From childhood best friends to soulmates, you and Karina spend years hiding your feelings until fate finally gives you the courage to choose each other.
The first time you met Karina, you were seven years old. It was the middle of summer, and your parents had dragged you to a neighborhood barbecue filled with adults talking about things you didn't care about.
You had spent most of the afternoon sitting alone on a swing, kicking your feet against the dirt and wishing you were at home playing video games.
Then someone stole your swing.
A girl around your age had casually sat down on the swing next to yours and immediately started swinging higher than anyone else.
Her long dark hair flew behind her as she laughed.
"You're doing it wrong."
You frowned.
"What?"
"Swinging."
"There isn't a wrong way to swing."
"There is."
"No, there isn't."
"There is."
You stared at each other.
Neither willing to back down.
Finally, she jumped off the swing and landed perfectly.
"I'm Karina."
You blinked.
"Okay?"
She crossed her arms.
"Aren't you supposed to tell me your name now?"
"Oh."
You quickly introduced yourself.
Karina nodded.
Then smiled.
And somehow, just like that, you became friends. Nobody expected the friendship to last kids made friends all the time.
Most drifted apart after a few months. But somehow, you and Karina never did.
When you were eight, you built blanket forts together.
When you were nine, you raced bicycles around the neighborhood.
When you were ten, you spent entire summers playing outside until your parents yelled at you to come home.
If someone saw one of you, the other wasn't far away.
Your parents found it amusing.
Karina's parents found it even funnier.
They often joked that you two were attached at the hip.
At the time, neither of you cared.
You were simply best friends.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Middle school changed things.
At least for you.
Not immediately.
Not all at once.
Just little things.
Tiny moments that seemed insignificant at first. Like noticing how pretty her smile was when she laughed or realizing that you remembered every little thing she told you.
The way she liked her drinks.
Her favorite songs.
The movies she watched over and over again.
The tiny scar near her wrist from falling off her bike when she was younger.
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