AN: This chapter is a bit shorter than the last few have been. I'll make it up to you with the next one, it'll be extra long! R & R, please!

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February 14, 1986

"So how's the chocolate?" I pushed of the ground with my feet, causing the swing I was sitting on to move a meager six inches back and forth.

April held the little heart shaped box in her lap, leaning left to right and causing her swing to move side to side about the same distance mine was. "Good. How're the hearts?"

I looked down at the little plastic bag in my hand, reached in, grabbed one, and ate it. "Chalky and bland." A hand struck my shoulder. "Ow!"

"Shut up, they're your favorite and you know it!" I glared at her, knowing full well that she was right.

"Yeah, yeah. By the way, happy Singles Awareness Day."

"Oh, stop being such a pessimist! Happy Valentine's Day."

I looked at my knees, which were so close to my chest I felt any minute I could stumble and knock the wind out of myself. "When did all this shit get so small?"

April looked down at her own feet. "When we got too old to have recess. All swings in the area made a pact to shrink cause we weren't supposed to use them anymore."

I chuckled. The ice broken somewhat, I approached the topic that had really been on my mind the last few weeks. "Have you finished moving your stuff into your dad's place yet?"

She nodded. "Yeah, everything except a few books and some clothes. And John and Mom aren't talking anymore. But if she's gonna be bringing guys like him home, Dad and I don't trust her anymore. At least I don't have to worry about running into him when I go to pick everything up."

I sighed. April had been the girl down the street all my life, but now..."I can't believe you're moving." I frowned and put on my best puppy dog eyes.

"Don't give me that look. I have to do it and you know that. Besides, it's only a ten minute drive."

"Yeah, you're right. So...how are your scars?" I had convinced my parents to let me keep a phone in my room so April could call me whenever she needed to. There was at least one night every week where we'd be talking for more than five hours just so I could calm her down. Half the time we hung up we were both too tired to keep ourselves awake anymore, the other half because the sun had come up and we had to get to school. At this point in time, she had not taken a razor to her skin with the intention of self harm for about three months.

"Well, aside from that one" she rolled up her pant leg and indicated to a small cut on her calf "which really is from shaving" and I knew I could believe her "...they're a lot better than before. Some of them only show up when I'm showering."

"You think they'll be gone by June?" I smiled hopefully and twiddled my fingers.

"They might be. But some of the worse ones might never go away. Why?" She returned my smile, but with an air of confusion.

"Well..." June meant only two things to seniors. One of them was graduation, finally getting out of the social hellhole of high school. The other..."It's just something to take into consideration when you pick out a dress..." I glanced down at my hands for a split second, then looked back up at her. "For when I take you to the prom."

She flashed a beautiful grin at me. "Well, I'd better get shopping then."