A drop shaded crimson rolled over the curve of his knee, leaving in its wake a thin, red line down his shin. He held in tears that would bely his strength and bravery, holding together his 11-year old emotions.
"Should I go get Esme?" I asked Edward, crouching down to get a better look.
He instantly cringed back. Edward was constantly disgusted by my fascination with blood; he couldn't understand it given his squeamish nature.
"No," he ground out. "I'll be fine. Just need a band-aid."
With a slight limp, he walked beside me as we wound our way through the clumped trees behind my house. Emerging from the forest, he bent down, grabbed a leaf and quickly swiped at his knee before throwing it behind us. A smear of red coated his leg.
Underneath my kitchen sink sat the three first-aid kits I was well acquainted with. Not because I was clumsy by nature, but because Edward was.
Edward was my very best friend in the world, and being also my neighbor granted us plenty of time together...thus the need for not one, but three first-aid kits that would not normally be in the Swan household.
Once his knee was clean and bandaged, we went back outside. In the time it took to "doctor" Edward back to health, the sky had turned a sapphire shot through with cobalt clouds, pinpointed by millions of tiny, shimmering diamonds.
"It's so pretty," I whispered.
"You're such a girl," Edward snarked at me.
I snorted. "Says the crybaby."
He was quiet after that, but held my hand as we lay on our backs and looked at the sky.
"Bella," he said after a while.
My head lolled to the right. "Yeah?"
"Do you think we'll always be best friends?" He wondered, a pinch between his furrowed eyebrows.
"Well, duh," I answered. "Why would we ever stop?"
"I don't know," he muttered, looking back up at the sleepy sky. "We're starting middle school in a week."
I squeezed the hand that was entwined with mine. "Always, Edward. I promise."
He smiled at me just before his mother's voice rang out his back door. "Dinner time!"
We both stood, dusting off grass and dirt from our jeans. Our hands came together and we did the secret handshake we'd come up with in third grade. While running over to his house, only a stone's throw away, he turned back and shouted, "Love you!"
I smiled. "Love you back!"
That memory was always my go-to when reminiscing my friendship with Edward. And it was no exception when I was seeing him five years later, having not spoken in three, wondering when the hell he'd gotten so damn hot.