Adelaide Beck dared Tristan Presley to become her best friend in the fifth grade... and he said okay.
After a summer of doing nearly everything together, Tristan suddenly becomes distant with her. Adelaide had always guessed that natural causes had...
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I nodded my head. "Okay, then I have one very important question," and I think I stopped breathing before I asked, "are you a street fighter?"
"No." He said sincerely and I let my breath out in relief.
"I'm an underground fighter."
"Oh what the fuck."
"Look I only came here because I had nowhere else to go. Tate's out of town, I usually crash at his place if it goes bad. If I go home like this my aunt Sofie would have a heart attack."
"You're about to give me a heart attack."
He looked at me for a second, "does it really surprise you?"
"No." I said honestly. "How long have you been involved with all of this?"
"Too long," he almost whispered and then continued, "my dad's been training me since I was a kid Ada, but I didn't start actually start fighting in the ring until a year ago."
"Why a year ago?"
"Things changed." He said vaguely.
I glared at him, "you say that too much."
"I'm just not ready to talk about that yet." he replied quietly after a moment.
"Okay, that's fair," and it was, because he already shared something that was a big part of him, "but Tristan I want you to know that you can talk to me... about anything. I'll always be here to listen."
"Just like when we were kids." He said thoughtfully.
"Just like that." I confirmed, and I meant it whole heartedly.
"Anyway, you can take my bed tonight, i'll set up on the floor.
"No." Grumpy Tristan has entered the chat.
"Tristan you can't just tell me no. You're injured, you need a comfortable nights rest. Take my bed."
"No," he repeated, "I'll be fine on the floor. I just need extra blankets and a pillow."
I huffed in annoyance but he wouldn't let me argue it. He refused to let me sleep on the floor.
I got up and brought him three blankets, two thick ones to stack on top of each other for a mattress and the third for him to keep warm. I set it up on the floor and dropped a pillow to complete his bed for the night.
Then I looked at my pillow on my bed and back at his pillow on the floor. And then I decided to switch them out because mine was fluffier.
I did not react to his accusatory face and thankfully he didn't say anything. If he wasn't going to let me give him my bed, he can at least take my favorite pillow.
I went over to the vanity chair and helped him out of his seat, placing his arm back over my shoulders. He grunted and moved heavy, using me as a crutch. Then when we got to his temporary bed, I accidentally dropped him.
