11. Friday.

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2016/03/12 Friday

I spent the night in a state of half-sleep and half-awake. Because through the entire dream I knew it was just that: a dream. And while I spent the unconscious half of the night running away from a woman who had Huntington's, I spent the conscious part of the night hugging a pillow to my chest and snuggling into my blankets in an attempt to find warmth.

Pete texted me as soon as I opened my messenger and he could see that I was online. The text said when can I see u today? And I was happy that the awkwardness after Tuesday's kiss had disappeared and so had the weird desire to kiss him. Although, I had convinced myself, if he ever kissed me I'd kiss back immediately for fear that if I didn't, he'd stop talking to me again.

If u don't mind pajamas: right now. At the same time, I texted Gerard to let him know that I needed help to get into my chair. But he texted me back saying that he was with Frank and could it wait just a few minutes. I typed back a short okay. And hoped that Gerard finished up before Pete got here.

But Pete beat Gerard and when there was a knock at the door I heard Frank yell just a minute but his voice was strained the way Pete's had been when he was crying. And then, a minute and 20 seconds later, I heard their bedroom door swing open and heard Frank open the front door.

I heard Pete's voice but, from the comfort of my bed, I couldn't hear what it was saying. I heard Frank laugh after a little while and then Pete made his way into the house and into my bedroom where I sat on my bed in my pajamas with messy hair, bad breath and without my chair.

I really hated that fucking chair but there was no doubt about it, I felt naked without it. Pete grinned at me and stood in my doorway like he needed permission to come in. Hey, best friend. He said and he sounded better than yesterday but I could tell he was nervous and I could see that he'd been crying.

Hey, best friend. I replied and then he closed the door behind him and flopped on to the bed next to me. I lay down too, but my head was on the pillow and Pete's was right about at my shoulder and I wanted to move down but I couldn't on account of the fact that I had Useless Logs of Fat™ instead of legs.

He seemed to realize this too after a while because he wiggled his way up so that our heads were next to each other and I could smell his cologne. I came to borrow a book. He said. And I knew that he was talking about The Boy in Striped Pajamas but I hoped that he wasn't because it felt strange to think about lending it to someone.

The Boy in Striped Pajamas was almost like my baby and it felt strange to be lending that out to someone even if it was my Best Friend for Life, which was Pete. And when I didn't say anything for long enough, Pete turned on to his side so that he could look at me and he said. Can I borrow The Boy in Striped Pajamas, please?

And I fought of the impulse to correct his grammar by saying No, but you can lend it. As if that would make the situation better because maybe then he would laugh. But I knew that he wouldn't. So, instead I turned to him and said that he could. But I didn't give it to him.

We just stared at each other for a long time. And then, eventually, he told me that he wasn't sure whether he wanted to do the testing anymore and I tried to convince him to do it by telling him that if he didn't do it, he'd live his entire life not knowing whether he was sick or not. And then he looked at me and put his hand on my cheek and I wasn't sure whether this was the sort of thing that all best friends did.

But we weren't just best friends. We were Best Friends for Life and that was different. It meant different boundaries and just then, I thought I saw him inch closer to me like he was going to kiss me and I prepared myself to kiss him back just in case that was what he was going to do. Except that he didn't kiss me, only stared at me for a long time before he pulled his hand away.

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