YOU OWE ME?!

[This post was written by Lila. Her posts will be this lovely aubergine colour from now on - unless she hates it - so you can easily find them. Maybe I can even convince her to start her own blog - for which I could use your help so go on, give her a cheer.]

When I was 13 I mentioned to myself that if there's any boy worth being friends with it must be Uzi, the one who hides behind golden hair, laughs shyly and never humiliates other people (kibbutz’s national sport). But since it's a shy being we're talking about, and I'm busy thinking I'm so ugly and strange I'd better hide somewhere - no contact.

Our mothers are best friends. When I was born they decided since Uzi is 3 years older than me we were probably meant to be. But when I'm 14 and he's 17 it's no subject to discuss, too embarrassing. We don't even talk in family meetings. Hardly saying "hi", no eye contact.

Another boring Friday night in the kibbutz. Uzi's friend who's more communicative suggests I go with them to eat hummus somewhere. I go. On the way the radio plays "starry-starry night", or "Vincent", I think it's called. Uzi says, "50 shekels if anyone knows who sings". I say "Don Mclean". I win! I win to Genius Uzi… Everyone knows Uzi is the smartest boy in school. And I got to impress him, or them or myself. Just a small victory to make me feel a little better, or in short - HA!

School's over, thank god, we became neighbours. One day Uzi came in to my room, sat and refused to speak. That silence has become a beautiful friendship... I reminded him of that 50 shekel promise a few times, just to remember that stupid time when we were too embarrassed to recognize each other... He still owes me.

I forgive the 50 shekels bit. I can't accept never laughing about it again.