Page 4 of Before We're More Than Friends
I hope you think of me whenever you wear this.
“I will,” I whispered to the bracelet, even though I knew Chloe couldn’t hear me all the way from here.
Houston popped his head up to give me a funny look before resting it on the floor again.
I read Chloe’s letter before deciding I wanted to do something kind back. I searched my room for something I could make for her. Nothing. I had a few colored pencils to draw with, but the best I could do with those was give her a page from a coloring book. Outside of that, I didn’t have an artistic bone in my body.
That afternoon, I asked my parents to order me a bracelet kit. I found one online that had the same black star Chloe had put in my bracelet. It took me several tries to get the bracelet right, but I ended up with a duplicate of my own, only with purple beads instead of blue ones. Smiling, I wrote a note to put in the envelope with the bracelet.
I hope you think of me whenever you wear this like I’ll always think of you when I wear mine.
CHAPTER 2
Raina
SIX YEARS AGO
Dear Chloe V,
Hey! It’s really nice to meet you.It’s honestly hilarious that you think you’re lame. Wait, that sounds very mean. You get what I’m trying to say, right?First thing, I relate to you on a spiritual level in several departments. I don’t think we’ll have a problem getting along at all. Also, please
“Raina!”
I took out one of my earphones and moaned.
“Raina!” my twin sister, Arielle, shouted again, practically kicking down the door like a cop. The girl had no idea what knocking was and didn’t seem to care about how crazy it drove me.
“I heard you the first time!” I yelled, my blood boiling.
“You didn’treplythe first time.”
I huffed. “Where’s the fire?”
She dodged my sarcasm. “You’re supposed to be ready for your appointment.”
“But it’s not time—” I glanced at the whitedigital clock on my nightstand. Shoot, it was 3:36 p.m. My appointment was at four on the dot. “Crap.”
“You have four minutes. Hurry up.” She slammed the door, and I heard her footsteps bounce down the stairs. Even our dog had quieter footsteps.
I rolled my eyes. She was just annoyed that she couldn’t be left home alone because both our parents were coming.
This school year, my fear of accidents had heightened to lengths that drove me crazy. The smallest things set me on edge, causing me to check things over and over again. If someone had been cooking before we left the house, I’d ask four times if the stove was off. Always four times. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get rid of the repetitive thoughts.
I didn’t understand why my family got upset when I got so panicked over stuff like that. Plenty of people had constant thoughts of something bad happening, right? The other specialists I’d gone to had been wrong about me before—what made this one any different?
I put on black leggings, tossed a book into my purse to read in the car, and went downstairs to where my family was waiting.
“We were about to pull you out of your room and throw you into the car,” Mom said with a smile.
“Wouldn’t that be kidnapping?” I asked.
Dad chuckled. “Not if it’s your own child.”
“I respectfully disagree.”
“I’ll pull you guys out of here and into the car if we don’t leave now,” Arielle said, jumping up and down as if we were waiting in line for a Disney ride.
All three of us rolled our eyes. Maybe this girl needed an appointment to deal with her hyperactivity. But I knew it was just her personality, just like my issues were part of mine. No “specialist” could disagree.
