Sigmund Sourberry had a lonely life.

When others had friends to talk to, Sigmund was sitting on his chair and ate his lunch.

How do they do it? Have a friend and talk and eat lunch at the same time that is.

The student had no idea how others socialized, it would never come to his mind to

'just do it'.

Sigmund wanted to have a friend, one that was worth his own friendship.

The teen had not had a real friendship yet, which made friendship a scarce and valuable thing.

Who could live up to that hype? Who would be a friend so trustworthy and valuable?

It might be the case, that none of all students in the entire school met the criteria.

Sigmund knew that and also felt that it might be hard to grade the worth of a friend.

After all he had no reference point.

Sigmund knew everything he ought to know about reference points.

When looking at the sky for hours at end, a very interesting activity, one could never see how far the clouds were from oneself as there was no reference point.

Eventually it would be disrupted by someone, referring to him as 'Sourberry give me your lunch money or I will strip you naked and put your clothes into the trash, where they belong'.

Someone like that would never be worth his own friendship. They only got his money because they were threatening him, not because he wanted to give them the money.

"That ought to be some reference point", Sigmund thought.

His mom was a very good friend, but that did not count. His father also was very supportive.

Maybe not as honest as mom, but who knows?

They had him tested by a nice man, a doctor, who said that he was normal, but his father didn't believe a thing. "There ought to be a way to help him.", were his words to the doctor.

Sigmund would like if someone helped him pick the right and most valuable friend.

As only the most valuable friend could be his friend. Picking the wrong friend might be catastrophic, a really bad false friend. He knew that from experience.

In the end several things had ended up stolen and never returned, inviting his bad false friend to his house did do that, and it had been catastrophic.

Sigmund had finished his lunch. Next up was language, which was easy, all you had to do was memorize the words and synatx and you were good to go.

There were many things easy here, but some students were really really bad at them.

Sigmund did not know why, maybe it was because they didn't listen?

Was having friends making them worse listeners?

So many things were much much harder to understand than the lessons with helpful teachers to answer all the questions he had. When he had asked ms. Mayar once a real question about how to get a friend, she had only sighed and told him, that she could not tell him how, except talking to others more.

But Sigmund only wanted to talk to his friend or someone he picked to be a friend.

At least he knew in case he found a worthy candidate. Teachers weren't really all knowing and all powerful, but it seemed like they knew a lot of things - only class related sadly.

If he could just ask a teacher every time he did not know something.

'Sourberry', he was referred to. Sigmund hated when he was referred to with his surname. That always meant trouble. He didn't respond because he was told that 'that is what they want'. Never giving a response or reaction to them would, at least that was the plan, bore them and make them stop bothering him.

That had not worked so far, but Sigmund kept hoping.