I Do Until I Don't

Chapter 22

Sabrina better die after me because I will die of sadness if she dies before. No, but really, how people live their lives with no best friend surpasses me.

For example, best friends tell each other things. Things the other person isn't supposed to know and then the other friend has to act surprised if the person in question tells them the same exact thing. Example: "What? No, Alex, I didn't know you flirted with a police officer because you thought she liked you. Oh-em-gee! That's so funny! What? How come? Sabrina totally did not tell me that! What a shock!"

I'd cover a body for Sabrina. Well, no, that's creepy. I'd lie to the cops if Sabrina ever did kill someone.

Not that she would.

Not that I'd tell you if she did.

During the school year, we call each other every other night to talk as we do our homework; we don't go to the same school. That's why I'm not scared of losing touch once we head out to college: we've always had a long-distance relationship. Screenplay major in Yale for her and Boston college for me. A little further away than twenty minutes in car, but still.

But now we do have the possibility of hanging out together so we do as much as possible.

"Strike a pose!" Sabrina orders, taking out her camera. I make a goofy face in front of a palm tree, and she snaps a picture and sends it to me.

Sabrina likes taking pictures of everything and looking at them when she has nothing to do. Since we never see each other, we don't have many pictures together so, when we do see each other, we take as much as we can to compensate for lost time.

"Oh! Here! The lighting is wonderful."

I stick out my tongue, and she takes another picture.

"My turn," I say.

Sabrina gives me her phone and smiles her gorgeous smile, and I take a picture. Her beautiful curls are more pronounced by the salt water, and her round, brown eyes shine like gems.

We continue strolling on the boardwalk, which is lit by all these tourists gift shops and restaurants. I am looking around as Sabrina is recording our walk and the jokes we make about the kids biking and the couples dancing on the sand.

"Hey, Sabro? Did you make popcorn? Because it's corny up in here."

Sabrina sighs and rolls her eyes, but she is clearly fighting the urge to smile.

"Don't become a comedian," she recommends me.

"Hey! It was funny."

"Three out of ten."

I bump into her elbow, and we laugh.

"But really," Sabrina starts, hooking her arm under mine, "I don't think it's corny. I think it's sweet. What I would give to be in one of those adorable couples where everything is still magical at eighty."

I look at our feet in sync with each other.

"Do you believe you'll find your soulmate one day?" I ask.

Sabrina doesn't answer right away. "I don't know about believe, but I know about hope."

I smile. If there is one person who is more a dreamer than I am, it's Sabrina.

"If I have children," she continues, "I don't ever want them to wonder if my husband and I love each other. Not once."

"You'll have that," I assure her. If one person deserves a happily ever after, it's her. "You haven't seen thousands of movies to not have your own happily ever after."