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“Good. Angry is useful if you don’t let it drive you into her hands.” I drank the coffee even though it tasted like nothing. “She wants me reactive,” I said. “Every time I react, she gets content.” “Then don’t give her your face in a panic. Give Brenda room to work.” A customer came in. I stepped away and did my job. When I came back, Adrian was still there, scrolling through something on his phone with a frown. “What?” “Bella just posted a poll. ‘Do you believe Sophia left when she said she did?’”

I stared at the screen not paying it much attention. Instead, my mind was hyper-focused on what had just happened. Was I reading into this too much? Probably. Zack was a very loyal guy so it was probably just a friendly peck on the head. Yeah, that's what it was, a friendly kiss on the head given to me by my best and only friend. My best friend, damn my life. You can say that again.

#JUST_BEST_FRIENDS Author: Sam Freddy CHAPTER 37: KARMA STRIKES. — — — As a baker, Isioma had quite a lot of loyal customers in her school, simply because of the outstanding quality of her products and their affordability, and of course her exceptional marketing skills and her friendliness too. Today, she'd come to deliver a birthday cake to an evangelist's wife in the school's central church and she was heading out when she spotted someone kneeling before the altar, praying.

"Especially since Zam seems like your best friend. Remember that Ciara was your best friend before you two started dating. Do you think that's okay with her?" "It's okay," I replied to the two of them. "Who said that? Herself?" I nodded to Roy, "you know, the woman is kind of a problem. They always say that they're okay or fine, but the truth is that's not." "Like this for an instance, Shan," Mark replied, "She did become your best friend, right? Now that you and Ciara are dating, for example, Patrick becomes her instant best friend and then they were always together, how would you feel?"

Is this separation part of the bigger picture? Or am I too blind to see the reality that we just aren't meant to be? What's the best explanation for all this actually? Should I keep hoping? Or should I give up? Maybe I'm not good enough for him. Maybe she's a better match than me. But you know what? I'm not interested in being his girlfriend, I'm only interested in being his best friend. Does that make sense? Or am I just dreaming? Will I ever get my Bestie back?

“Honey, what happened to Aunt Grace and Jonathan?” Mark replied, “Jonathan couldn’t make it, he is the best man in his friend's wedding. Aunt Grace decided not to come.” Victoria nodded her head. Mark and Victoria were sitting on the sofa holding hands. She smiled at Mark, “I thank the Lord for allowing me to meet you, and you are the best thing that ever happened in my life. I never knew that God loved me this much. I pray that our love be filled with happiness and grow every day. I don’t have words to describe the way I feel about you; you are a breath of fresh air.”

Guess we're not going to have a conversation then. He takes off at a steady pace and I stay with him easily. Hank runs between us, his head swiveling from side to side as he looks from me to Quinn. After awhile, Hank pulls out in front of us and Quinn lets him take the lead. Hank is obviously very well trained, much better trained than the dog I had growing up. But Scooter was still my best friend.

That was the moment. By Monday, people moved out of my way in the halls. Teachers watched me like I was a loaded gun. Girls whispered. Guys stared. Jake Blaze. The bad boy. The fighter. The problem. And once the world decides who you are? Sometimes you stop trying to prove them wrong.

I’m not sure if it will work, but it’s all I got. I don’t think I would be able to give Tony up, if I allowed him in. I don’t want to hurt him, Sharon or get hurt myself, but I’m at a crossroads and I don’t know which way to turn. Sharon is my best friend who suggested I go down this path but we didn’t expect it would lead me to her own son.

Mia The day after I told Ava the truth, I couldn't get out of bed. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over. Her face when I said the words. The way her voice cracked when she said, "You're my best friend." The sound of her footsteps as she walked away from me in the hallway. I'd imagined this moment a hundred times. In my worst nightmares, she screamed at me, threw things, told me she wished I was dead. In my more hopeful fantasies, she cried, and I cried, and somehow, impossibly, she forgave me.