Waiting, chapter 3
"Got a fucked up equilibrium
Count down from 9 to 5
Hooray! We're gonna die!
Blessed into our extinction."
As soon as the door opened Billie, who looked completely stoned and half asleep, greeted us. He had a joint in his hand, but dropped it as he started puking on the welcome mat under my feet.
"HOLY SHIT!" I screamed, falling backwards down the stairs and landing painfully on the cracked cement that was Billie's sidewalk. Tré jumped back onto the grass, managing to stay on his feet as he dodged Billie's vomit splattering all over the front steps.
"Nice welcome, jackass... " Tré muttered, wiping his shoes off on the grass. I looked over at my feet and saw a brownish-orange slime covering the toe of my shoes, and did everything I could to keep from barfing myself as I gagged and kicked the shoes off frantically. Caitlyn came out and rushed Billie into the bathroom, leaving me and Tré alone in front of the house, watching the puke run down the stairs slowly, dripping down chunk by chunk. It was nasty.
"Billie didn't want to wait for you guys to get high, but I think he went a little overboard on the weed. Here, just jump over this step and I think you can make it into the house... I'll go get the hose," Mike said as he appeared in the doorway, jumping onto the grass from the door way so that he didn't step in the vomit. We were left alone again as Mike went around the side of the house to get the hose. Tré helped me up, and, holding our breath, we managed to get inside the house without stepping in anything.
After Tré kicked off his shoes we sat down on one of the ratty couches in Billie's living room, and found the room to be completely teenager friendly. The table was covered in everything from cards, beer, bong, several joints, porn mags, Mike's prized jar of stolen coke, and to my surprise a bunch of juice boxes. There were CDs scattered randomly all over the place, especially where the CD player was next to the tiny TV. I looked down at my feet and noticed what looked like a smashed mirror, and then saw that the floor was absolutely covered in shit. Garbage of all sorts covered up the carpet, including a Sesame Street picture book, which I picked up. I could tell Billie had gotten really bored one day, because the book had pretty much been turned into some sort of sick porn involving Elmo, Big Bird, and Grover using nothing more than a red crayon.
Just then Caitlyn and Billie came out, Billie looking half dead, and sat down on the couch next to the one Tré and I were on.
"We hadn't even gotten here yet, and you had to go ahead and get wasted? What about shots night? I doubt you could make it past round one with Mike, and he's a pansy when it comes to shots," Tré said to Billie, who looked as if he was falling asleep.
"W-weell you kn-now... I JHUST C-CFLOULDN'T h-hek--," Billie paused to cough up a small piece of tinfoil, "HELP myselfff! I-I-I-I... "
"Dude, wake up! Ah, what a moron... Well at least we have less competition for shots now," I said as Billie collapsed on the ground awkwardly, his arm and face on Caitlyn's lap, drool pouring out of his open mouth. Caitlyn shrugged, laying him in a more comfortable position on the floor before grabbing a joint and lighting it up.
"Alrighty then, let's see. Mike versus me, and Erin versus Caitlyn. Winners play for the championship. Mike, you got the drinks?" Tré said, looking at Mike expectantly as he walked into the house. Mike nodded and went into the kitchen, returning soon with four shots glasses and two bottles of vodka. Wait, vodka?
"Mikey, I thought we were just doing beer tonight? Vodka seems a little harsh for a school night," I said with concern, looking at the pure white vodka uneasily as Mike placed it on the table.
"And since when is Erin, the queen of shots, worried about school?" Tré teased me, and everyone laughed a little as I glared at him.
"I'm just saying! We'll have some pretty fucking bad hangovers tomorrow... You know you can get suspended for going to school like that," I reasoned with them, but the response was the same.
"Who cares if you get suspended? It's like a freaking forced holiday! How sweet is that? Besides, even if you didn't want to get suspended, you could just skip school," Mike explained reassuringly, "Unless you're too scared to skip... "
"Shut the fuck up! We skipped today didn't we, you moron? Let's just play, never mind the hangovers. At least I can say I told you so!" I growled, grabbing two of the shots glasses and gesturing for Caitlyn to do the same. We cleared the table and got ready to play, Caitlyn and I sitting on opposite sides. With a devilish smirk Tré filled both of our glasses with the crystal clear vodka, and put his hand on the table for the countdown.
"Mike, you ready with the paper?" Tré asked, and Mike nodded as he got ready to count each shot that was drunk.
"Alright. On your mark, get set, GO!" Tré announced, and the game started. Caitlyn and I swallowed our first shots without a breath, and immediately dove for the second. As soon as each empty cup was placed back on the table, Tré filled it back up with the vodka, ready to be swallowed.
Caitlyn lasted a surprisingly long time, especially since it was with vodka. But eventually she gave in, and after her twelfth shot she ran into the bathroom with her hands on her mouth.
"Alright, Erin wins! Now it's me and Mikey's turn," Tré squealed excitedly, squirming in his spot on the couch like a kid about to go on a roller coaster for the first time.
"Just gimme a sec," I said, dashing into the bathroom after Caitlyn. I found her head in the toilet, just as I expected. I kneeled beside her and held her hair up as she puked up a bunch of distorted yellow liquid, and got her a wet towel once she was done.
"You know, this is supposed to be Billie's job," I said as Caitlyn rinsed out her mouth vigorously.
"Yeah, well, you can never say no to a guy like that. Even if it means he's gonna get high outta his mind," Caitlyn said with a small smile, wiping off her face and sighing heavily.
"While we're alone, can I ask you something?" Caitlyn nodded. "What's Billie like? I mean, I'm only used to him being a stubborn jackass that picks on his friends all the time. I don't mean that in a bad way, though."
"He's... Well I dunno, he's Billie. It's hard to explain, but he's really different as a... Well, a boyfriend, I guess. I have to get used to calling him that," Caitlyn said with a smile. "I don't know. He's the sweetest person in the world once you know him the way I do now."
I nodded and smiled, patting Caitlyn on the back reassuringly as we left the bathroom. We found Tré nearly rolling on the floor with excitement, and the shots glasses already poured and ready.
"What took you so long?" Mike asked us as we sat down on the couches.
"Oh, I dunno, maybe Caitlyn had her head halfway down the toilet and was too busy spewing her guts out to referee your underage shots game?" I teased, and was punched playfully in the arm by Mike. Tré finally stopped giggling and sat down opposite to Mike, as I put my hand on the table like Tré had done for Caitlyn and I.
"Alright, ready? On your marks, get set, GO!" I announced, grinning as I watched Tré work his shot-playing magic.
Of course, Tré won, an astounding 25 to 13 lose for Mike. Unlike Caitlyn Mike had a stomach of steel, and he didn't even look queasy after all of that heavy alcohol.
"Alright, THE CHAMPIONSHIPS!" I exclaimed excitedly, laughing as Tré fell over and hit his head on the table.
"DAMMIT!" I heard from under my feet, feeling Tré grab my right foot randomly. I kicked him and eventually he dragged himself up to sit at the table, opposite me. Once the drinks were poured, Caitlyn and Mike counted us down simultaneously, leaning in to watch us with intent eyes. As soon as they said "go", Tré and I started the race with a boom.
I started to get pretty queasy after the first couple of drinks, but I couldn't lose to Tré again. I sucked it up and kept on slugging down those shots, one after the other, until time seemed to stop. We were going for what seemed like hours, neither one of us giving in at all.
I forced myself to keep from puking as we continued, keeping my stomach quiet with more drinks. Tré was obviously having fun, although I'm sure he was out of it for the most part.
Unfortunately, I just had to black out when I hit my head on the table for no apparent reason, and I woke up later to find out I had been out cold for three hours.
"You okay, Erin? Holy shit, I thought you were dead!" Tré exclaimed stupidly, slapping my face repeatedly. I groaned, but was too weak to stop him.
"Get the fuck off me, you bastard... " I whined as loudly as I could, but since Tré was sitting on my stomach I could barely breathe, let alone yell.
Mike came to my rescue, dragging Tré off of me and helping me sit up. Once I was in a more comfortable position I vomited, my head pounding from the alcohol I had consumed, and continued coughing until all the spew was finally out of my stomach. I wiped my mouth off and sighed in relief, looking around to see what had happened while I was out on the floor. Billie was awake again, with his arm around Caitlyn's waist, looking at me with a wide smirk.
"Oh, sorry... " I said slowly, remembering we were in Billie's house and that I had puked on his VCR. "If I had any cash I'd buy you a new one."
"Forget about it, it didn't really work anyway," Billie reassured me, pulling Caitlyn closer slightly and turning back to the TV that I guess they had been watching. Tré was now getting his ass kicked by Mike on the opposite side of the room, leaving me on the floor by myself, the puke slowly inching its way through the shaggy carpet towards my shorts (well, Tré's shorts). I rolled over pathetically, eventually ending up on Billie and Caitlyn's feet.
"Wow... Getting knocked out cold really makes you tired," I mumbled, closing my eyes and yawning slowly. Billie rolled me onto my stomach and off of his feet with his foot, leaning in for a kiss with Caitlyn.
"You know, I can still see you two, you fuck tards... Get a friggin' room, would yah?" I complained, glaring at the two as they continued to ignore me.
"Fine then," I muttered, slowly getting to my feet at the edge of the couch. I had forgotten how it felt to be totally piss-ass drunk; I started wobbling, and then tripped over my own feet and came crashing down, backwards, onto Billie's table, breaking it cleanly through the middle and knocking three bottles of vodka and several open beer cans onto the floor loudly. "Fuuuuccckkkkk... "
"Aw, dammit, Erin!" Billie whined, getting up from the couch remorsefully and pulling me up from the table by my arms. He somehow managed to swing me over his shoulders, which unfortunately made me puke again, this time down the back of his shirt. "You little shit... Aww, nasty, dude!"
He hurriedly carried me outside onto the front steps, tossing me onto the grass with a painful thud. He then ripped off his puke-soaked shirt, throwing it to the ground with disgust and glaring at me angrily before going back into the house into the bathroom.
I slowly sat up as I heard the shower turn on in the bathroom, and realized that since I had been upside down over Billie's shoulder when I was sick, my face and hair were covered in my own puke. Yeah. That was totally disgusting. So I sat there pathetically, squealing with disgust and shaking my hands pointlessly as the puke ran down my face and onto my shirt.
Eventually I saw Mike kick Tré out the door, slamming it in his face and sending Tré to the ground about a foot away from me. He was whining pathetically and rubbing his head for a few moments before he realized I was there.
"Why did Bill—aw Man! Shit! That's nasty!" Tré exclaimed with disgust as he saw what I was covered in. He then watched me squirm and whine, sitting on the grass uncomfortably, unsure of what to do about the vomit covering my head.
"I know! I know! Get it offa me, pleeaassee!" I cried, tears forming in my eyes as the puke burned my skin.
Tré got up and grabbed the hose that Mike had left on the front steps, looking at me sympathetically before turning it on. My face was blasted with freezing cold water, sending me flying backwards with water up my nose, making it feel like my brain was on fire. I started crying pathetically, coughing as I choked on the water being shot rapidly into my mouth and all over my face. However Tré continued hosing me off, from my head to my socks, looking down on me like a gardener tending to his flowers.
"S-ttopp-flhpf! Ahhh-ouupflphh!" I spluttered, trying to breath as the freezing water continued to make my face numb and sting my already sore eyes. Of course my glasses were long gone now; they had been shot off of my face as soon as Tré had turned on the hose. "STOP!"
The hose shut off abruptly, leaving me in a soaking wet, freezing cold, choking heap on the grass.
"There we are, all clean!" Tré said proudly, and I looked up to see him grinning proudly, hands on his waist, looking at me cheerfully. I moaned in pain, curling up into a ball and shaking with the cold. Well, at least I didn't have the puke on me anymore. But my clothes were clinging to my freezing body, since not a spot on me was dry. Tré's board shorts, which were white, become more-or-less see-through as they clung to my ass and legs, and water dripped from every corner of my body as I got colder and colder.
"Tré... "I moaned, still shivering and crying quietly on the ground as Tré did a little victory dance around the yard happily. Finally he stopped, and looked down on me with a frown on his face.
"Here, c'mon. They obviously don't want us here anymore... Let's go home, I'll make you some hot chocolate. And hey, if you're lucky, I'll make us a fire without burning the house down," Tré said softly, making me smile, picking me up in his arms and pushing the wet hair out of my face.
And so we went to Tré's house like that; I was in Tré's arms, now slightly warmer from his body heat, both of us dripping from the water that soaked my clothes. If anyone saw us like this as we passed by, I'd guess they must've though we were a pretty weird sight. But, as usual, we didn't care about them. As long as I was with my best friend, I couldn't ask for more.
Count down from 9 to 5
Hooray! We're gonna die!
Blessed into our extinction."
As soon as the door opened Billie, who looked completely stoned and half asleep, greeted us. He had a joint in his hand, but dropped it as he started puking on the welcome mat under my feet.
"HOLY SHIT!" I screamed, falling backwards down the stairs and landing painfully on the cracked cement that was Billie's sidewalk. Tré jumped back onto the grass, managing to stay on his feet as he dodged Billie's vomit splattering all over the front steps.
"Nice welcome, jackass... " Tré muttered, wiping his shoes off on the grass. I looked over at my feet and saw a brownish-orange slime covering the toe of my shoes, and did everything I could to keep from barfing myself as I gagged and kicked the shoes off frantically. Caitlyn came out and rushed Billie into the bathroom, leaving me and Tré alone in front of the house, watching the puke run down the stairs slowly, dripping down chunk by chunk. It was nasty.
"Billie didn't want to wait for you guys to get high, but I think he went a little overboard on the weed. Here, just jump over this step and I think you can make it into the house... I'll go get the hose," Mike said as he appeared in the doorway, jumping onto the grass from the door way so that he didn't step in the vomit. We were left alone again as Mike went around the side of the house to get the hose. Tré helped me up, and, holding our breath, we managed to get inside the house without stepping in anything.
After Tré kicked off his shoes we sat down on one of the ratty couches in Billie's living room, and found the room to be completely teenager friendly. The table was covered in everything from cards, beer, bong, several joints, porn mags, Mike's prized jar of stolen coke, and to my surprise a bunch of juice boxes. There were CDs scattered randomly all over the place, especially where the CD player was next to the tiny TV. I looked down at my feet and noticed what looked like a smashed mirror, and then saw that the floor was absolutely covered in shit. Garbage of all sorts covered up the carpet, including a Sesame Street picture book, which I picked up. I could tell Billie had gotten really bored one day, because the book had pretty much been turned into some sort of sick porn involving Elmo, Big Bird, and Grover using nothing more than a red crayon.
Just then Caitlyn and Billie came out, Billie looking half dead, and sat down on the couch next to the one Tré and I were on.
"We hadn't even gotten here yet, and you had to go ahead and get wasted? What about shots night? I doubt you could make it past round one with Mike, and he's a pansy when it comes to shots," Tré said to Billie, who looked as if he was falling asleep.
"W-weell you kn-now... I JHUST C-CFLOULDN'T h-hek--," Billie paused to cough up a small piece of tinfoil, "HELP myselfff! I-I-I-I... "
"Dude, wake up! Ah, what a moron... Well at least we have less competition for shots now," I said as Billie collapsed on the ground awkwardly, his arm and face on Caitlyn's lap, drool pouring out of his open mouth. Caitlyn shrugged, laying him in a more comfortable position on the floor before grabbing a joint and lighting it up.
"Alrighty then, let's see. Mike versus me, and Erin versus Caitlyn. Winners play for the championship. Mike, you got the drinks?" Tré said, looking at Mike expectantly as he walked into the house. Mike nodded and went into the kitchen, returning soon with four shots glasses and two bottles of vodka. Wait, vodka?
"Mikey, I thought we were just doing beer tonight? Vodka seems a little harsh for a school night," I said with concern, looking at the pure white vodka uneasily as Mike placed it on the table.
"And since when is Erin, the queen of shots, worried about school?" Tré teased me, and everyone laughed a little as I glared at him.
"I'm just saying! We'll have some pretty fucking bad hangovers tomorrow... You know you can get suspended for going to school like that," I reasoned with them, but the response was the same.
"Who cares if you get suspended? It's like a freaking forced holiday! How sweet is that? Besides, even if you didn't want to get suspended, you could just skip school," Mike explained reassuringly, "Unless you're too scared to skip... "
"Shut the fuck up! We skipped today didn't we, you moron? Let's just play, never mind the hangovers. At least I can say I told you so!" I growled, grabbing two of the shots glasses and gesturing for Caitlyn to do the same. We cleared the table and got ready to play, Caitlyn and I sitting on opposite sides. With a devilish smirk Tré filled both of our glasses with the crystal clear vodka, and put his hand on the table for the countdown.
"Mike, you ready with the paper?" Tré asked, and Mike nodded as he got ready to count each shot that was drunk.
"Alright. On your mark, get set, GO!" Tré announced, and the game started. Caitlyn and I swallowed our first shots without a breath, and immediately dove for the second. As soon as each empty cup was placed back on the table, Tré filled it back up with the vodka, ready to be swallowed.
Caitlyn lasted a surprisingly long time, especially since it was with vodka. But eventually she gave in, and after her twelfth shot she ran into the bathroom with her hands on her mouth.
"Alright, Erin wins! Now it's me and Mikey's turn," Tré squealed excitedly, squirming in his spot on the couch like a kid about to go on a roller coaster for the first time.
"Just gimme a sec," I said, dashing into the bathroom after Caitlyn. I found her head in the toilet, just as I expected. I kneeled beside her and held her hair up as she puked up a bunch of distorted yellow liquid, and got her a wet towel once she was done.
"You know, this is supposed to be Billie's job," I said as Caitlyn rinsed out her mouth vigorously.
"Yeah, well, you can never say no to a guy like that. Even if it means he's gonna get high outta his mind," Caitlyn said with a small smile, wiping off her face and sighing heavily.
"While we're alone, can I ask you something?" Caitlyn nodded. "What's Billie like? I mean, I'm only used to him being a stubborn jackass that picks on his friends all the time. I don't mean that in a bad way, though."
"He's... Well I dunno, he's Billie. It's hard to explain, but he's really different as a... Well, a boyfriend, I guess. I have to get used to calling him that," Caitlyn said with a smile. "I don't know. He's the sweetest person in the world once you know him the way I do now."
I nodded and smiled, patting Caitlyn on the back reassuringly as we left the bathroom. We found Tré nearly rolling on the floor with excitement, and the shots glasses already poured and ready.
"What took you so long?" Mike asked us as we sat down on the couches.
"Oh, I dunno, maybe Caitlyn had her head halfway down the toilet and was too busy spewing her guts out to referee your underage shots game?" I teased, and was punched playfully in the arm by Mike. Tré finally stopped giggling and sat down opposite to Mike, as I put my hand on the table like Tré had done for Caitlyn and I.
"Alright, ready? On your marks, get set, GO!" I announced, grinning as I watched Tré work his shot-playing magic.
Of course, Tré won, an astounding 25 to 13 lose for Mike. Unlike Caitlyn Mike had a stomach of steel, and he didn't even look queasy after all of that heavy alcohol.
"Alright, THE CHAMPIONSHIPS!" I exclaimed excitedly, laughing as Tré fell over and hit his head on the table.
"DAMMIT!" I heard from under my feet, feeling Tré grab my right foot randomly. I kicked him and eventually he dragged himself up to sit at the table, opposite me. Once the drinks were poured, Caitlyn and Mike counted us down simultaneously, leaning in to watch us with intent eyes. As soon as they said "go", Tré and I started the race with a boom.
I started to get pretty queasy after the first couple of drinks, but I couldn't lose to Tré again. I sucked it up and kept on slugging down those shots, one after the other, until time seemed to stop. We were going for what seemed like hours, neither one of us giving in at all.
I forced myself to keep from puking as we continued, keeping my stomach quiet with more drinks. Tré was obviously having fun, although I'm sure he was out of it for the most part.
Unfortunately, I just had to black out when I hit my head on the table for no apparent reason, and I woke up later to find out I had been out cold for three hours.
"You okay, Erin? Holy shit, I thought you were dead!" Tré exclaimed stupidly, slapping my face repeatedly. I groaned, but was too weak to stop him.
"Get the fuck off me, you bastard... " I whined as loudly as I could, but since Tré was sitting on my stomach I could barely breathe, let alone yell.
Mike came to my rescue, dragging Tré off of me and helping me sit up. Once I was in a more comfortable position I vomited, my head pounding from the alcohol I had consumed, and continued coughing until all the spew was finally out of my stomach. I wiped my mouth off and sighed in relief, looking around to see what had happened while I was out on the floor. Billie was awake again, with his arm around Caitlyn's waist, looking at me with a wide smirk.
"Oh, sorry... " I said slowly, remembering we were in Billie's house and that I had puked on his VCR. "If I had any cash I'd buy you a new one."
"Forget about it, it didn't really work anyway," Billie reassured me, pulling Caitlyn closer slightly and turning back to the TV that I guess they had been watching. Tré was now getting his ass kicked by Mike on the opposite side of the room, leaving me on the floor by myself, the puke slowly inching its way through the shaggy carpet towards my shorts (well, Tré's shorts). I rolled over pathetically, eventually ending up on Billie and Caitlyn's feet.
"Wow... Getting knocked out cold really makes you tired," I mumbled, closing my eyes and yawning slowly. Billie rolled me onto my stomach and off of his feet with his foot, leaning in for a kiss with Caitlyn.
"You know, I can still see you two, you fuck tards... Get a friggin' room, would yah?" I complained, glaring at the two as they continued to ignore me.
"Fine then," I muttered, slowly getting to my feet at the edge of the couch. I had forgotten how it felt to be totally piss-ass drunk; I started wobbling, and then tripped over my own feet and came crashing down, backwards, onto Billie's table, breaking it cleanly through the middle and knocking three bottles of vodka and several open beer cans onto the floor loudly. "Fuuuuccckkkkk... "
"Aw, dammit, Erin!" Billie whined, getting up from the couch remorsefully and pulling me up from the table by my arms. He somehow managed to swing me over his shoulders, which unfortunately made me puke again, this time down the back of his shirt. "You little shit... Aww, nasty, dude!"
He hurriedly carried me outside onto the front steps, tossing me onto the grass with a painful thud. He then ripped off his puke-soaked shirt, throwing it to the ground with disgust and glaring at me angrily before going back into the house into the bathroom.
I slowly sat up as I heard the shower turn on in the bathroom, and realized that since I had been upside down over Billie's shoulder when I was sick, my face and hair were covered in my own puke. Yeah. That was totally disgusting. So I sat there pathetically, squealing with disgust and shaking my hands pointlessly as the puke ran down my face and onto my shirt.
Eventually I saw Mike kick Tré out the door, slamming it in his face and sending Tré to the ground about a foot away from me. He was whining pathetically and rubbing his head for a few moments before he realized I was there.
"Why did Bill—aw Man! Shit! That's nasty!" Tré exclaimed with disgust as he saw what I was covered in. He then watched me squirm and whine, sitting on the grass uncomfortably, unsure of what to do about the vomit covering my head.
"I know! I know! Get it offa me, pleeaassee!" I cried, tears forming in my eyes as the puke burned my skin.
Tré got up and grabbed the hose that Mike had left on the front steps, looking at me sympathetically before turning it on. My face was blasted with freezing cold water, sending me flying backwards with water up my nose, making it feel like my brain was on fire. I started crying pathetically, coughing as I choked on the water being shot rapidly into my mouth and all over my face. However Tré continued hosing me off, from my head to my socks, looking down on me like a gardener tending to his flowers.
"S-ttopp-flhpf! Ahhh-ouupflphh!" I spluttered, trying to breath as the freezing water continued to make my face numb and sting my already sore eyes. Of course my glasses were long gone now; they had been shot off of my face as soon as Tré had turned on the hose. "STOP!"
The hose shut off abruptly, leaving me in a soaking wet, freezing cold, choking heap on the grass.
"There we are, all clean!" Tré said proudly, and I looked up to see him grinning proudly, hands on his waist, looking at me cheerfully. I moaned in pain, curling up into a ball and shaking with the cold. Well, at least I didn't have the puke on me anymore. But my clothes were clinging to my freezing body, since not a spot on me was dry. Tré's board shorts, which were white, become more-or-less see-through as they clung to my ass and legs, and water dripped from every corner of my body as I got colder and colder.
"Tré... "I moaned, still shivering and crying quietly on the ground as Tré did a little victory dance around the yard happily. Finally he stopped, and looked down on me with a frown on his face.
"Here, c'mon. They obviously don't want us here anymore... Let's go home, I'll make you some hot chocolate. And hey, if you're lucky, I'll make us a fire without burning the house down," Tré said softly, making me smile, picking me up in his arms and pushing the wet hair out of my face.
And so we went to Tré's house like that; I was in Tré's arms, now slightly warmer from his body heat, both of us dripping from the water that soaked my clothes. If anyone saw us like this as we passed by, I'd guess they must've though we were a pretty weird sight. But, as usual, we didn't care about them. As long as I was with my best friend, I couldn't ask for more.
