Best Friends Forever

Prologue - Dahlia

For as long as I could remember, I've been in love with my best friend, Courtney.

As far back as first grade, when we had held hands for the first time, I knew that I was hopelessly devoted to her. To this day I'm not sure who it was that grabbed the other's hand first–or if it was simply something the two of us had done at the same time unconsciously–but what I did know was how happy I was to have her hand in mine.

I can recall sitting in the sand box or on the swings while Courtney and I grabbed each other's hands, as if it meant nothing. It was natural to want to touch her and be close to her. She was my best friend, after all.

Not all of the adults around us–Courtney's parents, namely–agreed with this simple view on the physical bonds of our friendship, however. They were convinced we were spending a little too much time together and getting a little too close for anyone's comfort. Not long later all the hand holding between Courtney and I stopped.

There were times when we were alone, studying or watching TV, and our hands would creep toward each other–as if we unconsciously missed the other's touch–but we never held hands like we used to.

When we were in seventh grade, Courtney got cast as the lead in Romeo and Juliet. I wasn't big on being in the spotlight, but I signed up to do backstage stuff and ran lines with Courtney to make sure she'd be ready to steal the stage.

Which was all fine and great except that Courtney had never kissed anyone before–neither of us had–and no matter how much we practiced lines and prepared, she was still nervous about that big moment. The one everyone remembers about Romeo and Juliet.

When it came to my personal preference, I knew that I didn't want to kiss any boys. I had plenty of friends that were boys and I just couldn't look at them that way. The way I was supposed to look at boys.

The way that I looked at Courtney.

There had been plenty of days where silly fantasies took over my head and I would wonder what it would be like to kiss Courtney. Whenever I had those dreams I'd feel something deep in my belly that was hot and scary, causing me to shut the idea down as quickly as it surfaced. Courtney was my best friend, after all, and I wasn't supposed to have weird thoughts like that about her.

But when Courtney asked if it would be okay if she tried kissing me–so she wouldn't look like an idiot when she kissed her Romeo, Anthony Merritti–I jumped at the opportunity. It wasn't very honorable of me to take advantage of the situation, but at the age of twelve, the last thing on my mind was honor.

I can still recall that moment with perfect clarity. The way that Courtney hovered above my lips with nervous puffs of air huffing from her nose before she closed the distance so slowly that I forgot how to breathe. Her lips were soft and they lingered against mine a lot longer than I would have ever guessed they would on that first press.

Courtney tried kissing me twice more without ever leaving that intimate space between our lips. Never pressing too hard, simply testing what it felt like to push and slide her lips against mine. All the while I laid there in a dazed state as I let Courtney experiment with me until she pulled away with a satisfied hum.

We never really talked about that moment, and for some time I thought it meant nothing to Courtney. After the closing act of the play, however, she showed me how little I knew by pulling me behind the curtains, into an empty corner backstage, and kissing the life out of me.

Once Courtney had broken away from my lips, as breathless as she had made me, she hugged me and thanked me for being such a good friend. Telling me that she could always rely on me, no matter what. I gripped her tight in my arms and assured her that I would always be there for her, no matter what she needed from me.

So, when our senior year of highschool rolled around and Courtney told me that she was thinking about sleeping with her boyfriend, Jeremy, but she needed some help building her confidence, I was the first to volunteer my time and energy.

We hadn't held hands since we were kids. We hadn't kissed since the play in seventh grade. But on the verge of adulthood, I found myself with my hand down my best friend's pants in the backseat of my car.

I tried not to think about how badly I wanted to kiss Courtney while I watched her face contort in pleasure, but I resisted the urge and simply watched. Soaking in every moment that I knew would sink behind me as soon as it was gone–like every other stepping stone in this relationship that had forced me to fall as deeply in love with Courtney as I was.

There was a sense of ache I felt when Courtney sat up after her orgasm and proclaimed that she was ready to tackle Jeremy in the bedroom now, but I shrugged it off with a smile.

I wasn't Courtney's girlfriend or even her lover. Beyond being her best friend, I had no claim on her. She didn't belong to me in any way.

All I could do was be there when she needed me while I loved her from afar. And while I knew that this would never be enough to truly fill me, I hoped it would sustain me enough to stay by her side forever.