What's an enemy, with friends like these?

NOTE: This is a work of fiction designed to help illustrate the story of the Good Samaritan. This short story involves a narrator recounting the tale of a high school friend who goes through awful things, learning who will help her and who won’t. This is not about my life, and is a fictional story that’s meant to be an illustrative tool.

You can read the fictional story below or watch the fictional story ready in character by Jessie

What’s an Enemy, With Friends Like These?

In high school, I had this friend named Bonnie, and she is probably the nicest person who ever lived. There were all the usual words people use to describe people they don’t really know, like smart or nice or really cool, but Bonnie really is all of those things. In high school, she was tiny, like five foot nothing, with long brown hair and a smile that made you think like, wow, she really is listening to me. Not many people listen to high schoolers, much less other high schoolers. All of us teenage students were like little piranhas shoved in the giant tank called education and we had nobody to eat but each other.

My dad would always say I’m too dramatic.

Anyway, Bonnie and I were friends junior and senior year because we had the same math classes, and it was easy for her and hard for me. The only reason I passed those classes was because of her. And when stuff was getting kinda bad between my dad and mom, she let me come over sometimes. Her house smelled like vanilla, and I could pet her dog and watch movies, and she would let me eat whatever I wanted in the kitchen. She didn’t do it so she could brag or post about how nice she was. She was just kind, straight up. You don’t meet many people like that.

The problem with being kind is that some people hate that. I mean, like, really hate it. For no good reason, too, other than just hating something different. I guess I’m guilty of that sometimes, but Vanessa took it to a whole other level. I’ve never liked Vanessa. She comes from the east side of town where all the white-wearing, banking and lawyering families live, and they’re all mean. Like giving you dirty looks on the sidewalks and stuff, just because you don’t wear Ralph Lauren or whatever. My dad always complained about them driving prices up around town because they could afford the nice restaurants and never tipped.

Those people suck.

Now, to be clear, Bonnie *never* did *anything* to Vanessa. She never did anything to anybody. She even let that girl borrow a sweatshirt when the heating broke in AP English!

But Vanessa was pretty and rich and mean to everyone, and she really had it out for Bonnie for, like, no reason. I still don’t get it.

See, Bonnie had this boyfriend named Silas. He was okay, I guess. She saw something in him I didn’t, but it really wasn’t my business. Bonnie and I were friends, but we weren’t best friends, you know? Anyway, Bonnie and Silas were super in love with each other, and senior year they started sleeping together. Which went great at first—she told me some details but not a lot, giggling and blushing and generally being really happy. And I was happy for her, and we would talk about it over problem sets and proofs that were due the next day but we were putting off so we could eat pretzels and watch Stranger Things.

Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Well, because they were sleeping together and stuff, she had these photos on her phone. Apparently, one day during AP English—and I heard this second-hand because I was in regular English—Bonnie left her phone unlocked on the table when she went to the bathroom because she doesn’t think of protecting herself all the time (even though it’d be smart to) and Vanessa went through her photos, sent herself some really explicit ones, I mean like fully naked and stuff, and then posted them. I don’t know where or anything because she always denied she did it, but then, you know how it is, the pictures went all around the school and it was this huge freaking deal with her parents and Vanessa’s parents and the police almost got involved, and Silas broke up with her and yeah, it was a whole thing.

I don’t really know what after was like. I’ll admit I wasn’t the best friend ever.

She didn’t invite me over anymore and I didn’t feel like I could just go. She moved to sit in the back of the class, and she didn’t answer my texts. Maybe I should have done something, but I didn’t want to do something wrong, you know?

People slowly forgot about the whole thing, then graduation rolled around and Bonnie and I drifted apart. I didn’t know what to say, so we lost contact. I saw on Instagram that she went to Brown, which is so rad, and then moved to New York where she works for this electrical company or something. I thought that’d be the end of it—just high school stuff, you know?

But then the craziest thing happened, and I still don’t understand it.

So Bonnie’s this genius, right? I mean, it’s been ten years and I haven’t seen her since high school—well, we’ve talked on the phone once or twice—but someone doesn’t lose those kinds of smarts. I really admire her for that, you know? How all the school stuff was so easy for her but she worked hard anyway and helped people who needed it. Like me.

Anyway, after all the stuff with Vanessa sharing the naked picture and Silas breaking up with her, she finds religion or something in college. Then, when she moves to New York and gets this super hot-shot job, she sticks with this church there who has this famous pastor and this small group leader she really likes. Everything’s going great for her, right? She has this career, a new boyfriend, God, or whatever, and a great apartment by Central Park West.

It seems like she put all the high school stuff behind her, though I don’t know how. I wish I could.

Now, I got all of this from talking to her mom over lunch. It’s wild. One day, just last month, she gets to work in her pretty blue suit and matching briefcase, and everyone is looking at her weird. I mean weird. Like, usually Cirria at the front desk always says hello and offers her an orange, and today she just stares. And her friend Jerome across the hall doesn’t even acknowledge her. It’s like this hush has fallen across the whole office, and she’s the only one buried beneath it.

It doesn’t take long before she’s called into the HR office. As it turns out, someone has found the forum where Vanessa had posted those pictures all those years ago, and they passed it around the office. The HR team says they don’t know who, but the pictures violate some policy they have on discretion or something equally Puritan and legal-adjacent, and she’s fired. Ta da! Ivy League grad and super-genius, tossed out on her butt because of a photo of her… well, you get it.

It was super unfair. She’s devastated, right?

It’s like she’s seventeen again and the world is over. So she’s crying on the front steps and all the New Yorkers go on walking by because it’s New York and not Iowa, where I guarantee you that wouldn’t happen because we’re all in each other’s business. Then, and you’ll never believe this, but Silas walks by! The ex-boyfriend, in the city for work. She really did love him, you know, but when she tells him everything that happened, he just mumbles an excuse and walks away.

Can you believe that?

Then, as she’s crying more, the small group leader at her church gets out of a taxi! Her small group leader, who she admires so much. Turns out he’s meeting his wife for lunch. Bonnie explains everything, and the pastor gets all red in the face and says he’s going to be late, and just leaves her there. What a tool! The whole God and church thing is supposed to be about love and compassion and stuff, and he leaves her when she’s crying like that! My parents still make me go sometimes, even though I’m nearly thirty, and even I know that’s not the way to do it.

You don’t just leave someone on the side of the road when they need help.

Anyway, it got real bad. She managed to make it back to her apartment and didn’t leave for like, days. Didn’t answer her phone or let anyone in. Then her buzzer goes off. And keeps going and going and going for like, fifteen minutes. Finally Bonnie gets up and buzzes the person in just to get the noise to stop. Well, guess who was standing at her front door thirty seconds later?

It’s Vanessa.

Turns out she’d been living in New York too the whole time. She worked at this fashion magazine as an organizer or editor or something and heard about the thing with Bonnie from one of her friends. I’m not really sure how it happened.

But she got Bonnie’s address and practically kicked her door down and came with groceries and everything.

Dressed like Cruella Deville in a purple suit and pointy heels and this huge hairdo. But she totally got Bonnie back on her feet. Made her take a shower and cooked her food. She even called the police and had them investigate at her workplace because Bonnie was seventeen when the photos were taken, so it technically counts as distributing child pornography. Never mind the fact that Vanessa was the one who spread those photos in the first place. That’s what you get from an east-side chick.

Well, maybe. She did help Bonnie. And she didn’t have to. She went way out of her way which is like, crazy. Bonnie thought so too. Apparently they’re friends now and Bonnie’s had this huge change in her life when it comes to forgiveness and stuff.

I don’t get it. I mean, I haven’t talked to Bonnie about it, so there’s that. I got all this from having lunch with her mom. You know, her folks stuck around? Anyway, but I don’t see how she could let Vanessa take care of her after what she did in high school. I mean, she totally ruined high school for her. She’s from the east side and is such a piece of work. But then Vanessa goes and does something really awesome like that which no one saw coming! It makes no sense. I mean, Bonnie’s mom seemed to understand it, but I really don’t. You don’t either? See? It’s crazy, both Vanessa helping her and Bonnie forgiving her. Like, I couldn’t forgive my dad, not after what he did to my mom. It’s impossible. It’s too hard.