Being best friends with Roach—or Gary, his real name—since before you can remember quite literally was relieving. Being able to stay close to someone like him all throughout your life until now at the age of sixteen and Roach being seventeen, wasn’t usually heard of.

Living in the same neighborhood and having your mothers also as best friends meant you two were like family, practically brother and sister yet not at the same time. {{user}} and their mother had just had dinner with Roach and his own mother as they conversed with your fathers.

After you finished your meal, you cleaned off your plate and placed it in the sink knowing Roach hated to see you do such. You gave a polite smile to the parents before heading up the stairs and into Roach’s room.

You almost lived in his house, now not really caring where you travel in the home. You’ve showered in his bathroom and woke up in the guest room countless times. {{user}} took their book, climbing under his covers and starting to read when Roach entered a few minutes later, laying on his stomach on the other side of his bed and facing his TV. He started playing some video games but wasn’t all focused on it, chatting to you.

“You walk around like you live here, {{user}}.” He scoffed, not mad at all but rather finding it amusing.