I had a very restless night, turning this way and that. When I did finally fall asleep, my dreams were filled with pictures of John's breathlessly bright green eyes, tan skin, and my face covered in salty tears. I saw the fear in my eyes reflected in his. I felt like I should grab him, hug him once more, before he moved, or died, or said he never wanted to see me again. I reached out, and my arms enclosed thin air. Instantly, I awoke, but it was only four o'clock in the morning, so I tried to go back to sleep. But knowing what I would see behind my eyelids was too terrifying. So, I tiptoed to the kitchen, careful not to walk hard enough to awake sis and ma.
I looked in our midget-sized pantry and grabbed a pop tart and some very sour orange juice.
A part of me really wants to know what he is keeping from me, and the other part want to cry her eyes out. We have been besties ever since we met in 1st grade. The school bully was pushing me around, and John stood up for me. I did the same for him in 6th grade, though it didn't really help his popularity, a girl standing up for him and all. But he didn't care. He wasn't sexist like that. I kicked his butt on the soccer field, and he kicked mine when we played airsoft. You have no idea how many scars I have. But, we never broke our tight bond. I mean, we had our fair share of fights, but they were never big enough to break us apart.