um…dibs…on that one.

I was listening to a radio station the other morning on my way to work and the topic of choice was calling dibs.  On people.  Like, girls learn the rules to calling dibs on guys they think are cute at an early age.

Like, in middle school.

This little radio bit made me remember an instance between my at-the-time-best-friend Ashley and myself.  We were sitting at the lunch table doing what all pre-teen girls do…talking ad nausem about makeup and clothes and boys.

Then she springs something on me I’m really  not expecting.

She thinks a boy named Logan is cute.

I didn’t even know who Logan was until she pointed him out a few tables down.  He was in our little “pod” of classes.  Our school had it set up in such a way that four different subject teachers located in close proximity and their students were one “pod.”  We would all have to take English, Social Studies, Science and Math but our schedules were created in such a way that we “changed classes” like the slightly more grown-up, cooler teens who can drive, do in high school.

Eventually, I don’t really know how it happened…I think I blocked it from memory…but I started to talk with and try to find ways to be around Logan.

One second…let us review: Ashley’s crush.  I didn’t even know him.  And it wasn’t like I was doing reconnaissance for her during my get-to-know-Logan escapades.

The next thing I know, I’m sitting in the bleachers at a basketball game against one of our rivals with Logan.

And without Ashley.

When my dad walked in to pick me up he went ballistic on me, telling me I should NEVER be in the bleachers – let alone anywhere – with a boy and without supervision.

I got mad and left the game in tow of my fuming father, horrified because I thought everyone within ear shot thought I had the most awful dad ever.  I mean, it wasn’t like I was BEHIND the bleachers and alone with a boy.  His mom was five feet away a few rows down from us… and it wasn’t like any hanky panky was going on.  Just talking.  Geez.

That night is what sealed the deal.  For me.  Not for Ashley.

And I never even gave it a second thought.  Like, for instance, what would my best friend who confided in me that she liked this boy think?  Does she still still like him?  Is she mad at me?  Should I back off?

The morning talk show people were saying how the girl that commits this haneous crime thinks she’s the hottest one in the group and in girl-speak: no one wants to BE that girl.  That girl is mean.  And conceited.  And a bad friend.

I was a bad friend.

And Ashley, true best friend that she was, never said anything.  She just accepted Logan and my blossoming relationship and we kept spending the night at each others houses and passing notes and trading clothes to wear on picture day.

Obviously, the whole Logan thing didn’t work out but when our exciting new relationship fizzled later that school year, he and Ashley started becoming closer and closer.  Since Ashley spent countless months as the third wheel, asking Logan what he thought about me or my outfit or whatever stupid questions I was too afraid to ask him myself, she got to know Logan really well. 

Inevitably, something happened between the two…my now ex and my best friend.  Kind of like what happened between Logan and I on the bleachers all those months ago.

What did Ashley do?

She asked me if it would be ok if she dated him.

She ASKED ME.

And she ended up NOT going out with him because she thought it would be weird between she and I.

Yeah…exactly…what I failed to do.

So, though there is a one in ten billion chance said Ashley will ever see this…and you know who you are…there was only one Ashley who I spent my entire seventh grade and countless soccer practices with…the Ashley who I had the fight with at the library with and when my mom picked us up we didn’t talk the whole way back and when you got out of the car my mom looked at me like, “what happened?”….if you are reading…I really am sorry. 

That wasn’t exactly very nice of me…

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