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All girls are like apples. The good ones sit at the top of the tree, and boys feel too lazy to climb up there and grab one. So they take the rotten ones that have fallen to the ground. How do you categorize the rotten apples though? What if one of the apples was good once, but got tired of waiting for a brave boy to come and pick her? So she instead flings herself to the ground for a lazy boy to pick. Can she be categorized as a bad apple? Or someone who needed love and felt as though she had to do so by becoming something else...

Submitted:Dec 18, 2009    Reads: 263    Comments: 3    Likes: 1   

Someone once said that girls were like apples. That boys were too lazy to climb all the way to the top and pick the good ones, so they took the rotten ones that fell to the ground. So the good apples thought something was wrong with them. But what the good apples didn't know, was that it would take a little time for a boy brave enough to climb the tree.
Well what about those apples that didn't believe in that? What about the apples who decided to hurl themselves to the ground, just so a boy would pick them up? Or an apple that has been bitten? Once, twice, perhaps three times? When is it, that a good apple becomes bad?
I would never categorize my best friend as a bad apple. Because even though she has been bitten, she still has the ripest taste. She might've been a little green when she was bitten, but she's got the sweetest juice out of all of them.
Kiaya and I, basically came from the same branch you could say. A branch that I have been hanging onto for most of my life, and a branch that she fell off not so long ago. I don't blame her for falling, what could sound better than love? But it wasn't the right love that she hurled herself into.
Kiaya has been my best friend since I can remember. She's always been there, and I for her. It's just now that I have felt her slipping. I guess it could've started with the fact that she wanted to introduce me to her second boyfriend, the boyfriend that would weave his way in and out of my life and Kiaya's. This was in the seventh grade for me, eighth for her, and I decided it wouldn't hurt.
His name is Wryly, Wry for short I guess. It's funny that his name fits him perfectly. I had seen his face only once, and I had no idea what Kiaya was thinking. When I seen the body attached to it, I could have cried. Kiaya was a pretty apple, she might not have been a brilliant red, but she was a nice rosy color. She might've been slightly bruised, but not enough to make you turn away from her succulent taste. Wryly enjoyed her taste more than I would've guessed. He was about six feet tall, in both length and width. Kiaya was about 5"3' and was a pretty petite apple.
I hated him from the start. From the way he pulled her away from me, the way he talked the way he walked. Kiaya and me started out as seeds before he came into the picture, and he wouldn't last long. The best thing about Kiaya is that back then, she took my word as the gospel truth. She listened to most of what I said, we never fought. That was until another person emerged in the photo of our lives.
Monica Gambino. The one who started Kiaya's rotting. Nothing personal, but I never liked her from the start either. She introduced Kiaya to her first make out, with both sexes, brought her into the world of boys and sex, a world that I was struggling to keep her out of. But holding Kiaya's hand throughout life wasn't going to help. I had to let her branch out, and the first place she went was into Monica's deceitful arms.
The more she was with Monica, the more we disagreed. The more she dated, the more I hated the guys she was with. The more Monica strung her fraudulent web, the more I was knocked out of the way. But Kiaya's life has never been to stay in one place, and as soon as her mom snags a man with a house, she transfers schools. This is good, and bad. Now I don't have to worry too much about Kiaya, and I can still see her every now and then.
But when Kiaya isn't able to take things at Foothill Middle School, she is sent back to the very birthplace of our friendship. Not that anything is wrong with that, but the people have changed drastically. And to an edible little apple like Kiaya, it means devastation for me.
Months pass, nothing is heard from my best friend. I write her on MySpace every once in a while. I look on her profile to see something new.
A girlfriend this time. Not a boyfriend. It's not that I have a problem with that, I could care less, but it's foreign. Her hair is as long as her chin, and it's been dyed black. Kiaya now listens to maggot rock, and screamo metal, after once loving The Black Eyed Peas. Kiaya lied to me for the first time, afraid I might resent her for being bisexual. I can see why she thought this, because when she told me she made out with Monica, I flipped out on her. That was only because it was Monica though, had it been another girl, I probably wouldn't care.
My best friend now has doubts about God, her sexual preference, her home life, and whether or not she should have sex. I beg her to stray away from things like that, and for the moment, she respects my wishes. Another year passes, I visit her for a couple weeks over the summer, she tells me they might move to Oregon, and I feel sad. It takes about another six months for me to find out they aren't moving to Oregon, and Kiaya is attending Las Plumas high school. She comes to see me, we talk about things, and she says she is loving it.
I am happy for my best friend, now that she has spread her wings, it seems as though she is an entirely new apple, that her taste has grown even richer, but it hasn't. I find that out far too late to help anything. Summer passes, and she begins to stay with me, her mother is unable to keep care of all of her children. She reveals who took her virginity, who it was that took the first bite, and I am not surprised to hear it's Wryly.
My hatred for him had not yet subsided and this only ignites the powerful embers that have been keeping quite for so long. And then I learn of the second bite, a cute boy named Zach, one she left for Wryly. The third was a spur of the moment, someone she had only just met, and he had the pleasure of taking a bite.
A month or two later, another boy takes a bite. Seth, a boy she has been pursuing has also taken a bite. Seth, a boy who has screwed around with her, and told her differently for the past ten months. She gave him the opportunity, and he took it.
Kiaya has broken up with Wryly after dating him off and on for the past two and a half years. Kiaya's has been evicted from her home. Kiaya's mom, has also passed away.
Sometimes I feel angry with Kiaya for hurling herself to the ground, as I dangle above her still holding on for dear life to the branch. I feel angry with her for becoming an adult so quickly, as I am still on the brink of childhood and womanhood. But I can never stay angry for long.
Kiaya has been a grown up her entire life. She never really had a childhood in the first place. I had just been trying to catch up to her, I was trying to stay as close to her as I could and I had thought about throwing myself to the ground as well. But Kiaya being the apple that she was, would never want to push me into doing something like that. Kiaya might've been bitten a lot, but she could never be a rotten apple. She might've been easier to get to, but the taste is just as sweet, if not sweeter than those of us at the top of the tree. I think the person who wrote that was very smart. I just think they had holes in their theory.
My apple still has not been bitten, and I think it will take time for me to trust a boy, who is brave enough to climb the tree. If there is one. But who knows? Maybe one day might come where I do have to heave myself to the ground just to find someone to love. But I would rather take my chances with the branch.


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