Weird

"And then I said," I pause for dramatic effect, "not on my watch!" When I finish, I look at him expectantly.

Adam blinks at me, taking a second to process what I said, before bending over with laughter. "Oh, God! You didn't!" he guffaws. "The only reason you didn't get slapped senseless is because she didn't get your joke, Ben! She's bound to catch up to your sarcasm soon enough and your luck will run out, buddy."

"Nah. She'll never get it." I beam pleased with myself because Adam is still laughing and if he thinks it's funny, then I don't care if no one else gets it. "She's too busy checking you out to pay attention to what I'm saying," I add.

We're walking home from school, backpacks on our backs and a light spring in our steps, because, you know, no more school for the day.

He shakes his head, still chuckling a little. "You have such a twisted sense of humor…"

I peek at him, feeling slightly embarrassed now.

I always try to contain myself in front of strangers, because I know I am kind of weird and most people don't understand it, but when I'm alone with Adam, I let my guard down and some of my weird slips out sometimes.

I assume Adam isn't bothered by my weirdness, but when he makes an observation like that, my confidence wavers and I begin to doubt myself.

The thought that he might think I am twisted and weird stings inside, and I self-consciously retreat into myself, like a snail touching salt.

"Sorry," I mumble and he notices the change in my demeanor right away.

"No, I didn't mean it as a bad thing. It's twisted in a cool way. You kind of need to be a bit smart to understand it, you know?"

"It's okay, Coop, I know I'm weird," I mumble and scratch the inside of my arm awkwardly.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being weird," he says solemnly. "Plus, no one is normal, if you look close enough."

"You're pretty normal." I note, glancing up at him.

"You're not looking close enough then." He teases me with a nudge on the ribs. "Actually, I feel a bit insulted by this," he adds as an afterthought. "I'm your best friend, we spend almost all of our time together and you still haven't realized that I'm just as weird as you are? So much for thinking you actually pay attention to me..."

"Sorry," I mumble and glance guiltily at the pavement, but then I stop in my tracks. "Wait. Is this your way of guilt-tripping me, so that I'll stop feeling bad about myself for being weird?"

He grins mischievously. "Did it work?"

"For about five seconds, yeah."

He laughs it off. "Come on, you big oaf," he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me along with him. "I don't care if you're weird or not, Ben. You will always be my best friend, no matter what."

I smile and let him drag me back home.