The Day We Meet

I have had the tattoo for as long as I can remember. My earliest memory was asking my mother where it came from and what it meant, but she wouldn't tell me. Now that I am older I know what the words say "Can I sit here? Where is the ketchup?" An odd phrase to be tattooed, and even now, at twelve I'm still wondering what it means.I got many questions about the tattoo, my friends always give me weird looks and parents wondered why someone would tattoo a minor. However, then all became clear when I changed schools after fourth grade; the day I met my best friend.

On the first day of school, I was a fish out of water.

Then came lunchtime.

The cafeteria was overflowing with students. None of the faces familiar. No one was interested in a small girl with mousy brown hair who sat by herself at an empty table. I guessed that was going to be me until middle school, the lonely weird girl that no one wanted to talk to. Then I saw him.

He had short, blonde hair and glasses that seemed too big for his round face. He stepped out of the lunch line with his tray, looking around for several minutes before walking up to me.

"Can I sit here?" He asked, "… And, uh, where's the ketchup?"

Numbly, I pointed him in the direction of the condiments table at the far end cafeteria. Once his back was turned I found myself unconsciously rubbing my right arm where my tattoo was. I had the oddest sense of déjà vu…

The boy with blond hair and glasses returned to the table. Placing his tray next to mine he sat down.

"By the way," he said, "my name's Jay. What's yours?"