For Sale

The "for sale" sign hung solemnly in his front yard, and swayed silently in the wind as the bus pulled away. "We're moving May 19 whether we sell it or not," his dad had said, "We can't put this off anymore."

I'd been friends with Eli since the 5th grade. I'd just moved here from France and spoke barely any English at all. Every day Eli would bring me some object, and teach me how to say it. It started with an apple, and he brought something for me every day. The objects started getting silly and meaningless, like cotton balls, or a bar of soap. But of the last day of 7th grade, Eli brought me a necklace, tied to a folded index card with "neck-liss" written on it. By the end of 7th grade I spoke fluent English, but had trouble holding conversations with people. Eli was the only one I trusted, and honestly, the only one I openly talked to.

Well, now it's our junior year of high school, and I've made many friends since then. But I'm sure you know, friends turn on you. In my case, I never trusted any of my friends. No matter how many times they slept over, or how many hours we talked on the phone, almost all of them ended up leaving me for someone more popular, or prettier. Eli always assured me he'd be here for me when I was sad, and he always kept his promise. Eli was all I had. Mon seul ami.
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I'll never forget the day Eli showed up at my front door, holding a toy moving truck. It was fall, and it was raining and sleeting, and instead of falling crisply to the ground to be stepped on my countless toddlers, the leaves were being knocked off trees by pellets of ice. Eli continued to explain to me that he was moving to New York, and he would call me as often as possible. "I'm so sorry, Aline."
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I never got an explanation. Nothing. A goodbye, a sorry, and a humongous collection of random objects. It's been one year, and I've moved on for the most part. I'm dating Sam, a senior like me. He yells at me sometimes, but it's ok, because being around him, and knowing I have a boyfriend, keeps my mind off Eli. There's nothing special about my life, I go to school, come home, and translate bills and letters into French for my parents. They always say we're going to move back to France, but I know we won't. All the houses back in Limogues are far too expensive. I miss France, but I miss Eli far more. I've never heard from him, but I know he'll call, or send a letter sometime. My best friend is a girl named Elise, Sam's friend. Elise and I used to only talk when Sam was around, but she seems to understand what I'm going through. I think she dated Sam sometime in the past, because she knows he yells at me. I know it's stupid to stay with him, but he's never hit me or anything. He just yells at me, and never uses any manners. I know I'll be ok, because when Eli comes back, I'll have a friend in this world again.
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"Aline, I'm moving back!" Eli exclaimed happily.

How did I get here? There aren't any cafes within a 50 mile radius of my house... "Eli, no you're not. I'm dreaming." I said sadly.

And with that, he was gone. Poof. I'd had these dreams so often I could tell that I was dreaming. They always occurred in the most bizarre of places, like tennis courts, helicopters, and cafes. The dreams became more and more believable every night though, like this one. I remembered this cafe from Limogues. My hometown in Limosin, where I was raised. Until, of course, when we moved here when I was starting 5th grade.
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Thank you for reading, and I hope you at least kind of enjoyed it. I promise it gets better and I hope you read chapter 2, too!

~Sami Kincer
PS- The picture is of Aline! And sorry this chapter was so short!