how I felt. I started from the upper left corner and wrote on a diagonal.












Ian, you’ve been my friend for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what I would ever do without you. It seems you are one of the only people I will ever be able to give my heart to. I know I can always trust you and you’d never hurt me. I’ll always love you and try to be as good as a friend to you as you are to me.





















Your Friend,


















Sam Dawson



I smiled at my small message. It had only taken up a small amount of the page due to my very small handwriting. I thought about making it longer but then decided against it. I closed the book and neatly placed it back in its spot on the bookshelf and went to where Penny and Ian were still looking at his music collection.



“So what’d you write?” Ian asked making his way over to the bookshelf. I quickly cut in front of him blocking his way.
“You can read it later.” I insisted. Ian groaned and walked towards his stereo system. I watched as he shuffled through the songs on his MP3 player until he found something suitable. I liked the song. I had never heard it before but it had the kind of feel I liked. Soft acoustic guitar and very bubbly sounding. The kind of song you can’t help smiling to. I listened for lyrics but there weren’t any.



“What song is this?” I asked while heading over to sit on the bean bag.



“It doesn’t have a name but I thought you might like it.” Ian said as he came to join me on the enormous seat. “Do you?”



“Yes, I love it.” He smiled.



“Good, because I wrote it.” I stared confused into the corner of Ian’s room where is guitar was. I never saw him play it anymore, at least not since his dad died. It used to be David’s, and Ian and him used to play it together, I supposed it was just too depressing to do since he was gone.



“Ian, did you really?”



“Yes. I guess it turned out better than I expected.” I wanted to ask Ian his reason for picking up the guitar again but then decided I wouldn’t ruin the moment by suddenly turning it sour by reminding him of his dad. Ian’s memory of his dad’s death might be even more painful than his mothers. At least she had the chance to say goodbye to him. Ian’s father wouldn’t allow him or then baby Anna to come visit him at the hospital in the state he was in. The chemotherapy had left him frail and tired. He didn’t want anyone to remember him that way. He finally allowed Debra into his hospital room the morning before his death. Once she stepped foot into the hospital she didn’t leave his side until the next day when he didn’t wake up from his slumber. She says she was always glad he had died in his sleep and at least he didn’t have to live through the agony of pancreatic cancer any longer.



“Well it’s beautiful.” I saw Ian’s cheeks begin to turn red from the flattery. He then turned to Penny who by now had taken a seat on Ian’s bed and was tapping her foot and bobbing her head to the beat of the song.



“Sam’s right Ian. It is beautiful. I would have never guessed you of all people had been bottling up such an excellent talent for music.” By now Ian’s face had turned fire-engine red.



“Stop it. I know it’s ok, but seriously, you don’t have to lie to me just because you think it makes me feel good.” I playfully nudged him in the ribs with my elbow.



“Really Ian, it’s good.” Penny nodded reassuringly and Ian’s smile grew bigger than I’d seen it in a long time. He then proudly stood up and faced Penny and I very regally.



“Well this calls for a celebration!” Penny’s face looked puzzled so Ian continued on. “To celebrate my successful attempt to write a song worth listening to, we shall have a feast!” I raised my eyebrows at him curiously but all he did was mimic me comically before he exited the room. Penny and I both shot each other confused glances until Ian finally returned a short while later. In one hand he held a metal tray carrying three large root beer floats in frosted mugs, and in the other an enormous bowl of cheese popcorn. I smiled. Cheese popcorn was my absolute favorite. He handed Penny and I each our desserts then sat the bowl on his nightstand. Subsequently he lifted his mug. “A toast, to my song.” Penny and I copied Ian’s actions and are glasses all chimed together harmoniously. Ian then took his seat next to me in the bean bag, but not before grabbing the bowl of cheesy deliciousness I couldn’t wait to begin stuffing in my watering mouth. He laughed as I eyed the snack like a carnivorous animal before finally placing it on my lap. “All for you.”