Faux: A Short Story

Faux Exactly two weeks before school began, I sat in my bed watching season 4 of “The Fosters,” when my mother walked in handing me my folded laundry. “I haven’t seen X&Y around here, are you still speaking to them?” She asked. “Yea we’re still speaking, I just didn’t have time to see them this summer,” was the response I gave.
That was a straight up lie. I did have time to see them, I could of made time to see them, but I chose not too. Too much drama to explain within 30 seconds to my mother so I left it at that. X&Y had been my best friends since the first grade; I’m a senior now. After 11 years of friendship, we now walk the halls pretending not to know each other when one sees the other. 11 years wasted on people who covered up or faked who they were all along. New to the district and to my elementary school, I shuffled my way to class with my eyes fixated on the floor below me. My father held my hand and as we reached my first grade classroom, he gave it a little squeeze. I had told my dad
Each year our little clique would grow, welcoming new people, or shrink, having people switch schools or find new groups, but the original three always stuck together. As sixth grade came to an end and seventh grade began, X&Y started becoming really distant. One of our members had became friends with a group we all originally thought were a little conceited and impolite. All three of us had always agreed that we would never treat people they way they did. We would always include people in on what we were talking about, we would welcome them to come sit with us, we would try to start a conversation with them if they were too shy to. After weeks of silence X came back telling us that the others were so crude and would always keep secrets, yet would want to know everything about her. X realized that they were just using her and never intended to be her