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Her point of view:

I’m sitting here, watching him - still asleep, you look so peaceful, so content. I’m just replaying last night’s events in my head over and over again....

He’s been my best friend since the week he moved to town in junior high. We’d met by accident at lunch his first day (okay, so it was my fault, but I didn‘t mean to drop the tray), and we ended up having most of our school day in the same classes. Once we paired up, we were unstoppable. We’d terrorized our teachers endlessly, but somehow just managing to not get into any real trouble. We got by together, studying when we absolutely had to, letting our homework slide, and just barely making the grade. You know, former four-point students turned honor roll slackers. We spent most of our class time huddled together giggling, usually about our little inside jokes that no one else could understand. Most of high school was spent like that, really - other friends and people practically dropped out of our lives, except for the occasional significant other. Our relationships seemed to suffer because the other person couldn‘t deal with the degree of closeness my best friend and I maintained. It became a running joke of ours that we were a package deal - you couldn’t date just one of us. We’ve always been so different. It’s amazing that we’re friends in the first place. He’s the outgoing one, the extrovert, the man who knows everyone everywhere. The guy who can cook anything and fix whatever’s ...

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