She looked up at me. “Also,” I continued, prompting her to return her gaze to me. We had no idea he was going to be coming over. “Should I tell her?” she asked me quietly. “But thanks for making me feel better,” she added with a grin. For months. “Because I feel addicted to you. Not to mention, how the deer died.” I scratched the back of my head briefly. An earsplitting CRACK filled the room as the whole thing split in two, erupting in half and smashing into the floor with another boisterous crash. I had my arm out like I was hugging her, but she always waited until right before it was going to snap the shot to lean into me. You’re making my chest start to gray.”
“Oh, okay,” she said with mock disappointment. What then? Because it felt like she was speaking about impossibilities, and even the idea that she was serious about possibly sharing me with my lifelong friend felt surreal.
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