You and Britt took walks.

It was a few weeks since your epiphany at the pool house, and you had been trying to regain control of the situation. If Brittany was not going to find out that your friends-with-benefits arrangement was driving you crazy because you only wanted the benefits, and to be the sole thing on the planet to make her happy, then you were going to have to work twice as hard at seeming half as interested.

Your head was a mess.

The walking started because you realized that both of your bedrooms had beds. Those warm, soft, comfortable beds that let you turn a homework session, or a movie screening into a make-out session and a movie ignoring. So, Britt suggested talking a walk. The walking let you regain a bit of composure around Brittany, being stationary around her made you itch to put your arms around her or kiss her neck, so instead you had been chewing your nails. You bit at them until there was no more to chew, and you were accumulating hangnails by the hour.

Your hands were a mess.

You usually walked around the lake at Schoonover Park, most of the lake had a paved sidewalk around it and the two of you would walk, no, stroll, down the path until it ended and then turn around and walk back. You talked about everything. Almost everything. On the weekends it was crowded, but you and Britt would walk almost every day. You started recognizing the people that would frequent the park on the weekdays, like the man in the striped polos that walked, what looked like, his girlfriend's dogs. At least, you both hoped they were his girlfriend's because those were two very frilly looking dogs. There was the older woman, who sat on the bench right at the edge of the lake. She wore a hat, most days, and would sit before you and Britt got there, and she would still be there as you were leaving. She clutched her patchwork tote in her wrinkled and worn hands and would stare at the lake. Sometimes, you noticed, she would move her gaze from the lake to the space next to her on the bench, and then she would place her hand on the empty space. You wondered who was supposed to be sitting beside her.

Today, Brittany was walking straight to where the path ended, and when the both of you reached it, you stopped and were about to turn, until Brittany grabbed hold of your hand.

"Not today," she said.

She kept walking onto the grass, and further around the lake. The trees were thicker here, with no path to cut into their growing; they intertwined their canopies and created patterns with their shadows on the overgrown grass. You looked up at the rustling leaves and the tall tree limbs, Brittany's hand still in yours. The shade was cool and the grass was damp, so you kicked off your sandals further ahead, so you could pick them up as you came to them. Brittany followed suit. You felt the grass and the dew and the earth between your toes, and you felt your heel sink into the soft muddy parts of the bank, but most of all you felt Brittany's hand in yours. You felt the way her fingertips wrapped around your knuckles; you felt the way her palm and your palm just, fit together. Suddenly, Brittany took two long strides forward, keeping her hand back, where you were; she turned slightly and tugged at your arm. You let her lead you in the motions and she spun you twice, catching you with her other arm and wrapping both of them around you. She swayed, her chin resting on your shoulder, both of you facing the shimmering lake. She swayed as if she could hear the music, and you closed your eyes because the moments like this were the ones that mattered. You were collecting them now, storing them away as part of the story of you and Brittany that you told yourself.

Still wrapped around you, Brittany led you closer to the bank and then bent her knees. Since you were both still attached, the lurch backward stiffened your shoulders and sent a pulse of panic down your spine.

"Whoa, it's OK," Brittany said, softly. "I got you, don't worry."

You settled into her body and she settled into the grass, you leaned your head back and wrapped her arms tighter around you. In sync, you both took a deep breath and let out a contented sigh. You both laughed, hard, at your synchronicity. Your eyes were closed and your head was bobbing up and down with Brittany's chest as she laughed.

"One day, we'll become separate people again, I promise," you said between laughs.

"I doubt it," she said, and you could practically hear the smile on her face.

You were silent again, and now the only thing moving your head was the soft rise and fall of Britt's breathing. You turned your head pressing your ear at her collarbone and you could hear her rhythmic heartbeat. You decided to test out a theory: that Britt wanted you as much as you wanted her. Keeping your ear on her chest you trailed your fingers, delicately, up and down her thighs, since you were sitting in between them. Her heartbeat remained steady. Your fingers traced the same paths one more time, then traced the insides of her thighs, from the backs of her knees to the place where her legs met your hips. You listened again. You smiled.

You looked up and behind you, hoping you'd be able to see a change of expression on Brittany's face, but instead you saw her head was thrown back and she was biting her lip mercilessly.

"Really?" you said.

"Every time," she said.

You made a mental note and rested your hands on her knees. You traced little circles on her kneecaps and took a deep breath through your nose, taking in the sweet scent of the lake's mist, the newly mowed grass along the bank and Britt's distinct magnolia perfume. You squinted you eyes and tried to look across the water. You could see a few figures walking along the path and the woman sitting on the bench, and you wondered whether she could see you, and whether she understood that Britt was the person that sat next to you on your own bench, until Brittany's voice dragged you away from your thoughts.

"I haven't been seeing anyone else."

For such a short phrase, this was a complicated sentence. Not only was Brittany saying that she had taken what the two of you had and turned it exclusive, but also she was letting you know, letting you know that this was akin to 'seeing someone.' This was huge. And this could potentially ruin all of your plans.

"Oh yeah?" you asked, trying to feign nonchalance. "How come?"

It was helpful that you two were facing the same way, because you could tell that your question had sent a twinge of pain through Brittany.

"Because of you."

You kept tracing little circles on her knees, but your heart was racing. This was it, you had been waiting for her to say something about the two of you, but for some reason you couldn't make yourself say anything back. Being with Brittany was amazing, but your feelings were so much deeper than a small, blip of a relationship so early in your high school career. You had trusted Brittany to keep the steady pace of this unlabeled relationship and ensure its longevity. But now, Brittany and you were the same, stuck in this uncharted realm of your relationship. She was the most important person in your life, and if you took the leap, if you let yourself and Brittany fall into this well of feelings and one of you didn't make it, it would ruin everything. But you wanted her so badly.

"Britt?" you said softly.

"Yeah?" she whispered, her lips met the side of your head and the warmth of her breath lingered in your hair.

"I don't think we should date."

"Oh…yeah. Yeah, OK."

You closed your eyes to try and hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes. The tone of her voice was enough to tear a hole in your heart.

"But I think we have to be more than friends," you said.

"I don't get it," she said. "You just said we shouldn't date, but what is being more than friends, if not dating?"

"It's just you and me being, you and me," you answered lamely. You paused for a few seconds. "Look, Britt, I don't know what's happening between us here, but I like it," you couldn't believe that these words were coming out of your mouth. "But I think that we should keep it between us, keep it private and special. Dating is mostly about what other people think, and we are just best friends. You're my best friend, Britt and I can't imagine losing you, but also I can't imagine not being able to kiss you," you were ranting now. "But I think we're going to have to stay in this strange, unlabeled, no-man's land of a relationship, OK? Because if I have you and then I lose you I don't know what I would do with myself. Not everyone would understand what we have, but I think we both like it that way. This is ours. This should be just ours."

You still were not brave enough to look at Brittany's face, and as you were catching you breath, the both of you grew silent again. The breeze was a little stronger and the water from the lake lapped harder and louder against the bank.

"Britt?" you said, after long, quiet, heavy minutes.

"You can't imagine not being able to kiss me?" she finally asked.

You smiled and turned your head to look behind you.

"If there was a world where kissing you wasn't allowed," you said, "I never want to hear about it."

She smiled and leaned in towards your lips. You stretched your arm back and cupped the side of her face with your hand. Your lips met, in the comfortable, warm, and delicate intensity of each and every one of your kisses. You broke apart and you looked straight ahead again.

Brittany leaned in towards your ear.

"My parents are gone this weekend. You wanna work on the 'just us' part of being 'just us'?" she whispered seductively in your ear.

You felt your heart swell instantaneously, but you also felt your stomach fall. You didn't know how you were going to be incurably in love with Brittany and keep a casual unlabeled friend arrangement at the same time. You almost didn't think it was possible.

Your heart was a mess.