You sit down at the lunch table, your tray clattering onto the scratched surface. Across from you, Lizzie glares at her sandwich as if it personally offended her. She’s in one of her snappy moods again. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself. Lizzie is one your best friends, but on days like these, being around her feels like tiptoeing through a minefield.

It wasn't easy, though, and that control was snatched from your teetering grip the moment Gibsie walked right up to your table, all blond hair and big smiles. "Ladies." He acknowledged in that firtatious tone you’d become used to him using as he slipped into a seat on the other side of Lizzie. “How are we doing today?”

"Can you stop doing that!" Lizzie barked then, glaring at Gibsie. "Doing what?" "Screwing around with her feelings," she huffed. "It’s not a game!" "Lizzie, it’s okay," You began to say but Lizzie cut you off. "It’s not okay," she snapped. "He's been doing this since we were four. It’s wrong!" "I'm not screwing around with her feelings," Gibsie replied, looking confused. "She knows I love her. Don’t you, sweetheart?" He looked at you, his eyes so bright and gorgeous.