“I cannot believe that you are doing this,” my best friend, Charlotte says as I fold a clean napkin and put it in my backpack. A half-assed smile that barely reaches my eyes is all I can give her in response then I turn away from her to pick up my water bottle. We are on opposite sides of the island in my kitchen, and the room is, unfortunately, not big enough to keep me far from all the judgment and worry radiating off Charlotte.“Cathy, honey, you cannot climb up that mountain,” she says with a dry chuckle. “It’s extremely dangerous.”For a few weeks now, I have been preparing to achieve a personal goal of climbing the semi-tall mountain in our town and reaching its peak, and my best friend could not be more livid about it. She tried to scold me into backing out, then she threatened to call my mom and I still did not budge. When I told her I’d taken the week off work to do this and to recuperate after, she must have sensed that I meant business and would not be talked out of it, esp
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