Mum and Dad had kept a closer eye on us from that point on, the sleepovers had stopped not because they had specifically banned them but with the pull out bed that suddenly appeared in my room, coupled with the fact that there was a new found awkwardness between Bette and I, to be fair to her she had tentatively broached the subject  and I became an expert at avoidance and quickly changed the subject, after a few brushed off attempts she gave up, and we were left with stolen glances when we thought the other wasn’t looking.

We were still close, she was still my best friend, we still had no secrets, we still shared most things….except…….

Bette’s dates she had on weekends, those conversations usually ended after the who and the where and I was glad that they did….I just don’t want to know and she didn’t appear to want to tell.

After a few months even the who’s and the where’s stopped being part of our conversations but her absence on Friday and Saturday nights told me they where still very much part of her life.

I was still abstaining from the dating scene instead concentrating on my running and watching movies on those long weekend nights trying hard not to think of the who,  the where or the what….the what was happening on these dates that she was having.

Now…. well…. none of that mattered anymore, whatever had been awakened with that kiss and had stubbornly refused to go back to sleep would very soon become a part of my past, a past that I was no where near ready to let go of.  

I stop running to it was becoming more difficult to see through the tears, I wipe my eyes with my sleeve,  I look around and I must have been on running on auto pilot as I have ran to the far end of the park, an area I haven’t been too in some time, and area that has a small gazebo and a bench where Bette and I used to hide from that asshole of a brother.

I continue running towards the gazebo I could do with a rest before I make my way back home, as I get closer I can see the back of someone sitting on the bench, bloody hell someone is there, I am ready to turn round when I notice that the lone figure has long dark curly hair, the same dark curly hair that I used to twirl in my fingers when life was so much simpler, I slow the pace to a walk then stop as it hits me that she may not be alone I mean what would Bette be doing here on a Friday night alone, maybe I just can’t see the lucky guys head.  I feel sick,  I need to get away from here, I turn and I am about to run faster than a bat flies out of hell.