Addiction

--25--More Than An Addiction--

 "I think that's the last of it," Liam remarked late that next Saturday night as we moved into my new room.

"Finally," I sighed, plopping onto my bed, "I'm done moving shit for a while."
"I moved most of it," he laughed, sitting down next to me.

"Still," I said, giving him a look.

"Have you called your mom yet?" he asked.

"Yeah," I sighed, "I apologized for sneaking out, she apologized for saying the things she said, but it's not just going to get better just because she said some kind of magic word, she hurt me, so did Nikki."

"Have you talked to Nikki about it?" he asked.

"No," I sighed, "That's going to be harder."

"She's your best friend," he said, "You need to fix things with her."

"Well maybe you're my best friend now," I remarked.

"I'm not letting you be one of those girls," he said, "I can't let you do that to her or to you."
"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're not going to be one of those girls who ditches her friend and attaches herself to her boyfriend and then he becomes her only friend," he said.

"You're not my only friend," I said, rolling my eyes, "I don't know if I want to repair things, or if things can even be repaired after what she did to my relationship with my parents, not to mention all the people that heard the shit she said about me."

"Please at least try to fix things, that way if she's a pain in the ass then she's the bad guy," he pleaded.

"Fine," I sighed, "But that can wait until tomorrow. Know what can't?"
"What?" he asked.

"This," I grinned, leaning over and kissing him on the lips.
@@@
The next day, Liam sort of forced me to go over to the apartment and talk to Nikki while he was at practice.

Nikki and I had been best friends for as long as I could remember. For the most part though, our personalities were very different. I was a tomboy growing up, refusing to put on dresses and skirts or anything pink while she would be dressed to the nines in her dresses with matching hair bows and shoes when she came over, even though I would eventually convince her to change into some of my leggings and an old t-shirt so we could go play outside in the mud and dirt and climb trees. She was a figure skater, I was a hockey player, we had both gone to learn to skate when we were four and I chose hockey for the action and intensity and she chose figure skating because she was so graceful and ladylike.

But we always got along perfectly, she made me more ladylike and graceful and I made her more adventurous and eventually I gave in and started wearing makeup my sophomore year of high school and never stopped making her step out of her comfort zone to try new things.

I stood there at the apartment door, wringing my hands, waiting for her to answer the door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, a blank expression covering her face.

"We need to talk," I replied.

"Now?" she asked.

"Now," I replied.

"Fine," she sighed, "Come in then I guess."

"I forgive you," I blurted as we awkwardly stood there in the middle of the room, "And I'm sorry if you felt like I was ditching you or that I got bored with you and I'm sorry I lied to you. You're still my best friend no matter if I have a boyfriend or not." 

"Thanks for that," she sighed, "I'm really, really sorry about saying all that stuff about you at New Year's, that was totally terrible of me and I completely understand why you wanted to move out."