#Chapter 63 My First Friend

I’ve known Ann Hastings the longest. She is a small spitfire, a fighter, and I’ve envied her a lot throughout my life. She is tougher than anyone other girl I’ve ever met, so seeing her in worried shambles makes my heart hurt. She is anxiously rattling her leg as we sit on the porch steps, the stars splattered all over the dark sky overhead.

We point out shooting stars as we wait, as though it will make things better. As if mindless wishes on stars will make a damn difference in this situation. We want everyone to be okay, we want everyone to be safe, and afterwards we will settle into this new normal. Whatever this new normal may come out to be.

“When did life get so difficult?” Ann asks, speaking to the moon above like a star will fall into our laps with an answer tied to it.

“When I found my mate,” I mutter. “Or I should say, he found me.”

She glances over to me for a moment, as if examining me, and I feel on display. “You rejected him, right?”

I only nod.

“And he hasn’t accepted i