My Best Friend

My Best Friend

We met Aziza in first grade. Her last name was Nurmamatova, and mine was Sherboyeva, so she sat behind me. We were both shy and had nothing to say to each other until the day he asked my ruler to borrow.

We lived in a neighborhood. I lent it to Aziza - and she kept it for a very long time, or so it seemed to me. I turned back to get it back, but Aziza couldn’t get it. I caught, he held ... the ruler broke.

I cried. She cried. I blamed him, and he blamed me.

From that day on, like six-year-olds, we were inseparable, best friends. My friend and I have known each other for 13 years. We still see each other now.