They are the only ones who see me as normal. I am the only one who doesn’t tease them. Three tiny friends with little legs and small statures like mine. Three who stick together through and through. Three spunky teens tossed into a big world. From my locker, I see them, but someone steps in front, and they disappear from view.

Their bond is no secret. They yell jokes from across the halls. They never grow up and people look down, and grab the things from the bottom shelf and curse the top one with hateful words and never quit their resentment. This is how they live.

Let one forget the beauty of their difference, they’d all shatter like glass, each holding the others up. Short, short, short they hear when they pass. They ignore.

When I am too tired and too testy to ignore it, when I am a tiny thing against a world of giants, then it is I look to my friends. When there is no one else to fix my slashed confidence. Three who never grew despite time. Three who will never be able to reach the top. Three whose only goal is to grow stronger and grow.