You know you’re close friends with someone when you wake up to find your father and your friend talking over breakfast and it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Rachie has basically become a part of the family by now.

She gets up as soon as she sees me, startling dad. Her half-eaten toast is already forgotten on her plate and she rushes toward me. She’s already dynamic and has perfect hair, a cute effortless dress and a genuine smile despite it being so early in the morning. I have no idea how she manages to do that everyday, and so far it sadly hasn't rubbed off on me even a bit.

She’s chirping about our day as I try not to fall back asleep over a cup of black coffee with some sarcastic quote on it. I only had to heat up some coffee mom made this morning before going to work, and this took a lot of efforts out of me. If I’m completely honest, I have absolutely no idea what Rachie’s saying.

I grab her toast and finish it under my dad’s discouraged glances as Rachie heads straight to my room to pick an outfit for me. She's downstairs already and I still haven't made it down the first step. It’s way too early for this but at least today she didn’t wake me up. My dad laughs softly and I give him a mean glare that only makes him laugh louder before he turns his attention back to the newspaper in front of him. He hides behind the paper, but I know he's still looking at me.

I head to my room only to find Rachie making a mess in my drawers. I intended to wear something comfortable, but I’m quick to notice Rachie’s got other plans. What was I even expecting? Biquette comes next to me on my bed, allowing me some moral support throughout the makeover. I hold her until Rachie finally decides on something for me to try on.

I get up from my bed so that she can spread my clothes on it, and Biquette jumps down with me, still searching for my affection.

I manage to talk my friend out of making me wear a dress, but she still picks my clothes against my will. I think she always shows me a dress she brought with her first so that I'll feel like we compromised when she settles on something else. Obviously, everything and anything is way better than a skirt.

She then waits for me to get dressed, complaining that I’m taking forever without me even being done taking off my pajamas. Once I finally have put on some clothes, she takes care of my curls, complaining once again that she’s jealous of my short natural hair because of how easy it is to make it look good. I point out that she could also have short hair, but she doesn't want to hear it. She pouts and says that, no matter what, her baby thin hair needs care.

As she pulls me toward the door, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I've no choice but to accept that she did a great job. My short hair allows the thin gold hoop earrings, a bit bigger than the ones I usually wear, to get your attention. I’m wearing a simple top with cuffed sleeves, rolled up jeans and a black belt as a finishing touch; still me but with a bit more style than usual.

She doesn't even ask for my opinion as she knows, no matter which face I may pull, no matter how much I don't want to admit it, that I like it. I still complain a bit as she drags me outside, but it only makes her smile. At least she let me wear my usual comfortable shoes.

"You really should let me pierce your nose", she exclaims, fiddling with her own piercing. She laughs at my reaction before unlocking the doors of her mom's old car. She doesn’t have to ask for me to take the passenger seat without questioning her. I have no idea what she plans on doing today but I still follow her anyway.

I know that, deep down, she knows I'll always follow her no matter where she's going.

She pulls the car out of the driveway and at that very instant I feel like my summer truly begins. It simply feels right to be sitting next to her as we play old boy bands songs to which we know all the lyrics by heart. None of us really likes it anymore but it’s always been this way. We sing without caring about our sore throats, she lets the wind mess her hair up and complains that mine remains flawless even with the window all the way down.

And moments like these are the one thing I never want to let go of.

***

Rachie turns the volume of the music down a bit. Loud enough that she has to scream over it, low enough that I can hear her. She starts explaining this theory on how cute a girl she talked to from her class and I would be together, and all I can think about is that she's at it again. Inventing fake relationships to talk about to compensate for my actual lack of romantic life. “I swear you two would've been perfect!" For a second she looks at me instead of the road and I fear a little for my life, but she keeps on driving as if her current excitement wasn't dangerous at all. "But she's taken", I say. She shushes me, pouting slightly as I make her realise that Sylvia isn't an option for me. "Let me dream a bit, will you?"

It annoys me but I let it go; it’s not worth getting into a fight. I used to think it was fun when we were still in high school, but now it’s getting heavy. To be completely honest, it makes me feel like shit cause it reminds me of my actual state.

Rachie catches my change of mood, but when I get like this she knows I don’t wanna talk about it. She looks at me for a brief second, turns the volume up a bit and starts singing (screaming) along. I burst into laughter and join her, because anything is better than my current spiral of thoughts.

She smiles at me and the world shifts all around. The sun is brighter, the music sounds better. When she turns her attention back in front of her, I’m surprised to find myself back in the car with her even if I was 'gone' for only a few seconds.