Chapter One

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"Because," Katrina muttered, "I love him." Her eyes were still red and her face was streaked with tears. I bit my lip, trying to keep from being a bad friend. I looked out the window and watched the rain roll off of the glass. She sniffled and I wanted to reach over and slap her until she realized what he was doing to her. 

"I hate him," I groaned, "he's such scum." 

"You're just mad because he's hurt me so much," she said, "you don't mean it."

"You just admitted he's hurt you, more than once. I think you have a fear of being alone." 

"I don't," she said, "I have you." 

"Always." I said, "Now, wipe those tears. I think we should find a party to invite ourselves too."

"No," she whispered, "I'm not in the mood Cadence."  

"Suit yourself, but I'm going." She looked me over trying to determine if I were serious or not. I was, completely. She determined that for herself and dabbed her eyes and looked into the mirror. 

"I look like hell, you can't be serious." She groaned and I grinned. 

"I am," I said, "buckle and put some concealer on your bags. Everybody looks like hell after shots." She groaned and did as I said and I realized how opposite we were, my best friend and I. She was short, and blonde with piercing blue eyes and tan skin. I was pale, with dark eyes and black hair. She was flawless and innocent. I was pierced, and covered in tattoos. She was light, and I was dark. 

"Don't you have any good CD's?" She asked, digging through the pile. I raised an eyebrow as she shifted through my metal CD's. 

"Those are all good ones." I said and she rolled her eyes. 

"You know what I meant." I didn't. I never did, but I nodded; pretending girls weren't hard to understand. I whipped the car around quickly and pulled into the McDonalds drive through. She shot me a warning glance and I shrugged. 

"I've got to eat," I said, "want anything?"

"You know I'm watching my figure and counting calories." 

"Well," I said, "I'm not, and frankly, don't care about your calorie count." She looked offended and I smiled sweetly as I placed both of our usual orders. I paid, and scanned the card. The cashier tried to flirt with me, and shamelessly, I blew him off. 

"You're impolite." Katrina said under her breath. 

"You always come around," I said, "it can't be that bad." 

"It is," she said, "I never know why I come back." The words stung, but I pretended I didn't care. Why the words stung? I left out a tiny detail when I described the polar opposites between my best friend and I. I'm a lesbian, and she's straight. I'm also head over heels in love with her, and she'll never know it. 

"Eat something," I tossed the bag into her lap and took a sip of my coke. I decided it was plain the way it was, "hand me the bag?" I asked. She looked at the McDonalds bag and then realized I meant my purse. I poured straight rum into my drink and shook it. I tried a sip and nodded, "better." 

"You can't drink and drive." She whispered harshly. 

"Well, you're without a license, so I have to, eh?" She turned her head and looked out the window. She occasionally ate and that was good enough for me. I said nothing, just let her pout. My rum was settling hard in my stomach and I tried to concentrate on finding a party. I drove down the roads slowly until I found one. I pulled into the driveway and Cat turned on me, eyes wide. 

"We have to leave! Now!" She yelled. I studied her, she looked serious. I put the car in park and faced her. 

"Why, on earth, would I do that?" 

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