Faster We Burn

you?”
    “Uh, no. Not really. But you shouldn’t use me as a measure of the effectiveness of therapy.” I didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
    “I really missed you,” I said, bumping her shoulder with mine. “You know what I thought when I first saw you?”
    “Do I really want to know?”
    “I thought that we would never get along. I thought that I should have just sucked it up and lived with one of those bitches from high school. How crazy is that?”
    “You know what I thought when I first saw you?” she said.
    “I bet I can guess.”
    “It was, ‘fuck, that’s a lot of pink.’”
    “Surprise, surprise.”
    I whacked her with a pillow, being careful not to upset the ice cream. She grabbed one and hit me with it and we laughed.
    “I got used to it. The pink,” she said, gesturing.
    “You want to know something else? You were a better friend to me in a few weeks than any one of those bitches were in three years. Wanna talk about something crazy.”
    “Trish always says that normal people are boring, that normal people don’t get remembered. It’s the crazies who make history.”
    “Here’s to being crazy.”
    I raised my spoon and we clinked them together again and fought for the rest of the ice cream.

 
     
    Chapter Twenty-three
     
     
    Stryker
     
    I could count the times I’d run into Katie on campus on one hand. Of course, one of those times had to be on Thursday after she’d gotten back. I’d thought in the spirit of our newfound friendship that she would come see me, or want me to see her, but she didn’t. That girl gave more mixed signals than the government.
    I was just coming away from the Starbucks after having caved and bought a crazy expensive coffee to try to give me a jolt. I’d had a hard time sleeping lately. Guilt didn’t make a soft pillow.
    “Hey, friend.” A voice said from behind me. I turned and was met by a tired, but beaming Katie. It had only been a few days since I’d last seen her, but it was almost like seeing her again for the first time. God, she was beautiful. Had I ever appreciated that before?
    Her brown hair was up in its usual high ponytail, but it was a little messier than usual. As if she really didn’t care. Her pink shirt was loose and I could see her bra straps resting on her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing makeup, either, and she had her glasses on.
    “Hey, friend,” I finally said. I wanted to touch her. Hugging her would be a completely appropriate friend thing to do, right? Yes. There were people glaring at me to move along, but I just gave them a glare back. That made them back off a little.
    “What do you want? It’s on me.” I moved aside so she could order. She looked like she was going to protest, so I said, “Friends can buy each other coffee, can’t they?”
    She smiled, just a little.
    “Sure they can. I’ll have a Vanilla Spice Latte.”
    While we waited for our drinks, she stood next to me and I thought this would be a good time for that hug.
    “I’m glad you’re back. I’m sorry we left on a weird note.” I leaned and put my arms around her. She hesitated, and then her arms went around me. I’d held her so much during those days I spent at her house. That closeness had been so easy, so effortless. It was a reflex. She needed something to hold onto, and I just happened to be there.
    I tried not to hold her too tight, or notice how hard her heart was beating, and how her head fit against my chest as if someone had carved a place for it, just for her.
    I tried, but I failed.
    “I missed you, friend,” she whispered as I closed my eyes and breathed her in.
    “I missed you.”
    Our drinks were ready so I had to let go, but I slid my arms down her shoulders, wanting to make the touch last.
    “Listen, I have to get to class, but I’ll see you later? We should hang out. That’s what friends do, right?” she said.
    “Right.”
    “Bye, Stryker. Thanks for the coffee.” She touched my shoulder and then turned away and left. I stood there, watching her go, and realizing I could never, ever be just friends with her.
     
    ***
     
    Ric sent several more threatening messages, but I ignored them. She was just waiting for me to lash out, which is what I normally would have done in a situation like this. She’d known me for long enough to know my patterns.
    Trish showed up at my apartment again, saying that she’d had a fight with her roommate, but I knew it was because she was checking up on me.
    “You know,