I took a long shower at home. I let the warm water stream through my mass of hair and over my tired body. I had to wash the sweat from the game off of me. I had to wash the entire week off of me. I listened to nothing but the sound of water pouding against ceramic, and tried to wash away my thoughts as well.

The mirror was coated in steam when I stepped out of the shower. I leaned against the counter, naked, and wiped it away with my hand. I pondered for a moment the amount of time I spent looking in a mirror each day. I spent an hour alone in front of my mirror each morning, and of course I checked myself everytime I walked into a bathroom. I also had my compact, the miniature mirror I kept with me at all times. I was very familiar with the countours and features of my face. Now, as I stood before my bathroom mirror, I saw myself without anything to hide me. No make-up, no hair products, no clothes even. Just water and skin.

I smelled like vanilla soap and pearberry shampoo. Besides being beautiful, girls should also smell nice. That's one of the things that makes us so enchanting and feminine. I wouldn't dare go anywhere without a squirt of scented spray. It's one of my more useful tools. I love the look on boys' faces when I come near them. They seem absolutely amazed that a girl can possess such a tasty smell. It's some great mystery to them. Clearly, boys don't know much about smelling nice.

I put on pink cotton pants and a black tank top. I towel-dried my hair, feeling to lazy to blow-dry it. When I went back into my bedroom, Claire was sprawled out on my bed in her pajamas, flipping through Seventeen. I flopped down beside her and laid in the comfort of my pillows and blankets.

"You look tired," Claire commented. She licked the tip of her finger and turned the page.

I turned on my side and nestled my face into a rose-print pillow. "I feel tired."

Claire set down the magazine and laid down beside me. "So," she said, tryring to give the conversation a more upbeat vibe. "How did it feel to go to the bathroom with Penny?"

As I thought about it, I realized how silly that question sounded. If someone else had been listening to us talk and had heard that question, they probably would have thought we were retarded. But the two of us understood what it meant when a girl asked another girl to go to the bathroom. It was a mark of friendship and trust. The fact that Penny had shown that kind of friendship to me was a fairly big deal. Other people wouldn't have paid any attention to it all, but Claire had read the signs verbatim. That's why she was my best friend; we were on exactly the same brain frequency.

I turned onto my other side, so I could see Claire. I grinned at her. "It was totally awesome," I said. I couldn't tell her the exact conversation. Even though she was my best friend, Claire would be immensely jealous to know that Penny had as good as taken me as her apprentice. I wasn't about to dish the details, but I could give her the general idea of it. "She talked to me just like I was on her level or something. Things are totally going to start looking up for me."

Claire pouted a bit. "You're so lucky."

"Oh, don't pout. If things get good for me, they get good for you. You're my partner-in-crime. That's how it works."

She brightened a bit. "Ah, yes. Too true."

Ever since late in the seventh grade, Claire had always been a sort of pet to me. I was the mastermind, and Claire was my cronie. She followed my commands and made my plans into realities. In turn, I took care of her. It had once been the other way around. Claire had been the leader, and I had been her follower. We both competed to be cheerleading captain. I dislocated my shoulder, and she took full advantage of the opportunity to kick me off the team. Who else came to my rescue but Lizzie McGuire? She helped me to work around my injury, making me still an eligible cheerleader. Ironically enough, Claire injured her arm as well. She didn't have any Lizzie to help her out, so I became captain. I could have tossed her aside just as she had done to me, but I didn't. It falls under another one of my rules: Never owe anyone anything. I accepted Claire, even though she'd lost her position as head cheerleader, and we remained friends. But things were different now. She was in my debt. It had been proven that I was the stronger of the two of us, and it has been that way ever since.

It's sad, I suppose, that our friendship grew out of some childish fuss, but that's life. You take it as it comes to you.

I yawned and realized I was exhausted. I pulled down the blankets and got underneath them, feeling snug and content.

"Kate," whined Claire. "You're not going to bed already, are you? Let's do something fun."

"This is fun," I told her. "Sleep is extremely fun."

She starting slapping my shoulder softly. "Come on, Kate. Don't go to bed yet."

I sighed impatiently. "You can stay up if you want to. Go hang out with Amy."

Claire snorted. "No thanks."

"Well, then quit bitching and let me go to sleep."

"Whatever." Claire admitted defeat, and got under the covers on the opposite side of the bed.

* * * *

The first thing I heard when I woke up the next morning was the sound of a boy's voice screaming, "Dog pile!" Claire and I immediately started shrieking when an unidentified male bellyflopped on top of us. He flung his arms madly in the air and made screeching noises like Godzilla.

"Ethan?" I asked sleepily as I struggled to gain composure.

He laughed madly, as if it were the most hysterical thing ever, and snuggled up beside me underneath the covers. He gave me a peck on the cheek and said, "Wake up, sleepy head. It's two in the afternoon."

"You are vile," hissed Claire. She angrily flopped on her other side, leaving her back towards Ethan and I.

Ethan looked as if he wanted to say something back to her, but he couldn't form words. I'm not sure he knew what "vile" actually meant, so he didn't really how to react. Instead he turned his attention to me. "Hey, baby. Wazzup?"

"What's up is you just woke me from a peaceful sleep," I told him. I meant for it to be a cold remark, but it came out soft. I was too tired to pull off the frigid ice queen routine.

"Aw, G, you can't be sleeping in this late. There's, like, a whole world out there to experience."

"Thanks for the sentiment, Buddah." I rolled onto my back and looked up at Ethan. Chin-length sandy brown hair fell into his face as he hovered over me like a puppy desperate for attention. Ethan was exactly the type of boyfriend someone like me required. He was popular, sexy to boot, and of course, he had nothing but unconditional affection for me. Fragile creatures such as myself need men who are always ready to fall at our feet. He was far from being bright, but I didn't see that as a downside. On the contrary, it made it all the easier to control him when nessecary. We had a sweet little arrangement going on, from which we both benefitted.

As I stared up at Ethan's face and examined his eyes and gentle mouth, I felt mild satisfaction in knowing that he was mine. It was a sensation I hadn't felt much lately. We had been together for months, and the novelty of having Ethan Craft as a boyfriend had long since worn away. Throughout middle school I had been such an avid seeker of Ethan's attention. I stopped at nothing until I had him. Did I ever really like him? I wondered to myself. I couldn't help but admit to myself that my desire for Ethan was more social than romantic. I wanted him because he was the "it" boy; I persued him because he was the one nobody else seemed able to catch. I was always showing off like that.

I wouldn't trade Ethan for the world. He was my best accessory. He gave my image the exact flare that it needed without suffocating it. He could be a bother at times, but he wasn't hard to tend to for the most part. He was like a pet. That was the perfect way to describe my affections for Ethan. You love your pets, but at the same time, you don't LOVE them. As much as I enjoyed having Ethan around, I still couldn't honestly say that I had feelings for him. The more I thought about it, I couldn't think of a single person I truly had feelings for. I didn't have time to take that sort of interest in anyone. I could see through them, I could use them, I could be admired by them, but I couldn't bring myself to love anyone like that. To lose myself in those kind of emotions would only cause disaster in the end.

Ethan startled me with a kiss. My thoughts were tucked away for later as I kissed him back and pretended to be delighted. In truth, Ethan's kisses were another one of many things that had lost meaning to me. Claire, who had been huffing distinctly on the other half of the bed, seemed unable to contain herself once Ethan and I started kissing. She rolled out of bed and marched with annoyance out of the bedroom, casting a discreet, jealous glare at Ethan and me.

How awful it is when one gets such great satisfaction from making their best friend green with envy.