when dreams come true

chapter 2 || a back-story

-!!!EDITED CHAPTER!!! -

feel free to point out grammatical errors.

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"Okay, but imagine if he would have kissed you. That would've meant you got your first kiss inside a dream! Dang, you missed it!"

"Heather, if you make one more deduction or suggest another missed opportunity, I will not hesitate to strangle you," I told my best friend calmly.

"You say that everyday, but you wouldn't dream of ever doing it. Omg, get it? Dream, of doing it? And you just had a dream-"

"Heath, stop talking. I told you we'd talk more after school. Right now, you're only managing to embarrass us both."

"Yeah, okay. After school, call me as soon as you're home. Then we can fantasise freely over your Prince Charming, and how you met him in your bed... sleeping..."

"Heather!"

"Kidding!"

Heather Lynn and I met about 9 years ago. Which makes about a decade, which means we've known each other for a heck of a long time. Although we share a lot of interests - like our mutual obsession with feline creatures - we are quite different in tastes as well as appearance. But somehow, we click, and while we had our fallouts every now and then, we managed to stay together and pull through. All in all, we're kind of inseparable. Even if we found a guy we'd want to spend every waking hour with, I know we'd give up every heated moment just to help each other. Although in Heather's case, it can sometimes be questionable.

You see, Heather's a beautiful girl. Drop-dead gorgeous, dazzling, and simply stunning. All the synonyms under the word, you'll deem them perfectly appropriate for Heather. She has the sexy slim body and legs that go on for days; the shiny, long brown hair; the pretty face and the right money. But what is it that stops the entire male population from running after her?

Her absolutely crazy personality.

I'm a witness of the moments when hundreds of boys have come up to her and asked her out, only to be flanked by her almost cynical responses. Here's an example:

*****

(A summer morning at a fair)

Interested Boy: (casually walks up) Hey, gorgeous. Can I get you a drink?

Heather: And what drink will it be?

Interested Boy: Any flavour you want, babe. Although, I can think of one you'd especially like. (cue wink)

Heather: The one you're suggesting is probably tasteless and might give me herpes. Not two minutes into the conversation and it's apparent you would not give a shit about my health and well-doing. So what am I going to get out of a possible relationship like this?

Confused Boy: Uhh... wait, herpes? I don't have herpes!

A very Amused Me: You might end up in a hospital, Heath. (smirking)

Heather: That's right. Or even six feet underground. So, associating with you is probably going to be my cause of death. Which brings me to the conclusion that avoiding you henceforth will be in my favour. Good day, hope to never see you again. Or maybe I might, you know, when I feel like dying.

Irritated Boy: I was only offering you a drink, Jesus Christ-

Heather: Well, I want you to know I'm a perfectly happy person and don't feel like passing away anytime soon. So I refuse your deathly offer.