Friends Perhaps

"You're the stupidest person I've ever met" read the What-I-Think-of-You section of her slam book.
That's what he thought of her? The stupidest person whom he had ever met? Really? She read and re-read it, over a dozen times until it became absolutely clear to her that what she was reading was indeed written. She traced the movement of the pen as it had glided over the paper temporarily leaving behind permanent marks which disturbed her thoughts. Not that she had special affection in reserve for him, nothing of the sort. But then they were friends and classmates; she had expected softer and sweeter words, also considering that this was perhaps their last year of being together in the same institution.
They had begun as any two friends begin- as strangers. They were however in the same class and the intersecting set of their common interests seemed to be greater than usual. So they gradually became friends. Then good friends.
Today, on the last day before the impending examinations she had brought her slam book to treasure the few people whom she actually liked in the large fair of different types of people ranging from the simpleton to the queen of faked-ness that her class was. He was among the chosen few.
Though their conversations had decreased over the course of the previous two years she felt an underlying sense of familiarity with him. A sort of connection that didn't need a formal acknowledgment. They were friends.
Yet a lot had changed in the two years. She wasn't the strong person she was at the beginning of the two years. She had turned into something she herself couldn't realize, any attempt to make her comprehend the perceptible changes met with staunch denial from her side. He had changed too, got thinner, better at studies, had a girlfriend now and was probably more widely known.
She didn't really get along with everyone in the group, she wasn't comfortable. So she changed her company but at the same time maintained her friendship with the chosen few.
This sudden distance that was evident from his comment in the book was actually not all that sudden. Though he had always kept a level of friendship and had even consoled her during one of the emotional lows, she felt herself and him as a consequence, to be different.
Her mind began to wander. Perhaps she was imagining all of it, perhaps it hadn't even occurred! She glanced at the slam book and it was the end of these doubt. New doubt cropped up in her head-on maybe she was the only one who felt the connection and not he, maybe she had imagined the entire friendship maybe she was the only one amongst the two who thought the other to be a friend and a sensible person. Maybe the world was a lie.
She started out of the window and saw the sun dipping into the water leaving behind a palette of red and orange. It seemed to be rather rough, as if the last time the brush touched it left it bruised and wounded. She saw the birds flying together in the V- formation, wondering the basis on which the order of precedence was decided. Did friends support friends? She peered down at the fence that surrounded the garden and saw a gray cat lying there on the soft green grass as it mused about thoughts unknown to man. And some, perhaps, known.