If you could have picked anyone to hear you right then you're not sure it would be her. And that seems foreign to you because she was your family when your real family left.
"I think my Mom is dead." You whisper to Princess Sparkle and her big, febrile eyes understand your fears. They do not confirm them but you know she's thinking the same thing. Deep down in her little horsey heart. But when you look up and find Coop's careful blue eyes staring back at you, you're not sure what to do.
"I'm sure she's not, Sum." She placates. She's about to sit next to you when she quickly heads to the bathroom – pouring the contents of the two cups she'd been holding down the sink and fetching two plain sodas. Minus the vodka.
You have been alone with Princess Sparkle for several minutes now but she doesn't seem to have any further insight into your statement.
When Coop returns you take you Mountain Dew and edge over so that she can sit beside you one the floor – the bed behind your backs. The silence is thick and foul as you both stare straight ahead, Coop occasionally taking sips from her can as you just cradle yours in your lap.
"Maybe it would just be better if she was dead," you declare to the wall in front of you, "then she would have an excuse for having like nothing to do with me."
Coop keeps her gaze fixed on her can but her fingers slide out towards yours and she takes your hand gently because no matter how self involved she has become in the past year she is still your best friend, and despite what Cohen thinks she still knows you better than anyone else.
"Maybe she is," Coop murmurs, "or maybe she has amnesia."
You smile because it has been a long time since you and Coop made a list of all he places your Mom could have gone and why she was taking so long about getting back. Amnesia was always your favourite because it seemed so possible – that rather than forgetting you she had forgotten herself.
"I wish I had amnesia," you whisper back, clinging to her hand as your eyes bore into the wall, "then I wouldn't remember any of this."
"No you don't," she smiles, "then you wouldn't remember me, or which Jimmy Choos you already had. Not that you could ever have too many."
You turn to her smiling wobbly through the thick tears that scar your eyes and she runs her fingers through your hair and reminds you of home. Not of the house you live in.
She doesn't ask you why you aren't talking about this to Seth. She knows this is not a one-off drama he can fix (and if you told him, he'd want to) – this is an everyday pain that occasionally builds up and cracks the surface.
There is nothing strange or unusual about it.
She is still holding your hand as you lay your head in her small lap. Princess Sparkle watches on as if she wishes that her hooves were big enough to hug you with – but they are not and Coop is warm and comfort and you feel your estrangement clearly now.
And you realise that even though you have Cohen now – you want your best friend back. The pull in her eyes tells you the same and she leaves your head in her lap as she stretches over for the remote, flicking on the TV. Coop leans back, fingers untangling from yours to run through your hair as she sips her Mountain Dew and the companionable silence is broken only by the people on the screen whose problems are so much worse than yours.
You pick up Princess Sparkle, stroking her mane as you relax – wishing for amnesia or some kind of deus ex machina to bring your mother home and fix your broken friends.
