I throw another tissue into the garbage can as Dakota walks back into the room.

“Who was on the phone?”I ask between sniffs.

“Faith,” she says flatly with hate, like she really was pissed.

“Oh,” I say, “What did she say?”

“Nothing. I might just be your neighbor, and like, never really hang out with you but within this time that I am hanging with you, I feel for you. Faith is a brat who doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. She is very, very selfish and you are too good for her,” She says. It’s true, I barely talk to her and now I’m spilling my gust to her, and for some reason, I agreed with what she was saying.

“Maybe,”I say, remembering something. The vision was clear.

“I’ll beat you up!” I yell,pissed at what happened after Faith spilled her lemonade on my shirt.
“Uh…”Faith says as she turns and runs.

But, for some reason, one I didn’t know at that moment, I never did.I guess I loved Faith even at that age. And, no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I can’t stop.