Sharing the Load

The last of the pizza crusts had been devoured, the movie credits had rolled, and the glow of the bedside lamp cast long, dancing shadows across my bedroom floor. Outside, the world was hushed, but inside, a new kind of quiet had settled between Katie and me. It wasn’t an awkward quiet, not anymore. It was a thoughtful one, like the hush before a really important conversation. We were nestled in my bed, sandwiched between a mountain of fluffy pillows, the remnants of our sleepover feast scattered around us.

“So,” Katie started, her voice soft, “about James.”

I nodded, pulling my knees up to my chest. The argument from yesterday felt like a distant storm, its thunder long gone, leaving behind only the fresh, clean scent of understanding. We’d cried, we’d talked, and we’d realized that our friendship, the one we’d built since kindergarten, was way more precious than any crush.