Mitchie's POV

I'm sitting at my usual bench at the mall, watching people pass me by. The set of benches is which mine is a part of is located in between mall wings, the designer clothing wing and the randomly-bunched-together-stores wing.

I love this little spot of mine. I come here a lot, just to sit and think and look about. Many an inspiration for a song came to me right here on this chair. Yes, by the way, I write songs. And sing. And play a few instruments as well.

What are most noticeable, well to me, about the mall-goers today are the women's footwear. I must've counted at least five women, older ones, wearing similarly designed rubber sandals that kinda looked like Crocs but weren't, 'cause they had sparkly sequins on top. They looked really comfy without apparently appearing to be rubber sandals.

Hey look, there's another lady. (Aw, what a cute baby!) And another one! This one's wearing a black pair now.

Yet another mommy with her family's passed me who was wearing a pair in white. I start to smile. Feels like this whole thing's a big collaboration of a joke, but it's not. Haha. I've got to get me on of those ingenious shoes. Maybe I'll start the younger generation trend. Or have they been trending already?

I'll bet Alex, my best friend of... well, geez, forever, knows what brand those are. She knows stuff like that.

Ugh, that girl. The reason—the real reason, I'm sitting here to be alone. I'm in one of my "I-need-a-break-from-my-super-strength-status" moods. Perpetual devotion isn't always so easy to hide, you know. In fact it's never easy, which is why I always have to be super strong. Well, duh, yeah I'm in love with her. That girl owns me. I swear she does. She asks for my kidneys, I'll give 'em to her. That much. I've loved her ever since I knew what love felt like. I loved her when we were little, in every possible way, I just didn't know that was it. The feeling kept growing, and so did I and my knowledge of the world, and so now, I know I love her. I love her. A whole damn lot. I'm also painfully aware of the fact that I am never going to be capable of loving anyone else like I love her. And I don't think I want to.

Does she love me back? Well, sure, she does. But—ding ding ding! Yes, smart people, ya'll are right—like a sister. Now, everybody sigh with me. And, just like in all the other cliché chick flick story lines that have ever been written, what comes after this revelation? Ding ding ding again! That is correct! She's got a boyfriend! A bunny look-a-like, brown haired, I-melt-you-with-my-eyes-and-my-soulful-little-voice (yes, little, he's 17, barely out of puberty completion), pitiful excuse for a boyfriend. He and Alex met at a music competition I joined. Yeah, I know, imagine the pain. Is'okay, I'm still here, aren't I? Oh, and I won that competition. He came in second. Insert smirk here.

Oh yes, the pain. The pain I never got around to befriending. Now, ladies and gentlemen, what comes after a) protagonist is in love with best friend and b) bestfriend has boyfriend? Ding ding ding for the jackpot win, KHUURRRECT! For best friend is clueless.

I can hear aww's coming. Thanks for the sympathy, guys. Prize I get for allowing you into my thoughts, right?

Here's the thing, though. Alex has been… odd lately—looking at me a bit longer than usual, taking extra effort to call me adorable nicknames, buying me stuff. I'm being paranoid, I guess, but what if she's on to something? What if she knows, and she thinks I don't know that she knows but I do? Sorta?

Ya'll still with me? Good.

It would be such a beautiful moment to see the look on her face when I tell her I know that she knows. Hah! But she'd tell me she loves me too, as long as I have, it just took her this long to realize. And then she begs for my forgiveness, I say some cheesy line, then I'd finally be happy making her happier. Happily ever after.

Oh my goodness, really? Another woman in those sandals?

"They're Fitflops," says a curly haired brunette, with skin as white as snow, brown eyes that eternally shine and the most enticing smile. "The makers claim that wearing them while walking will give you longer-looking legs, a smaller butt, improved core muscles and better shock absorption for your joints. Quite a trend, aren't they?"

"No wonder. Stylish too," I look up at her, and said eyes melt my heart, as if they never have before. She's handing me an ice cream cone. Yes! Vanilla. I take it and eat right away. "How come I don't know that? And how come you always know what I'm thinking? And why do you keep buying me stuff recently?" I ask in between licks.

"You don't know that because… you're Mitchie and you don't really bother informing yourself about fashion. I always know what you're thinking because… you're Mitchie and I just do. I've been buying you stuff recently because… you're Mitchie, and I want to. Enough said." She then takes a seat next to me, tucking her left leg under the other.

Giggling a bit, I greet her. "Hey, A." She smiles a little at me while she starts off her own ice cream. "Hi, sweetheart." I wish she'd stop calling me that. The level of longing content in my system cranks up a notch every time. Doesn't she know what it means?... Fine, to me, and only to me, does it mean any more. Cue inside frown.

"I thought you'd be the Biebs today?" I inquire. "I was. Then I broke up with him," she says, blankly.

Pretty girl I worship say what?

"Riiiight. Thought I would fall for that did you? Haha to you." I say with an eye roll, and tongue stuck out for good measure. So… why hasn't her expression changed? "No, seriously, Mitch. I did." She's looking at me now. Oh joy! I mean oh no. Oh crap. Uh oh. I knew it! Gulp.

"W-Why?" I manage. She looks away, though still blankly. "I dunno. He's just such a…" Moron? Jerk? Dimwit? "…kid." Oh. I thought… Yeah, I thought. Whew. I should really quit thinking.

"Oh," I say out loud. "But isn't that what I told you—"

"Yes, mommy, I know what you told me. Now we're over like you said we'd be. You were right, yet again. Now please, enjoy your cone and be quiet." I'm sorry, but I grin. "Ahh, so that's why you've been buying me stuff; you felt it coming!"

"No, Michelle, it's not."

"I know it isn't, but I was in the position, you see."

"Yeah, yeah. Now shush."

She always says I could be the sweetest girl on the planet, which is why she calls me sweetheart. Having said that, I then ask, "Are you okay, though? Wanna talk about it?" She swallows, then replies, "I'm fine, M. I wasn't that much into it, to be honest. I'm kinda sad, he's sweet and all, but I'm okay, really. I'm relieved actually." There's a pause, then she continues, "Am I mean?"

"You are most definitely not!" I cry. "He got to date a college girl. Let that alone, he got to date you! You gave him the time of day! For what, five months? He should be immensely grateful." I tap her cheek. She taps mine back. "Wanna know something?"

"Do I?" I ask back after chewing the last of my cone and sucking my fingers clean. "Wait, do you have sanitizer?"

"After you suck 'em? Weirdo!" But she reaches into her sling pouch and produces a tiny bottle of Midnight Pomegranate scented sanitizer. She drops some into my open palm. "God, I love this stuff. Smells so sexy," I say while rubbing my hands together in front of my nose. I see her watching me amusedly from the corner of my eye. "I love you," says Alex with one of those lazy, breathtaking smiles of hers.

I face her completely with a toothy smile. "I know."

I know.