Yesterday when I came home

Yesterday when I came home from work Danielle drove by me and stopped to talk. Danielle and I were friends from 7th grade through about two years ago. Then we sort of lost touch and only talked occasionally when we both moved in with our boyfriends, even though our parents live right down the street from each other. But both of us are back at home now.
This would be wonderful except for one little fact: Danielle is an even worse friend than me. My only real friendship fault is sometimes going into my own little world and neglecting my friends for a little while. While not good, it’s not as hurtfull as her faults. She lies, exhaggerates things to make herself seem better than me because she’s jealous of me (which I know because she always used to tell me she was jealous of me), she makes plans with me and then breaks them to go out with other people, she would talk about me behind my back and start rumors about me. And yet she still used to say I was her best friend. How can you not care about someone when they say you’re they’re best friend?
While I hardly saw her while living with Brad, I still thought of us as friends. And I know I’ve talked about this part before, but I’ll restate it anyway because it really was the end. The day Brad found out about Cliff I stopped by my parents house and Danielle was outside her house. We talked for a little while. The next day, I called her. She told me to hold on and I heard her talking to someone on another phone. After a minute or two, she just hung up the phone on me. I called her the next day, even though she did that. I really needed someone to talk to. We made plans for me to come over to her parents house at 4. I did, but she didn’t answer her door even though her car was there. Maybe she was out, maybe she just didn’t answer. Either way, that was a rather rude thing to do to someone who was in the middle of a crisis. That showed me that she really didn’t care about me at all.
But I wish things had turned out differently. On January 6, she had a baby boy and named him Dakota. She had said she was pregnant, but she’s claimed that several times in the past and no baby appeared. But this time she really was. She’s about 12 days older than me, which makes her also 22. It’s not young to have a kid really, but sometimes it seems like it was just yesterday we were 15 and going roller skating every weekend (trying to pick up guys…). I feel too young to have a kid. She’s always wanted one though. But what if she had been a good friend? I would have thrown her a baby shower. We’d have gone shopping for baby clothes together. I would probably have been at the hospital when she had the baby. I’d have watched the baby grow up and been called “Aunt Cindy”. If only our friendship could have stayed the way it was when we were 15, minus all the bad parts. We hung out every day after school. Talked on the phone for hours anyway even though we just saw each other. Took walks to 7-11 to get Coke Slurpees and sat on the swings at the park and drank them. We went to Virginia Beach three summers with my parents. We were going to go to the University of South Carolina together and live in an apartment. We were going to have a double wedding when we got married. We were inseperable. But even then it wasn’t a “good” friendship. Not a healthy one, as I was the one getting screwed over in it.
And yesterday she stopped and we talked for a few minutes, until another car came down the street. I told her to give me a call sometime so I could see her baby. And I do want to see her baby. But I don’t see us really becoming friends again. I need friends, but I don’t need friends like her.