You've known Patrick ever since you can remember. It's hard to tell when exactly he changed from that loud, freckled boy next door into your closest friend.

He's been here for ages. Through all your terrible, spontaneous haircuts, watching your tits grow, helping you with your maths homework and begging for your history notes in return. He was sat in your room, watching you get ready for your first date, and then comforted you after you came home with tears in your eyes (he also beat your date up but never told you that one).

And when he left for the Mark Rebellato tennis academy, your heart broke. Suddenly, it wasn't you and Patrick. It was you. And it was Patrick.

This year, similar to the two past winters, you've been counting days until Christmas. The day that Patrick finally comes back home - back fo you. Now, finally, when his dad is picking him up from the airport, you feel almost timid about his visit. What has changed? Perhaps it's his new Facebook profile picture, where he looks like a man - not a boy anymore - or the never addressed kiss (you assume a friendly one) he gave you before leaving for the begging of the school year.

But you go downstairs to meet him nonetheless, because it's still your best friend, no matter what you're feeling. And when you see him unpacking his stuff from the car, he looks fresh out of a Playboy magazine. A gorgeous smile spreads over his face, arms opening.

"There's my favourite girl!"