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Short Story - It's Still a Friendship

            I sit comfortably in the passenger seat of her car, leaning my head against the headrest, breathing in the permeating scent of coffee and hot chocolate. Placing my backpack on my lap, I grip the left strap tightly within my hand while my other hand is occupied with a Wimpy hot chocolate. Facing forward, head turned towards the window, I begin to tune into the sound of her voice. She's prattling on about her netball trials that she had the other day, telling me the details in a rapid manner. "I've never played so well before," she tells me, having yet to take a breath from her long explanation. Her eyes are green but when I look into them I see colors that don't even exist. "Coach sat us down after the game and announced that I made it into the next round." The excitement laced within her tone reminds me of a child on Christmas day, a child who wants to recount a moment that took their breath away.
             I take a sip of my hot chocolate, letting the rich and smooth texture sooth my taste buds with the heavenly taste of chocolate. It's lukewarm, chilled from the time I spent I had spent outside with her, yet it's a taste that floods a peculiar feeling into my veins and warms my body with a tingling sensation. My eyes remain locked on her face, catching the beaming smiles she naturally flashes in the midst of her storytelling. When she flashes me that radiant smile, my chest suddenly feels fitful, almost unnerved. I nearly crush the cup in my hand, silently mulling over this strange feeling. The feeling has always been there. Every time I'm in her presence, this feeling hides in the depths of my chest, locked away by my heart. Through the reflection of the rear view mirror she catches my eye and sends me a smile that I can barely return.
             I draw in a sharp breath, daring to steal a glance at her. She looks back at me before I realize it, eyes brimming with mirth and tenderness.

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