Berkley and Dean had been best friends since they were in diapers. They were so close they could finish each other's sentences and had never spent more than a week apart in their entire lives. They grew up together because their Dads were best frien...
Leaving home and going off to college is usually scary and nerve-wracking but for Berkley, the fact that Boston University was only 20 minutes from her house and the fact that her best friend Dean was going there with her made it not so scary, which was a good thing considering everything she had already been through in the last 6 months. The less stress the better.
She was currently sitting on her bedroom floor with the entire contents of her closet spread out in front of her in a huge pile, trying to decide what to take with her to college, what to donate to Goodwill and what to throw away.
She never realized how many clothes she had that she never wore until now. There was a pretty large pile of dresses with the tags still on them that her Mom had bought her, because she had been in complete denial that Berkley was a tomboy and not a girly girl.
Her Mom had fought with her every time she bought her a new dress and she refused to wear it, but that didn't stop her Mom from buying more. Looking back now, Berkley realized how much time she wasted back then arguing over insignificant shit that didn't matter. She had taken for granted that her Mom would always be there, but unfortunately, she learned the hard way that she was wrong. It's true what they say, you don't realize what you've got til it's gone.
Just thinking about her made her heart ache so she picked up the pile of dresses and squeezed them to her chest, closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh. She would give anything to give her Mom a hug and tell her how much she loved her just one more time.
"Hey you alright?" she heard a deep voice ask and she raised her head and opened her eyes to see her best friend Dean Bradshaw standing there, wearing his black leather jacket, his tall dominating frame taking up most of her doorway, running a hand through the dark brown hair that covered his forehead, looking at her with those midnight blue eyes that held so many memories for her.
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"Yeah," she said, giving him a weak smile and then taking a deep breath in and letting it out. "I just got hit with the feels. My Mom bought me these dresses."
Dean gave her a look of sympathy as he came in and sat down beside her. She got that look from people a lot these days.
"Please don't look at me like that," she said quietly, hanging her head.
"Like what?" he asked, scrunching his dark eyebrows and looking confused.
"Like everybody else does, like I'm some broken person that needs their pity. I don't even know why people do it because giving me that look doesn't make me feel better. It actually makes me feel like shit and reminds me that my Mom's gone and probably never coming back."
"Sorry B. I didn't even realize I was doing it," he said softly, rubbing her back and then pulling her closer so she'd lay her head down onto his shoulder.
"I know you didn't mean to, but I swear, if one more person looks at me like that and asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna scream."
After a minute of silence he asked, "Hey, did you umm, did you ever make an appointment with that therapist my Mom recommended?"
