saw our entire friendship differently.
The ice cream after my driving test.
The dinosaur drawing.
The lunches after Dad left.
The porch after my first heartbreak.
Noah had never been a responsibility I carried.
We carried each other.
“So what’s your condition?” I asked.
Mom smiled through tears.
“Don’t go to prom because six-year-old Chrissy made a promise.”
She squeezed my hands.
“Go because eighteen-year-old Christina chooses him.”
I laughed softly.
“Mom, that’s already why I’m going.”
“I know that now.”
PART 3
When Mom and I returned downstairs, Noah
