“You memorized the book?” My sisters tone was incredulous with a faint hint of awed disgust and bewilderment. Her face matched with her words and the general mood of the room.

In return I was sheepish and shifty. “Nooo, I just know the first few paragraphs.” My eyes were traveling the room, but always coming back to my favorite book, held in my sisters hands and opened to the first few pages.

The book was clean and new then; the colors vibrant and the spine straight, without tears or tape. Now though; the book had a cracked spine and tape on the cover to keep it together.

It sat on my bookshelf, all day long, right at the end with the other ones in the series. I have to say it gathered dust well, along with the other books I haven’t bothered to read again. Yet this book was loved. Despite not being all that special of a book; just a nice read like thousands of other nice reads, but when this book was sent into new hands a special memory- a special moment- was made.

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I remember hugging her. I remember looking at the book and realizing despite me being a reader no one had ever gifted me with a book. No one had ever taken a look at my scholastic magazine and ordered something for me. Even though I showed my mom the books I wanted all the time, she never bought any on the excuse of money. I believe she just thought my reading addiction was a waste of time.

The books cover had the two main characters on the front and a see-through snake twining around a see-through warehouse with a pyramid in the back. The large red coloring spelling out The Red Pyramid and the name Rick Riordan on the bottom of the page. The book was thick enough to fit easily in my hands, and having it there in my lap, the first thing I could feel was astonishment.

My best friend knew me very well, she had wrapped it up and everything, without its wrapping, I stared at it, astonished. I’ve been to the library before but no one has ever actually bought me a book, a book I don’t have to give back. How did she know I wanted this exact gift? This wasn’t the only book I wanted, not by far, but this was one of the books that I wanted. One of the only books I could have.

I, suddenly, like the child I was, felt like I loved her more in that moment than I had ever loved her. She was attentive, she cared, I thought. This mattered so much to me that my one friend in the world had gotten me a gift, a book, on my birthday no less.

Gosh, at that moment I wasn’t thinking of my sister with her thousand gifts on her birthday or even the fact that this wasn’t the exact book that I wanted, (just one book of many) no, though I am thinking of it now. All I could think of was the book in my lap and my friend beside me. The gift she gave me meant so much to me in that moment I knew I would treasure it forever.

“Oh my god Lynn thank you so much.” I said it in a rush and I think I surprised her when I hugged her, as hard as I could. I know I surprised myself when I hugged her, I didn’t hug many people then; especially just like that.

“Do you like the book, I told my mom it would be a good idea to buy it.” She sounded a bit worried and I rushed to assure her that this was an amazing present and no one had ever gotten me anything like this before. That put a proud smile on her face and I remember later in the day her bragging to others about the book she had gotten me.

I had a smile on my face the whole bus ride to school