By Kassie Lamro
Natalie and I had the same birthday month, which, in fifth grade, meant we were best friends. The cornfield stood between my street and hers, an armrest at a movie theater, dividing and connecting. We lay on our stomachs in my backyard, grass tickling our bare legs as corn stalks rustled in the wind. Come on, Natalie said, and when no one was looking, we climbed the chain-linked fence. For the next two years, we collected rocks, screws, blue glass from the abandoned barn. We labeled our treasures with the date and our names and locked everything in a metal box. Natalie and I didn’t have the same lunch period, which, in seventh grade, might have meant we weren’t best friends. Didn’t bother me that she sat with Amanda at lunch because Natalie and I had the cornfield. One day on the school bus, we pressed our fingers to the dust-smeared window and gasped at the “Coming soon, Walmart!” sign standing in the field like a scarecrow. Natalie got off at my stop, ran across the backyard and when no one was looking, jumped the chain-linked fence. She stomped to the middle of the cornfield to a humming powerline, wrote our names on gum wrappers, and stuck them to the base of the powerline with chewing gum as if labeling the field would stop bulldozers from tearing our friendship apart.
When she isn’t teaching or tutoring English as a Second Language, Kassie can be found behind her drum set, behind a good book, or behind her laptop writing more poetry or Middle Grade novels.
Kassie Lamro has a Bachelor’s in English teaching, a Master’s in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (MTESOL), and a creative writing certificate. She blogs at https://kassielamro.weebly.com and can be found on Twitter (@kassielamro) and Instagram (@kassielamroreads).