"You want to stay over tonight?" Sarah asks after practice.

Three years ago, I had nearly melted when she asked me that. I had assumed she felt the same as me. I was wrong. We had painted our nails while she gossiped about which guy she thought was the hottest. When she had asked for my input, I had shrugged and said that none of them were ugly. She disagreed and gave me a list of all the ugly boys in our grade.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'll ask my mom." I pulled out my phone and texted her.

"Cool." She looks around the dark school parking lot. 

My phone dinged with my moms approval. "Okay. Let's go."

She smiled and put her hand on my shoulder. My nerves came alive at the touch. "You're not still mad at me, are you?"

I shook my head and managed to smile lightly. "Of course not. We're best friends."

She giggled. "Alas, the best friend gets away with everything! Mwahaha!"

I laugh. It's real, of course, some of it. But I still feel the self-pity that was oh-so-easy to feel. I love Sarah, so, so much, and it hurt to see my feelings weren't returned. I had never loved anyone but her. I don't think I'll ever be able to move on.

A silver car pulled in and we tossed our cheer bags and backpacks into the trunk and hop into the backseat. Together. Smiling.