My eyes glance back down at where the top of Kirsten's blouse is unbuttoned, and I quickly look away. I hold my eyes closed for a moment and tell myself that I have to stop doing this. She's my best friend.

"So what else you think we can put in this?" she asks, tossing the notebook on my bed. She gets up and stretches slowly, yawning. Again I force myself to look away, but not before taking another quick glance. I can never stop myself, and I'm glad that she never seems to notice. And really, why would she? There's nothing weird about friends looking at each another. She has no reason to suspect that anything has changed.

"I don't know," I say, flipping the pages of our report. "This is mostly good enough. We can finish it tomorrow."

"Good, 'cause I'm exhausted. We better get a good mark on this or I'm gonna kick somebody's ass." It's funny how she talks so tough when we're together, but when we're at school it's me who does all the shit talking. It's almost like I protect her, even though she doesn't really need any protecting. It's just a role we fell into, a part she lets me play. It didn't used to feel this way, I used to feel like we were equals, on even ground like really good friends should be. It's only recently that I've felt differently, and it's really starting to affect me... Some days I can barely think straight, and I'm sure she must be noticing it on some level.

"Hey, you want a milkshake?" she asks, and my eyes find themselves watching her cutoff jeans as she leaves my room. As soon as she's gone I fall back on my bed and close my eyes for a moment, resting. Everything's so much simpler when she's not in sight.

After a few moments I follow her into the kitchen, and everything feels better. Now that we're out of my bedroom I can get my head back on track. I think it has to do with association, since that's where I had my first dream about her. Not really the first one, but the first one that seems important, the one that's been stuck in my head all month.

She's standing at the blender, waiting for her concoction to mix. I take a seat on a stool next to the island in the center of the kitchen. That's one thing my mother insisted on when we built this house – it had to have a huge kitchen. I look around and smile; Kirsten and I have spent a lot of time here, cooking food, eating cookies, watching tv. Watching her at the blender is beautifully familiar, though she's not usually making something as innocuous as milkshakes. I take a deep breath, and for a moment it really seems like everything's back to normal. Things are just like they've always been, the way I want them to be. No tension, no conflict, just friends being together. It's so easy. This is how I want us to stay.

She pours the milkshake into two large glasses and brings them over, sitting down next to me. She takes a long drink, licking the milkshake from her top lip, and I do the same. "This is good," I tell her. "What's in it?"

"I tossed in a banana, for some flavor."

"No, something else."

She grins. "Oh, that. I brought that from home."

I smile as I take another sip. I don't officially drink, but with the amount of alcohol she manages to slip into most of the things she mixes I'm pretty far from straight edge. We sit in silence for a few minutes, making our way through our milkshakes. We don't have to talk all the time, we don't have to communicate, we're comfortable with each other, and this is what I value. We're more comfortable together than we are with anyone else. This is better than any romantic relationship, this is better than any love affair, this is better than holding hands, this is better than sex. This is reliable, this is pure contentment... I don't have to play any games around her, I don't have to be the hard ass I am at school, I can just be myself. I don't understand why my mind would be pushing me for something else, and with my best friend... A sigh escapes my lips. I'm sure this is just a phase. It'll pass.

She takes her glass from her lips and looks at me. "Something wrong?"

"No. I was just thinking about how we've gotta do that fifteen minute run in gym class on Monday."

"I know, fuck... I have no idea how I'm going to do it. The five minute runs almost kill me. I seriously think Clugston just likes watching us suffer." She swings her glass back to finish the milkshake and I happen to glance over just as some of it pours from the side of the glass and rolls slowly down her chest, disappearing between her breasts.

"Shit..." she mutters, peering down her blouse as she pulls at it slightly. "I'm filthy anyway, so I'm gonna take a shower."

"Alright." I watch her go and say, "I think I'm just gonna head to bed."

"Okay!" she calls behind her, and I hear the bathroom door shut. There are a few moments of silence where she must be taking off her clothes, and then I hear the water of the shower start. I rinse out the blender and go to my room, not turning on the light. I've gotten into a habit of wearing pajamas lately, but today I can't be bothered. I pull off my pants and leave on my t-shirt and boxers as I climb into bed.

Before I had the dream about her, the only reason I didn't like having Kirsten around sometimes was that I almost always masturbate before I go to sleep, and I could never do that when she was here. As grievances go it's a pretty small one, but now it's a lot worse. Now it's not just that she might catch me, it's that I always end up thinking of her... But it seems so unnatural, because besides her I don't think of girls. My fantasies all involve male/female sex, and now a girl has started showing up in them. So I hold my arms between my knees and promise not to touch myself. Just wait and it'll pass, and eventually I'll fall asleep.

The way I'm holding my arms causes them to press against my breasts, and that reminds me of another side of the problem. None of this would be overly awkward, none of this would be a problem if I didn't have breasts. If my chest were flat, if I had a penis instead of a vagina, everything would be normal. Why wouldn't I be in love with Kirsten? She's beautiful, she's funny, I can hang around with her for hours and never be bored. If I were a boy we could hold hands and go on dates and really, things wouldn't be all that different, except that she'd accept me on a level that she can't now. I'm a girl and she's a girl, and what made it easier for us to become friends makes it impossible for us to cross any other barriers.

Not only do I have breasts, I think as I shift a little, but mine are bigger than hers. Just forget about it, go to sleep. Don't think about it...

A few minutes later I hear the water of the shower turn off, and a minute after that she comes through the door, leaving the light off. In the darkness I can just barely make out that she's wearing a towel, and as I stare, trying to scrutinize her through the darkness, she drops the towel and climbs into the spare bed. For a brief second I can see her naked silhouette, I can see the point of her nipple, and I instantly slam my eyes shut. She spends a moment getting comfortable before laying still, and in the quietness of the room all I can hear is blood pumping from my heart to my temples. I don't think I can fall asleep.

I get out of bed and stretch slowly, yawning, then glance over at the spare bed where she's sleeping. Under the sheets, she's naked right now. I walk around to the other side of the bed and kneel down, looking at her. In all the time I've known her, how often have I really looked closely at her face? Maybe never. Friends look at each other, they glance between one another all the time, but they don't really watch one another... not closely. That's something that lovers do, they study the other person's features, they know exactly how the pieces connect, how everything is shaped. They know the exact color of the other person's eyes... I know that her eyes are green, but only because I've been paying attention lately. I didn't know before, but now it seems important. Right now I'm kneeling beside her bed, looking at her, and I never would have done this before. I'm looking at her eyelids and wishing that they'd open, wishing she'd see me and smile at me... I feel so good whenever she smiles at me, and she always smiles at me, because we're best friends. No matter what bad things happen to her, no matter how disappointed she is with everyone else, she's always happy to see me.

I reach up and brush a bit of hair from her face, and the slight contact shocks me a little, reminding me that I should be careful not to wake her up. Or maybe that's what I should do, just wake her up and let her deal with my weirdness, let her deal with the fact that I've been staring at her, find out for sure exactly what she'd do about it. We let each other stretch pretty far, we accept pretty much any strangeness we can throw at each other, but I don't think she could accept this. She'd tolerate it, maybe, but she'd probably drift away, we'd slip apart, we wouldn't be best friends anymore, and I'm not going to let that happen. I'm going to get myself together and stop this right now. I stand up to leave the room, but not before my eyes move across her neck and down to where her shoulder peeks out of the top of the sheets. I give my head one quick shake as I turn and head to the kitchen. I don't even know what time it is. She could be asleep for hours.

I end up dozing off in a chair in the living room, and when I wake up it's a little after eleven. I check on Kirsten and she's still sleeping. I know that if I don't wake her up she'll stay in bed all day, but I hesitate for a moment while I stand over her. I reach down and put a hand on her bare shoulder, and despite myself I still feel a small spark when our skins touch, but I try to ignore it. "Hey," I say, shaking her gently. "Time to wake up."

Her brow furrows and she rolls away a little, but manages to open her eyes. "Yeah, I'm up," she says, squinting. I leave again to give her a minute to get dressed, and when she comes out she's wearing one of my shirts and a pair of my jeans; she might even be wearing a pair of my underwear. I close my eyes and lean against the wall, banging my head lightly against it. "What?" she asks, and I glance over to see her looking at me quizzically.

I smile at her. "Nothing."