Nomination

Best Friends


She looks like a cat, and I’ve always liked cats. I’m not sure I’m a fan of her, though. She’s in my space. I’m hiding now, my face pressed against cold, umber bricks, watching her. This makes me mad, because this is where I come when I’m sick of hiding. I do a lot of hiding, back around the corner, through the metal doorway, down the steel staircase with the little holes in it, and out a door marked “staff only” into the halls of Glenbrook South High School. Yeah, I hide a lot down here.
The roof, though, that’s where I go to think and to get away from everybody. It’s my space. And yet, today, I’m hiding up here. So, no, I can’t say I’m really a fan of her. I’ve seen her around school. Everyone knows who she is because she’s the new girl. She’s the let’s-pick-her-apart-because-no-one-will-stand-up-for-her girl, the other-girls-don’t-like-her-designer-purse-which-probably-made-her-friends-at-her-last-school-girl, the mom-died-so-she-had-to-track-down-dad-girl, the moved-around-a-lot-girl, the sitting-on-the-edge-of-the-roof-girl.
I feel pretty bad for her. See, Jake says his dad knows this guy from the gun club who used to work with her dad, says he was a piece a work, says he even drank on the job. They say a lot of things, Jake and the other guys. Sometimes I tell them to lay off, you know, when they get too nasty, but they usually don’t stop and I never tell them twice. Second period’s the worst because Mr. Greenberg turns off his hearing aid most of the class and the guys stand around and talk. I leave a lot, tell them I’m gonna go make out with Tracey in the boy’s bathroom, and they laugh and make lewd gestures and never catch on that the reason I’m leaving is because if I had to spend another minute with them, I’d beat each and every one of them to a bloody pulp.
But even though I feel bad for the girl, she’s in my space, and that’s not cool.
“Hey,” I say loudly, stepping out from behind the chimney. I watch her body tense and her chest suck in air. Oops. She turns around, un-tucking her legs and hanging them over the edge, and stares at me. “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you doing up here?” she demands. She twists a bit more, and I notice that the right side of her butt is nearing the edge. It worries me.
“What are you doing up here?” I call back.
“I asked you first.” She shifts again, and I swear I thought she was going to fall right off the ledge. My heart starts pounding and I’m wondering how she can be so chill about the whole thing, like she’s hanging out on her couch or something.
“Why don’t you come down from there?” I ask. “You’re really making—“
“No!” she shouts, cutting me off. “Do not take another step toward me or I’ll jump. I swear I will.”
I freeze, terrified. It’s then I notice that her hands are shaking, that her eyes are red. She’s been crying. “Sorry, you’re just…you’re just making me really nervous, that’s all. I’m just nervous you’re going to fall.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should have been nervous when your slimy friends made fun of me.”
I look at my right shoe. God, I hate them. “I’m sorry,” I say again. “Why don’t you just come down off that ledge and we can talk.” I take a step toward her.
“No!” she shouts again. “My God, don’t you listen? I said not to come closer.”
“Okay, Okay,” I say. “Can I sit, then?”
“Fine, do whatever you want, just don’t come any closer.”
I sit down on the gravelly rooftop and she turns her back to me. I can feel the tiny little stones digging into my thighs and I imagine the little dents, little imprints they will make in my skin. I think for a minute about Jake and Hunter and the other guys and what it would be like if every word they said made imprints in me, like the stones. I wonder how my skin would look. I wonder how her skin would look. I always thought she had tough skin. I guess everyone is susceptible to the gravel.
After a few minutes I say, “So I suppose I should tell you why I’m up here. You know, since I know why you’re up here.”
“So you can look down Tracey Martin’s shirt?” she asks.
“I’m gay,” I say.
“Are you serious?” she asks quietly, turning around on the ledge.
“Yeah. So now I know your secret and you know mine.”
We sit in silence for a minute before she says, “But aren’t you dating Tracey?”
“No,” I reply, taking out a cigarette. I offer one to her, but she shakes her head. “If you asked either of us, we wouldn’t say one way or the other. I guess she just likes the association.” I shrug.
“You know those things can kill you,” she says nodding toward my cigarette.
“Says the girl sitting on the ledge of a roof.”
“Good point,” she concedes. I finish my cigarette in silence and lay back and look at the sky. “What are you doing?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say back, “looking at the sky, I guess.”
“Hey, you never actually told my why you were up here.”
“So?”
“So why were you up here?”
“I’m on the local suicide task force,” I say. “It’s my job to patrol the rooftops.” I peek over my knees to watch her roll her eyes at me. “Do you really want to know?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I come up here pretty often, you know, when I want to get away from them all.”
“Who all?”
“My friends, my family.” I shrug, the gravel moving under my shoulder blades.
“Why are you friends with them if you don’t like them?” she asks.
“Hey, you know what it’s like not having friends. I’d rather have those assh***s than no one.”
“Yeah, I suppose. What about your family? I mean, I know why you hate your friends,” she chuckles at this, “but why your family?”
“I don’t hate my family,” I say, sitting up on my elbows. “They’re actually pretty cool, but my dad’s a good Catholic, so it always feels a little like hiding. Anyway, what about you? I’m sure you have some daddy-issues.”
She frowns and picks at a rebellious thread on the inner seam of her jeans. “I just have issues,” she says. We sit in silence again for a minute and I lay back down. The sky is smears of gray today. It’s not nothing, but it sure isn’t anything spectacular.
I hear the rustling of her coat on the ledge and my muscles tense. I sit up on my elbows again and watch her movement, terrified she’s going fall (or worse: jump). She’s trying to lie down on the ledge and when she notices me watching her she shoots me a violent glare and says, “I’m not trying to jump, Okay? You can relax.”
“Well, you may not be trying to jump, but you’re definitely not trying very hard to keep from falling.” She purses her lips at me, but then settles in on her brick bed. After a moment I try to get her to come down again. “You know, you could come down here and not risk death by sneezing. Just a suggestion.” She ignores my comment.
“Do you think the sky is beautiful?” she asks, out of the blue. I decide to follow her lead.
“Today, not so much. I mean, I don’t think it’s ugly, it’s just not very…grand.”
“Yeah,” she begins. “I think it’s ugly. My mom would have thought it was the most gorgeous thing in the world, though.”
“I’m sure you’re not that different from her.”
“I don’t know what I am any more.”
We stare at the sky.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about his drinking.”
“Yeah, people tend to talk in towns like these,” I say.
“I think it’s gotten worse since I moved in. I think he hates me. I think everyone hates me.” I’m on my elbows again. I watch two tears stream down her cheek. One sticks to her skin, but the other drops down and leaves a darker oval shape on the bricks.
“I don’t hate you,” I say. More tears.
“You will though, when we get back downstairs, we we’re standing in the hall and everyone starts whispering about me. You will.”
“No,” I say. “I couldn’t. We’re too similar. I mean, no one hates me, but no one really knows me, either.”
I see her move and watch her intently. She sits up, legs on the roof side (not the jump side) “You know what’s sad?” she asks.
“You?”
“That you’re my best friend. That’s sad.”
“It’s not that sad. You’re my best friend, too.” I chuckle once. Then she laughs a little. Then I laugh a little more until we’re both laughing and she’s crying and we forget that I’m hiding and she’s jumping and everyone else is living their lives like normal just below us. The bell rings for passing time and I hear everyone flooding into the halls. She stands up and walks over to me and lies down.
“Watch the sky with me during passing time?”
“Absolutely,” I say, “best friend.”

What I Needed to Say Poem V. 1

words and tears

tears.

big, round, alligator tears.

big, round knots in my throat.

big, silent tears.

words, molotov cocktail words

setting off fire alarms and sprinkler systems

in the form of tears.

tears,

dripping from leaky facet eyes.

big round tears that left big round circles

on dirty, too-tired-to-clean porcelain

I'm surprised they didn't form rivers,

didn't carve paths into the tiles,

didn't build you the Grand Canyon.

my tears.

tears.

and words. Lots of words.

cruel words, dagger words,

that pinned me against the wall while one word

stabbed me.

illness.

The i, the l, the l, so sharp as they dig into my chest

twist around my lungs

I can't breathe, only

tears.

tears

caused by words, could have been stopped by words:

Stop!

That's not true!

I'm not that!

You're not really mad at me!

Stop!

but those words, to save my mental health,

weren’t spoken because of your mental

i-l-l-n-e-s-s.

she doesn't mean what she's saying.

tears.

What can I do to make it better?

Is the ending as good as the beginning?

Does it make sense or is it too obscure?

Ps. My word varification is: luremat. How cool is that? That would make a nice poem.

...my shoes landed on your luremat...

A Time My World Changed Poem V. 2

We Come to Understand

We come to understand
slowly
The great coming-of-age epiphanies
never really there
But, nevertheless, we come to understand

Steam rising from the lake at dusk
swirling like the smoke from
her cigarette and wicker furniture
lines on the bottom of my thighs.
We came to understand,
understand that she loves a man
long dead so we may never meet

Understand that, though the alcohol
attached itself to blood cells,
sprinted through lungs,
and rode on carbon dioxide out his mouth,
so the whole family could smell his liquor,
he was loved.

He was loved by her,
sitting here, now, alone.
He was loved by her,
our lonely Woman
with a cigarette and a story.

We came to understand,
on those sticky summer evenings
those messy, melting periods
between tired days and lively nights.
Those evenings of conversation
when nothing was taboo
That's when we came to understand

We come to understand
slowly
on slow evenings
when the moon tastes sticky sweet
on wicker furniture and cigarette smoke
with our lonely Woman.

A Time My World Changed Poem V.1

We Come to Understand

We come to understand
slowly
The great coming-of-age epiphanies
never really there
But, nevertheless, we come to understand

Steam rising from the lake at dusk
swirling like the smoke from
her cigarette and wicker furniture
lines on the bottom of my thighs
We came to understand
understand that she loves a man
we can never meet

Understand that, though the alcohol
attached itself to blood cells,
sprinted through lungs,
and rode on carbon dioxide out his mouth,
so the whole family could smell his liquor,
he was loved

We came to understand,
on those sticky summer evenings
those messy, melting periods
between tired days and lively nights.
Those evenings of conversation
when nothing was taboo
That's when we came to understand

We come to understand
slowly
on slow evenings
when the moon tastes sticky sweet
on wicker furniture and cigarette smoke
with our lonely Woman
we come to understand.




Ok, so I know exactly what I'm talking about. Do you?


Should I use more poetic devices or is it OK?

10-Minute Play V. 2

[DARLA walks into a coffee shop and scowls. Thomas is behind the counter.]

THOMAS

Well, you look like a bowl of sunshine this morning.

DARLA

You are wearing green.

THOMAS

I am.

DARLA

And it’s Friday.

THOMAS

It is.

DARLA

I get 20 bucks!!

[DARLA sits down on the counter and begins to dig through the tip jar on the counter, taking bills out.]

THOMAS

Ah, c’mon, Darla. The pink shirt was dirty. I’ll wear it tomorrow.

DARLA

No! I chose today because I knew you were hanging with your manly-man, homophobic guy friends. Besides, I need new charcoal pencils. So deal.

[THOMAS sighs and begins to make DARLA a latte.]

THOMAS

You know, maybe I should avoid pink for a while. I just came out to them, like, two weeks ago. I wouldn’t want to scare them.

DARLA

Ha! Scare them! They like playing football and shooting wild bears, but one gay kid comes along and they duck for cover.

THOMAS

D*** straight. Us gay kids are scary. [looking out the window.] Did you get a new car?!

DARLA

Sure did! Saved up for the beast and everything.

THOMAS

[Staring off into space, day dreaming]

I need a car…

DARLA

I’d say. I’m really getting sick of driving you around. If I didn’t need the rent money, I don’t think I’d bother.

THOMAS

Thanks.

DARLA

Oh, come on now, you know I love you, dude. Man up.

[THOMAS shakes his head and starts cleaning things behind the counter, wiping down things, ect.]

THOMAS

So what are you planning for tonight?

DARLA

You know, I don’t have plans. Crazy, right? Darla Jones: friend to all, planless on a Friday night. [Pauses to think.] Ooh, I know, we should throw a party!

THOMAS

I can’t. I’m hanging out with the Scouts guys tonight. You know that.

DARLA

You can invite them.

THOMAS

A party? With my friends and your friends?

DARLA

Sure! It’ll be fun!

THOMAS

Fun isn’t quite the word I’d use.

DARLA

And what word would you use, Mr. Thesaurus?

THOMAS

Oh, something along the lines of disastrous.

DARLA

You, Tommy, are a pessimist. It would be extraordinary fun! Like one big social experiment!

THOMAS

You want to experiment on our friends?

DARLA

Why not? Life is a stage!

THOMAS

Wrong metaphor.

DARLA

Life is a…laboratory!

THOMAS

Bad metaphor. You, my dear, are a sick, twisted woman.

DARLA

You just want your stupid Scouts friends to like and accept you.

THOMAS

Is that so wrong?

DARLA

Your friends should accept you for who you are, Thomas. If those guys can’t, then that’s their problem.

THOMAS

Easier said than done. Besides, I don’t think you of all people should be talking.

DARLA

Whatever do you mean?

THOMAS

Must I remind you of a certain Robert...and, um, blue hair dye?

DARLA

OK, 1. How dare you bring that up! And 2. There is a distinct difference between doing stupid stuff for a lover and doing stupid stuff for friends.

THOMAS

If you say so.

DARLA

Unless…Oh my God, you’re in love with one of the Scouts!

THOMAS

I am not!

DARLA

You are! You totally are! Which one? The one with the good hair? Because there’s only one with good hair. It better be the one with good hair.

[THOMAS sighs]

THOMAS

I’m not in love with one of the Scouts guys and even if I was, that wouldn’t change the fact that I care what they think about me.

DARLA

[Sarcastically]

Riiight.

[The door opens and CARIE walks in]

CARIE

What’s up, kidlets?

DARLA

Thomas is in love with one of the Scouts guys.

CARIE

[To THOMAS]

Really? The one with good hair?

THOMAS

I am not in love with one of the Scouts guys.

DARLA

He so is.

[THOMAS throws his arms into the air and flings his head back in frustration. CARIE laughs.]

CARIE

Hey, drama queen, make me a latte, would ya?

THOMAS

Yeah, yeah. Quit complaining. It’s free. You can’t complain about free stuff.

CARIE

I can complain about whatever I’d like, thank you very much.

DARLA

I have a complaint to offer.

THOMAS

Why am I not at all surprised by that?

DARLA

When can we leave? I mean, didn’t your shift end 5 minutes ago?

THOMAS

We can leave as soon as Mark gets here. He’s late, as usual.

[CARIE looks down, suddenly sad]

DARLA

Hey! You do not get to be sad about that d-bag. He’s d-bag. You’re much better off without him.

CARIE

Yeah, I guess.

DARLA

Well, I know. So there. You know what would get your mind off Mark?

CARRIE

What?

DARLA

A party. At my place. With Tommy’s Scouts friends.

CARIE

[laughing]

That would be quite the little event.

DARLA

I know, right? Free entertainment: what could be better?

THOMAS

OK, just so we’re clear: I’m opposed to you using our friends as a social experiment and as entertainment.

DARLA

[To CARIE] He can be so boring sometimes.

THOMAS

Darla, remember when you said if you didn’t need the rent money you would bother with me?

DARLA

Yeah?

THOMAS

Well, if I didn’t need a place to stay, I’d kill you.

[CARIE laughs and THOMAS grins]

DARLA

Oh, thanks, Thomas, I love you too!

THOMAS

Just spreading the love. Reciprocating, you know.

[MARK walks through the door]

MARK

Sorry I’m late, Tom.

THOMAS

[Taking an ugly, brown apron off]

I feel like I’ve heard that before.

DARLA

Oh, Thomas, leave the smock on! It’s so hip this season!

THOMAS

Oh, shut up Darla!

MARK

[To CARIE]

Hi, Carie.

CARIE

[Timidly, tugging on her shirt sleeve]

Hi.

DARLA

[Leading CARIE toward the door]

Well, this has been so much fun, but we really need to go. Bye, Mark!

THOMAS

[Tossing the smock to MARK]

Bye

MARK

[Quietly]

Bye, queer.

CARIE

[Turning around]

What did you just say?

DARLA

Whoa, Carie, personality shift much?

CARIE

What did you just call my friend?

MARK

You heard me.

CARIE

Oh no, you do not get to say things like that to my friends!

THOMAS

Carie, it’s OK, really.

CARIE

No, it’s not OK. No one can talk to you like that. It’s not acceptable.

MARK

Oh, come on, Carie. You know you’re just mad because I broke up with you.

DARLA

[Sitting on the counter once again on the outside of the three arguing]

Oh, damn. This is going to take a while.

CARIE

I’m mad because you’re a jerk.

DARLA

That’s putting it nicely.

MARK

Oh, get off your high horse, Carie. You walk around with your nose up in the air all day.

THOMAS

That is not true. Carie is one the most humble people I know.

DARLA

She’s practically dripping in humility.

MARK

Please, she’s full of herself! So are you, you stupid fag. You’re ego is huge!

DARLA

Well, someone’s ego is making it hard to breathe in here, but I doubt it’s Thomas’s.

CARIE

You ignorant ass****! I don’t even know why I’m fighting with you. You’re never going to do anything with your life anyway! You’ll forever live in your parent’s basement and work dead end jobs. You’re a los-

[CARIE is cut of mid-sentence by MARK slapping her across the face. She falls to the floor in surprise. DARLA rushes over to her and kneels beside her. The two slowly stand up and walk out, dazed with shock. THOMAS follows them out.]

MARK

[Yelling to THOMAS as he walks out the door]

Rot in hell, you faggot!

[Outside, CARIE and DARLA sit on a city bus stop bench and THOMAS paces in front of them, livid]

THOMAS

I could kill him. I could kill him. I would kill him, you know, if I wouldn’t get fired and jail and all that. I can’t believe him. I could just smash his face into the ground and—

DARLA

Hey, Mr. Testosterone! Cool it!

CARIE

I’m so sorry, you guys. That was all my fault.

THOMAS

No, it wasn’t. It was that stupid Mark’s fault. I’m gonna get him fired for that, you know. He will pay somehow.

CARIE

No, I shouldn’t have kept fighting. I should have just let it go, like Thomas said.

DARLA

It’s OK, Car-Bear. It’s the scary, crazy, bipolar momma bear thing about you we love. You were just defending your baby.

CARIE

[Starting to cry]

I love you guys so much!

THOMAS

[Sitting on the other side of CARIE on the bench]

We love you too, honey. Don’t cry. You know, if the Scouts guys don’t like me for who I am, I don’t even care. All I need is you and that thing [gestures at DARLA].

DARLA

Oh, I’m the “thing,” am I?

THOMAS

Shut up and give us a hug!

[The three hug. The end!]

The formatting is fail. Sorry about that. I tried. It's formatted correctly on my word doc.

10-Minute Play V. 1

[DARLA walks into a coffee shop and scowls. Thomas is behind the counter.]

THOMAS
Well, you look like a bowl of sunshine this morning.

DARLA
You are wearing green.

THOMAS
I am.

DARLA
And it’s Friday.

THOMAS
It is.

DARLA
I get 20 bucks!!

[DARLA sits down on the counter and begins to dig through the tip jar on the counter, taking bills out.]

THOMAS
Ah, c’mon, Darla. The pink shirt was dirty. I’ll wear it tomorrow.

DARLA
No! I chose today because I knew you were hanging with your manly-man, homophobic guy friends. Besides, I need new charcoal pencils. So deal.

[THOMAS sighs and begins to make DARLA a latte.]

THOMAS
You know, maybe I should avoid pink for a while. I just came out to them, like, two weeks ago. I wouldn’t want to scare them.

DARLA
Ha! Scare them! They like playing football and shooting wild bears, but one gay kid comes along and they duck for cover.

THOMAS
D*** straight. Us gay kids are scary. [looking out the window.] Did you get a new car?!

DARLA
Sure did! Saved up for the beast and everything.

THOMAS
[Staring off into space, day dreaming]
I need a car…

DARLA
I’d say. I’m really getting sick of driving you around. If I didn’t need the rent money, I don’t think I’d bother.

THOMAS
Thanks.

DARLA
Oh, come on now, you know I love you, dude. Man up.

[THOMAS shakes his head and starts cleaning things behind the counter, wiping down things, ect.]

THOMAS
So what are you planning for tonight?

DARLA
I don’t know yet. Haven’t really thought about it. [Pauses to think.] Ooh, I know, we should throw a party!

THOMAS
I can’t. I’m hanging out with the Scouts guys tonight. You know that.

DARLA
You can invite them.

THOMAS
A party? With my friends and your friends?

DARLA
Sure! It’ll be fun!

THOMAS
Fun isn’t quite the word I’d use.

DARLA
And what word would you use?

THOMAS
Oh, something along the lines of disastrous.

DARLA
You, Tommy, are a pessimist. It would be extraordinary fun! Like one big social experiment!

THOMAS
You want to experiment on our friends?

DARLA
Why not? Life is a stage!

THOMAS
Wrong metaphor.

DARLA
Life is a…laboratory!

THOMAS
Bad metaphor. You, my dear, are a sick, twisted woman.

DARLA
You just want your stupid Scouts friends to like and accept you.

THOMAS
Is that so wrong?

DARLA
Your friends should accept you for who you are, Thomas. If those guys can’t, then

that’s their problem.

THOMAS
Easier said than done. Besides, I don’t think you of all people should be talking.

DARLA
What do you mean?

THOMAS
Must I remind you of a certain Robert...and, um, blue hair dye?

DARLA
OK, 1. How dare you bring that up! And 2. There is a distinct difference between

doing stupid stuff for a lover and doing stupid stuff for friends.

THOMAS
If you say so.
DARLA
Unless…Oh my God, you’re in love with one of the Scouts!
THOMAS
I am not!

DARLA
You are! You totally are! Which one? The one with the good hair? Because there’s

only one with good hair. It better be the one with good hair.

[THOMAS sighs]

THOMAS
I’m not in love with one of the Scouts guys and even if I was, that wouldn’t change

the fact that I care what they think about me.

DARLA
Uh-huh. Whatever you say.

[The door opens and CARIE walks in]

CARIE
What’s up, kidlets?

DARLA
Thomas is in love with one of the Scouts guys.

CARIE
[To THOMAS]
Really? The one with good hair?

THOMAS
I am not in love with one of the Scouts guys.

DARLA
He so is.

[THOMAS throws his arms into the air and flings his head back in frustration. CARIE laughs.]

CARIE
Hey, drama queen, make me a latte, would ya?

THOMAS
Yeah, yeah. Quit complaining. It’s free. You can’t complain about free stuff.

CARIE
I can complain about whatever I’d like, thank you very much.

DARLA
I have a complaint to offer.

THOMAS
Why am I not at all surprised by that?

DARLA
When can we leave? I mean, didn’t your shift end 5 minutes ago?

THOMAS
We can leave as soon as Mark gets here. He’s late, as usual.

[CARIE looks down, suddenly sad]

DARLA
Hey! You do not get to be sad about that d-bag. He’s d-bag. You’re much better off without him.

CARIE
Yeah, I guess.

DARLA
Well, I know. So there. You know what would get your mind off Mark?

CARRIE
What?

DARLA
A party. At my place. With Tommy’s Scouts friends.

CARIE
[laughing]
That would be quite the little event.

DARLA
I know, right? Free entertainment: what could be better?

THOMAS
OK, just so we’re clear: I’m opposed to you using our friends as a social experiment and as

entertainment.

DARLA
[To CARIE] He can be so boring sometimes.



THOMAS
Darla, remember when you said if you didn’t need the rent money you would bother with

me?

DARLA
Yeah?

THOMAS
Well, if I didn’t need a place to stay, I’d kill you.

[CARIE laughs and THOMAS smiles]

DARLA
Oh, thanks, Thomas, I love you too!

THOMAS
Just spreading the love. Reciprocating, you know.

CARIE
And I love both you dorks!

[MARK walks through the door]

MARK
Sorry I’m late, Tom.

THOMAS
[Taking an ugly, brown apron off]
I feel like I’ve heard that before.

DARLA
Oh, Thomas, leave the smock on! It’s so hip this season!

THOMAS
Oh, shut up Darla!

MARK
[Noticing CARIE he speaks more quietly.]
Hi, Carie.

CARIE
[Timidly, tugging on her shirt sleeve]
Hi.

DARLA
Hi, Mark! Bye, Mark! Let’s go, kids!

[DARLA takes CARIE by the hand and leads her out of the shop. THOMAS follows, tossing the smock at MARK. The end!]

Questions!

1. Was this funny? If yes, which parts? If not, what parts did you think should have been funny?

2. Did the characters seem real? If not, what lines didn't seem real and how should I cange it to make it more real? Were they too mean to each other?

3. Did you understand the connection between them (that they were all friends...except Mark)?

Note: Yes, I realize that they formatting is wrong. I hate blogspot. Ok, I don't hate blogspot. I'm just in a bad mood and too impatient to try to figure out how to center certain lines. Forgive me.