I laughed as I watched her twirl. My beautiful mess of a best friend, so herself, so unapologetic. Two more weeks and we’d be on opposite sides of the country- Lily at art school in New York, myself at Stanford. Everything I’ve ever wanted, right?

Two weeks and we’d be out of this tiny, midwestern town; Amazingly, impossibly, we were finally getting out. Lily would be making cool, artsy friends who appreciated things like black coffee and lighting.

“Come on, Kate, dance with me!” she said, pulling me off her couch. So we did. We danced to the music of the rain against the windows and the silence of impending separation.

Finally, we collapsed on the floor, high on dancing and laughter. After a moment, we merged into a rare, awkward silence.

“Two weeks… and then what?” I asked softly. Tentatively. I never knew what she would blow up at me about.

“I don’t know, Kate,” she murmured. She looked at me with her blue eyes sad. “Just promise you won’t forget me for all the smart kids, okay?”