I never was very popular. Not many people knew me, and I had very little friends. I was tall for my age, standing at about 5'9". I had thick brown hair and hazel eyes. I was very lean, but had just enough muscle to make it onto my High School's wrestling team. Every now and then, when the team won a competition, I would get a pat on the back and a 'Congrats' yelled down the hall...but other then that no one really paid attention to me.

Not like I cared. I had enough friends to keep me amused. I liked the fact teachers ignored me. I just sat around, slacking off, in the back of the room. High School was easy. I passed with decent grades. No problem. I even had the honor of having one girlfriend in my pitiful excuse for a life.

Well, that was me. A slacker, not noticed by any.

Then there was him.

He was the one everyone loved. Beautiful strands of golden hair, blue eyes. He had the perfect face and the brains to match. The guys envied him, the girls adored him, and no one could dislike him. He was just a huggable kind of person. He was there for his friends. His many, many friends. He gave great advice, he aced all his classes. Oh, get this.

He knew how to cook as well.

Overall, he was perfect. Perfect in society's standards, at least.

Well, I should get on with the point. Remember that girlfriend I told you about? I guess I really shouldn't call...him...my girlfriend.

No one knew. And that was ok. It just...fit. We were happy. I don't think either one of us could explain how it happened, but I don't think we cared.

Unfortunatly Grad night came. We saw each other very little that summer. We just...drifted apart. It hurt us both, but there was no stopping it.

Years later I found myself face to face with him again. As far as I could remember, he hadn't changed a bit. I found my heart aching and my voice caught in my throat. I could feel the memories flood back to me and it almost made me cry. It's hard to admit...but it almost made me cry.

"Frank...lin?" I heard my own voice mumble. Although Simmons kept on his ramblings, I knew he heard me. Luckily Simmons didn't.

And even though I couldn't see anything through his helmet, I could feel him. And he remembered...