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I swiped the wetness from my cheeks and let her pull my head against her shoulder, allowing her to become a temporary reprieve from the grief that I hadn’t released yet. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized that I’d been lacking in the solace that she so eagerly wanted to give me. I squeezed my eyes shut and just took comfort in her sweetness. A sweetness bordering on intimacy that had always only been at the surface of our relationship but never penetrable. Always forbidden in our minds.
When I finally found my voice and was able to speak without choking on my words, I lifted my head. “You’re right. Thanks.”
“When are you going to learn to listen to me?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Never.”
“Right, because I’m just a girl and girls don’t know anything.”
I laughed. That was something I’d said to her when we were about eleven years old, and she’d never let me forget it. It had been right around the time we’d vowed to marry each other when we grew up. In sixth grade, we’d actually kissed. It was her twelfth birthday, and spin the bottle was the game of choice. Parental supervision had been scarce, and everyone was taking advantage of it. It was my turn and I spun the bottle. I’d closed my eyes, not wanting it to point to anyone except Melody, and was pleasantly surprised when it stopped and aimed directly at her. I remembered her sheepish smile as I scooted close to her. When my lips had touched hers, everyone started counting. The longer the count, the more noise everyone made. I believe we made it to twenty-five before I opened my eyes and slowly drew back.
Except, after that day, neither one of us had ever dared to bring up that kiss again. In fact, the topic remained so far off the table that we’d never even dated as teenagers or become romantically involved in any sense of the term. Now that we were twenty-one, Mel and I were still best friends.
