They were kid-friends before they were anything. From five to ten, they were self-proclaimed "adventure partners" and knew their corner of L.A. better than anyone. They had a base on the big rock at the park, they one that was flat on top for sitting (or running, or rolling), but she had a treehouse too just in case some other kids took their spot. They met every day, heat or cold, even on those rare days when the sky was dark and the clouds dumped warm, sloppy raindrops on them, soaking them in moments. Those were always the best days, because she was already soaked and didn't care about getting dirty anymore, so they would trek through the gloppiest mud and climb the tallest trees until they reached the end of the world and watched the sunset dye the clouds sherbet orange and coral.

But then they grew up and she dyed her pretty brown hair black and electric blue, and he wasn't sure he knew her anymore. So they grew up and apart and went to different schools, and every now and then his mom would ask with a tiny note of sad, How's Jade these days? and he wouldn't know.

And soon it was high school and they saw each other again and wow, she'd gotten so pretty. They had awkward hi's and passing waves, and they only kind of knew each other, the way people kind of do, but it was so wrong that they decided not to do it anymore, and she let him back in. It was slow, like everything with her, but he didn't mind, because she was funny, stupidly funny, like him, and they could be stupidly funny together. They saw each other after school, went to the park and sat on the big rocks like the kids they still really were. And one of those days, he was staring again, and she finally demanded why and he admitted that he'd never expected her to get so pretty. Of course, by law of the Park Rock, she was then granted permission to tackle him to the ground until she had him pinned and their noses were almost touching, and then he kissed her for no real reason.

So they were together, perfect and glowing, even if sometimes he forgot and winked at other girls. When that happened, he'd hold her and apologize until he was blue and she would crawl out of her hurt shell and let him kiss her. He loved kissing her, it was so addictive.

But they kept growing up and sometimes they forgot their friendship, and those were always the worst fights. She'd scream and sob and pull things from the walls, and he would just sit there like a stupid rock and say nothing. Then she'd leave and he wouldn't go after her, even though he deep down knew she wanted him to.

One day, she made it perfectly clear, but he still didn't, and he lost her for it.

So then they had nothing, because they'd long since forgotten how to be friends and he'd never loved her anyway. Not since they were five and all love tasted the same, like warm summer rain.

He let them be nothing for a while, even though it hurt more then the time she'd smacked his head into the Park Rock. At least that time, she'd kissed the hurt away and bought him an icecream that really looked nothing like Spongebob and had melted so fast, leaving them both sticky and sweet and happier then anything. Everyone had always admired his lack of fear when it came to her, but how could he be scared of someone he'd known his whole life? He had seen her as a sex goddess, gorgeous and sultry without trying, sure, but he'd also seen her as a muddy five-year-old, sobbing because rain had gotten in her clear gray-blue eyes.

Each of those memories alone hurt more than all her missing warmth and love put together.

On one of those days of big wet raindrops, he'd walked to her house (which wasn't saying much because just it was down the dead-end street they'd both always lived on), soaked wet to the soul, and pulled her outside into the treehouse. They'd sat there, silent and saturated with their favorite summer rain, until he said sorry and she did too.

Then on, they were both more careful. They kissed every waking moment, but he was always sure to give her those big floppy bear hugs, too, and noogies and playful whacks on the head. For her part, she stayed out of her hurt shell and bought him icecreams and even let him throw her in the mud every now and then.

It rained that whole summer long.