Try Again

There are times I've joked with people about how socially backward I can be. The people who know me usually laugh, and I'll say, "No, really. My best friend is only my best friend because she got amnesia." They laugh and think I'm joking and then I tell them the story of how we became friends.


When I walked into my new high school for the first time, I was completely overwhelmed. I had come from a school of 300 to a class of 300. My most vivid memories of the first day are walking to the gym where our day of registration was to begin and having to walk across the vast expanse of the gymnasium to the bleachers at the other end of the room while hundreds of eyes watched my progress, all the while realizing there wasn’t a single familiar face in that crowd. I vaguely remember being amazed at how much the school fees were as I was paying them out of my own money. And I got lost in the building and on the way home. In general, it was a day best forgotten.

Cheryl has a different memory of that day. She tells me she remembers noticing that I was new and attempted to talk with me at some point to introduce herself – realizing that I most likely didn’t have any friends and was alone. While I don’t remember this conversation, she tells me I came across with an attitude of "why-are-you-talking-to-me?" so decided she wouldn’t continue the conversation. This is one of the points of the day that I have blocked out of my memory.

Life continued on and Cheryl and I ended up having common friends, but didn't really get to know each other well. Remember, she thought I was a stuck-up snob who came across as though I was better than everyone else. Those outstanding social skills shining through.

We did take a class together. Chemistry. She had missed some classes, so one day I turned to talk with her. The conversation went something like this:

Me: I noticed you haven't been here lately.
Cheryl: I've been here all week.
Me: Oh. Well, (trying to recover, points to her hand) I noticed you have a bandage on your hand.
Cheryl: Uh, yeah. (that was kind of obvious)
Me: (brightens thinking this may go better) Good thing it's your left hand, eh?
Cheryl: I'm left handed.
Me: Oh. (turns to talk to the person on the other side)

Keep in mind, her opinion of me wasn't very high to start with. Now I'm not only a stuck up snob, I'm an unobservant idiot, too. It turns out she had been missing, but about a week earlier. In order to catch up on the work she missed, Cheryl took down my phone number and put it in her pencil case.

In the summer, Cheryl ended up in the hospital with amnesia. She had her pencil case with her which had my phone number. She thought I must be a good friend of hers because she was carrying my number around. So she called me up. I was so excited to hear from her, and she said she had no idea we weren't really good friends from the way I reacted. I visited her everyday, and by the time she got her memory back she already liked me.

Thank God for second chances.