The Day I Didn’t Say Sorry

💔 The Day I Didn’t Say Sorry — by Amy Clarke

Zoe and I had been best friends since our first day at primary school, when she lent me a pink pencil and never asked for it back. For seven years, we did everything together. So I still don’t really understand how I let one stupid afternoon nearly end it all.
It happened in Year 8, during a drama lesson. Zoe had to perform a poem she had written about her grandad’s farm in Scotland. She was nervous, and halfway through, she forgot a line. There was a long, awkward silence. Then a girl called Megan, who sat next to me, whispered something funny, and I giggled. Just once. But Zoe heard it. I saw her face go red, and she ran out of the room.
I should have followed her. I could have told her that I wasn’t laughing at her poem. Instead, I stayed in my seat, because I was embarrassed and I didn’t want Megan to think I was soft. When Zoe sent me a message that evening — just one word, “Why?” — I didn’t answer. I told myself I would explain the next day.
But the next day, Zoe sat with someone else at lunch, and my pride stopped me from walking over. One day became a week, and a week became a month. We walked past each other in the corridors as if we were strangers. Every night I wrote a message to her, and every night I deleted it.
In the end, it was Zoe’s grandad who fixed things, although he never knew it. In the spring, Zoe’s mum told my mum that he was in hospital. I remembered Zoe’s poem — the cows, the tractor, the sound of the wind — and I finally did what I should have done months before. I went to her house, and when she opened the door, I said, “I’m sorry. I was wrong, and I’ve missed you every day.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she said, “You took your time,” and hugged me. Her grandad got better, and we are still best friends. But I have never forgotten those months. I didn’t lose Zoe because I laughed. I nearly lost her because I was too proud to apologise.