She told me not to call you. Not to call her.
Not to speak about it at all.
Well, heh. I guess I'm breaking that rule. Luckily, no one will know it's me. No one at school reads a real story. No one would understand me anyways.
Even with the nickname Freckle, no one would put the pieces together. No one knows me.
There was a time when me and you went to the mall. I doubt you remember. We were eight, and we had saved enough money from our stupid lemonade stand from the summer. We went to some store, and that's when you changed first. You found a band t-shirt and I looked at the cool show-themed backpacks.
You had gotten a Nirvana sweater and I got a black and green frog backpack.
You kept going to that store, usually every other week. Usually bringing me along.
Eventually though, I saved enough money to buy that show-themed backpack you told me to get. I bought a pack of button pins. I still remember, one was Kurt Cobain, and the other was Ozzy Osbourne.
I had given you the Ozzy one because it made me nervous. It's now pinned to my shoelaces along with the beaded bracelet you gave me when we were ten. You had gotten it from that same store, I'm sure of it. It said "Kurt Cobain" on it in those cursive letters I was obsessed with at the time.
God, do you remember this?