In Which I Cause Violence at the MTC

Best Friend Boy was at the Missionary Training Center for a short time when a most unfortunate incident happened. And as is the case with far too many unfortunate incidents, the whole thing was entirely my fault.

It all started when we were seniors in high school. One day Etch-a-Sketch accidentally nudged Best Friend Boy in the face with her elbow. She apologized and joked, "It was a sign of affection."

This exchange pleased me. I turned to Best Friend Boy and announced, "From now on, when I'm being affectionate, I'm going to elbow you in the face."

And I did. Frequently. I would yell, "AFFECTION" and stick my elbow in his face. Gently, of course. I wouldn't have wanted to injure him. His severe discomfort was enough. Though he quickly grew used to it. People who are friends with me have to grow used to any number of things.

Time flew by, and before we knew it, Best Friend Boy left on a mission. Our goodbyes went something like this: Temple trip. Smoothies. Hugs. Finally, "AFFECTION! See you in two years."

For the next few months, it seemed like all I did was say goodbye to missionaries. Friends, guys who'd taken me on dates or who I'd taken on dates, kids I barely knew--all of them chose to serve full-time missions. Including Math Dude. Etch-a-Sketch and I went to hear Math Dude speak in church a few days before he headed to the MTC.

"If you see Best Friend Boy at the MTC," Etch-a-Sketch said to Math Dude after, "give him this from me." She hugged Math Dude.

"If you see Best Friend Boy at the MTC," I said, "give him this elbow in the face from me."

"Noooo," Math Dude said, backing away from my elbow. "That looks like it would hurt."

"It doesn't hurt," I said, and I tried to explain. However, Math Dude stood firm, so finally I just said, "Fine. Then give Best Friend Boy this hug."

We bid Math Dude a fond farewell and left his home for parts unknown aka our places of residence. Life went on, and the whole scene was promptly forgotten.

Forgotten, that is, by everyone but Math Dude.

A few weeks later, I was driving Etch-a-Sketch and myself to the temple when she feebly said, "Um, Best Friend Boy wrote me a letter."

"Oh?" I said, intrigued, because while having Etch-a-Sketch get a letter from Best Friend Boy was not as good as getting one myself, it at least was a means to hear his latest news.

"Yes. And... he wants me to tell you something."

"Okay," I said, trying to sound appropriately serious in order to match the tone of her voice, a someone-may-have-died-or-at-least-is-going-bald voice. It was a tone grave yet timid at the same time.

So gravely yet timidly, Etch-a-Sketch began to recount Best Friend Boy's words.

One day at the MTC, Math Dude had come across Best Friend Boy. Math Dude told Best Friend Boy he had some messages to pass on.

"This is from Etch-a-Sketch." Math Dude hugged Best Friend Boy.

"And this," Math Dude said, "is from Awkward Mormon Girl" and he slapped Best Friend Boy in the face.

"So," Etch-a-Sketch finished, quaveringly, "Best Friend Boy said for you to be more careful about the messages you pass along-"

I couldn't help myself. I started laughing so hard, I almost drove us off the road.