"Where's Mrs. B?" I asked. "Mom's sleeping over at Tita Mimi's place today. Here, drink this. Be careful, it's hot." "Thanks." I blew on the lemon ginger tea, took a tentative sip. It felt good to cry, but my eyes were sore, my throat too. Actually, my whole face hurt. "I added honey," she said. "Good?" "Barely passable." "Bish." She glanced up at me from where she was crouched in front of the fridge, holding a bag of marshmallows. She liked eating them chilled. I could see that their fridge was still full. It would kill me, but later when I could really accept that she was leaving and could talk more comfortably about it, I'd offer to clean and anything else in their house that needed it, help them get it ready for sale. Shit. It hurt to think about it. "You get sewage water next time." I blew out a breath. Seeing her crouched on the fridge like this, rummaging for food to feed me was an all too familiar scene and it cracked my heart in two to know that it would never happen again. The tears threatened to gush out once more. "Damnit. The waterworks are at it again." I looked up, sniffed long and hard, desperately trying not to cry. "If you cry, I cry too. Kar." She rose, walked to the opposite side of the counter from me. "Am I forgiven?" I swallowed the lump in my throat. I really hated crying, but a tear slipped out when I saw the look on her face. She looked so hopeful, so happy that I came. I wanted to hug her again. I wanted to calm down so I could comfort Tala and not be a mess like I was now. I needed to pull back a little so she and I could talk. "I forgive you, you forgive me, I forgive everybody!" I teased, trying to lighten the heavy air. "Who are you, Oprah? Okay, deal. Want to light up the fire pit and marshmallow?" We'd freeze our asses off, but what the hell, it could be the last night I'd spend with her here, so I agreed. Armed with a thick blanket, our hot cup of teas, popcorn, and marshmallows to roast, we stepped into the backyard. "This is nice," I said quietly after we'd set up everything. There was something irresistible about staring into the fire. It nudged you to sit down beside it, let it warm you up, mesmerize you to stop thinking, and just be. Tala took the chair beside me. We shared the thick blanket between us and huddled close together. We were both quiet. It was dark. The light from the streetlamps pierced through the branches of the trees and landed on the garden. It was cold but not windy, and that made everything perfect sitting beside my best friend by the warmth of the fire. "I thought I was going to live here forever," Tala said after a long moment. "I thought we'd grow old together, be one of them old ladies who went shopping, gossiping and walking at the mall." I smiled, picturing it. "Yeah. We'd go racing on our rollators, partying and hollering like big, bad, old but classy bishes." "We'd cut our hair short and get a perm." "I don't know about you but I'm keeping my long hair. We can go backpacking in Spain. It's the perfect time. We'd get senior discounts." "Hell yeah! And stare at Spaniard men all day and night. Don't you think they're all so sexy? Eventually, I'll marry someone named Mateo. Isn't Mateo such a romantic name?" We grinned at each other. "Never had a friend like you before, Kar." I felt my face fall. Because the truth was what we talked about was never going to happen. She was leaving soon. And sure, we could visit each other, but it was never going to be the same. Once she leaves, it would be the end. Not the end of us, but a part of us. I'd never get to just drop by to see her and hang out and do nothing, never get to walk the same roads or know the same faces, never be there when she finally meets her first boyfriend, Would she have new friends there who would see how awesome she was? Would she be happy? Would she replace me? I knew tonight was a form of goodbye and it filled me with misery. "You know how I am," she continued. "I tend to keep to myself and I'm not comfortable with people, but I know how to make friends. Being nice will get you friends. Doing favors for other people will get you friends. And I think I'm good at both." She looked up at me, unsure. "Right?" "Yeah, you're really popular. Taylor Swift has nothing on you." "She wants to be my friend too." "Damn, how'd you do it? When I grow up, I want to be like you." "Right? I'm goals." She held onto her cup, unconsciously rubbing her thumb on the handle as she looked into the fire. "But I'm not good at expressing myself. Not like you. Sometimes I'd force myself to be nice because I want them to like me." She looked embarrassed. "I'd do favors for them. And they'd think I'm going out of my way for them, but the truth is...I'd only do it if I like doing it or if it's convenient for me or if I'm bored. I'd do it because I don't want them to dislike me." I studied her face for a moment, waited for her to look up, but she didn't. "Yep, you're a real piece of work. I don't know why I'm friends with you," I teased, wanting her to look at me. She finally met my gaze and laughed, threw a piece of popcorn at my cheek, but I couldn't read the look in her eyes. "I'm being serious here." "Then let me be serious too. If I'm dying of thirst and someone offers me a glass of water, do you think the kindness being offered to me would mean less because of the reasons you just told me? What matters to me is that you've eased my burden. That you have no ill intentions. We're all just trying to live, trying to figure all this out. It's not like you ask them to pay you back. Wait, did you?" "Yeah. I asked them for a baby unicorn that can drive me to work. And a boyfriend." "Next time ask for two and give me one. The unicorn, not the boyfriend." I sighed when she didn't respond. "Why are you bringing this up? I don't know why you're being so hard on yourself. You are the nicest person I've ever met." She shook her head. "You don't even know how special you are. Do you?" I placed my tea on the raised stone wall of the firepit, leaned against my chair and looked at her. I had no idea why she was saying these things suddenly, but I knew Tala preferred fun conversations. And even when we talked about important things, she'd insert a joke here and there. But she was serious now. The look in her eyes, the tone of her voice. So I stayed silent and waited for her to continue.