I kept her secret. I kept silent - I should have spoken up.
I used to wonder why she called me Danny; she told me it was for short. I used to
think to myself 'Danny, well that takes just as long to say as my normal name.' But
nothing Laura did made a lot of sense. The little tomboy with tangled blonde hair and
hand-me-down clothes from her cousins was different from other girls. All the other
girls laughed at me when my bag went missing and I had to take my sister's 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 we'd get married. We used to put 'play weddings' on behind the swings, under the old gum tree.
Laura would wear a white table cloth over her head and proudly hold a sour-sob bouquet. When it finally came time to 'kiss the bride' I always felt so nervous and scared. She used to try reassure me by saying "I'm your best friend; It's just like kissing 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 felt a tingling stir within my chest and stomach. My sister sure never made me feel that way. When I was five my dreams were filled with Laura's 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...