I missed Connie more than I would have thought possible. We were inseparable, a well-established fact by that time, but sometimes it would catch me off guard just how fundamentally entwined our lives were. I did nothing without her, rarely went a day without seeing her. Because there were moments that snuck up on me, time and time again, that would leave my mind reeling. Like when we would be sitting next to each other outside the gym, mitching class, with her head on my shoulder while I smoked—and I would wonder abruptly at how simple it would be to merely twist my own head around a few inches and press our lips together, so casually, so easily. Like a habit, nothing out of the ordinary routines of our lives. Or we would walk down by the beach after school and my hand would itch to reach
