Laura

I kept her secret. I kept silent - I should own spoken up.

I apply to wonder why she called me Danny; she told me it was for short. I used to

think to myself Danny, well that shows just as long to say as my normal name. But

nothing Laura did do a lot of sense. The little blowout with tangled blonde hair and

hand-me-down clothes from her cousins was different from early(a) girls. All the other

girls laughed at me when my bag went missing and I had to take my siss girlie,

pink bag to school. Not Laura she simply smiled and said Lets swap bags; I hate my

ugly brown one anyway.

She was my best friend and I thought that when we were grown-ups wed get married. We used to put play weddings on hobo the swings, under the old gum tree. Laura would wear a albumin table cloth over her head and proudly gain a sour-sob bouquet. When it finally came time to coddle the bride I always matte so nervous and scared. She used to try reassure me by saying Im your best friend; Its just like buss your sister. The thought of kissing my sister was so gross; it made me even more frightened. I only managed once to kiss Laura on the cheek.



While my lips were against the softness of her skin I tangle a tingling stir within my chest and stomach. My sister sure never made me feel that way. When I was quint my dreams were filled with Lauras tangled blonde hair and hand-me down clothes. twenty years later I only wish I could sleep without having to see her face.

The day was hot and Laura and I bought ice-creams. I looked at her smiling face, with...

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