You're beautiful, you know you are. Anyone on this planet who did not find you attractive would have to be crazy. Your hair is so long, so silky and thick and it's just always so perfect no matter how you wear it. When we go out to the city, not a single strand is ever out of place, hanging almost down to your waist in perfect straightness. When you come over after working a 10 hour shift and all that hair is pulled into a messy bun, and it's a little frizzy, you still look beautiful, as if you spent an hour trying to get that bun to look just the way it does. I notice things like that, and sometimes I just stare at you.

I know you've caught me staring, but you stare at me too! When we're out for dinner I'm always saying, "Are you wearing a padded bra, because your tits look really big" and you're always saying, "Your hair is getting so long, it makes your face look really good, and your ass looks really hot in those jeans, I want to touch it", and we'll both be like, oh, thanks hon...we already knew all of that anyway.

Other people say, she's so superficial, but I find some odd attraction to you, knowing you spend hours getting ready to go out, and your view of "oh my gosh I'm so grubbed out" looks better than what I wear to school half the time. Most people think that all you are is vanity and nothing else, but I think it's cute.

Maybe it's because I see in you a part of me I try to hide. What you are so openly - shallow, materialistic, bound to pop culture and your image, reputation - are all the things I struggle to make sure that nobody notices in myself. They know I'm a "girly girl", but they don't know how alike we actually are. When our mutual friend says, God I can't stand her, she's just nothing but appearance, you can't talk to her about anything I can't really understand it, and maybe that's because you and I can talk about things. Like our hair, our makeup, and sex. You're so good with talking about the stupid things. I feel the most comfortable talking about the stupid things with you.

So you sleep with a lot of guys, and they all say, You're friends with her? Yeah I've heard of her...isn't she like...a really huge slut? And sometimes I act like I had no idea and I say, no, where'd you hear that? But lately I haven't felt the need to hide it as much from people and so I just say, yeah she's a total whore, she's slept with 30 guys in the past couple of months! And it's like a big joke, it's funny watching their jaws drop in utter disbelief. I feel proud that you're my friend. You're not a bad person...you're one of the best girls I've ever known.

The way we act around each other is very strange, as if we're always trying to impress each other but in very subtle ways. That's why I sometimes think about our friendship and wonder how I really feel about you, because sometimes I feel like you're a guy. I need to look good for our "date", I need to compliment you, I feel obligated to hug you or give you a kiss on the cheek at the appropriate times and when we do hug or kiss it's like we both don't know how far to go...it ends up being quick and somewhat awkward...but not unpleasant.

I don't think I'm attracted to girls in that way really, but maybe you're an exception. Maybe it's just that you're so sexual all the time, everything about you is alluring. You're so exotic, your dark hair and tan skin and the way you do your eye makeup. You have those hips and that ass on a small frame, just like me, and your skin is so clear and soft. It's like we were cut from almost the same mold, but you got a little more beauty, I got a little more brains. You got the sexy bad-girl appeal and I got the sexy girl-next-door appeal. There's a part of you that wants to be like me, you said it yourself once before. You told me a year ago when we first met that you liked me so much because I was "such a typical white girl". I like you so much because you're that bad girl I always wanted to be, at least as a trial run. I wanted to have the confidence that you do, I wanted to be the kind of girl that turns heads wherever she goes. Even if your reputation starts to precede you it doesn't stop men from falling in love with you anyway. They're men, they see your beauty and they are drawn to the way you pout your lips and blow them off. They can't get enough of you. Where they walk all over my innocent self, you control them like they're your little pets. I wish we could trade places for a day, just so that I could feel that power.

It doesn't really anger me that much when our other friends talk shit about you. I just keep my mouth shut and nod my head, because they're different from you and I. They think that I am like them when sometimes I think I fall directly in the middle, and sometimes I think maybe I even fall a little more to your side. You're one of those girls my mother wouldn't have liked me being friends with in high school. What you have, I crave, and what I have, you crave. It's almost like we have to stay friends no matter what the people around us say, because we need each other.

When months went by this summer and we didn't say a word to each other I really missed you. I felt horrible the day before we finally went out for dinner. We acted as if not a single thing had happened, but so much had. I'd been in a car accident, for one, and hadn't heard a word from you since...and you had been out with me that night. You could have been in that car, A. Remember how we kissed each other goodbye before I left? That night is pretty much a blur to me, but I remember us kissing goodbye. When I was in the hospital waiting in the wheelchair I kept thinking, A's at the club right now and she has no idea this has happened, someone needs to call her. I almost felt guilty for having been in a car accident because I knew it would upset you, and I knew things were going to get weird after.

But you have your own way of dealing with things. I was mad at first that you couldn't even pick up the phone to call me and ask how I was, but you could go over to everyone else's houses and brought them flowers. I was thinking, what the fuck, but after a while I finally got it. That's just the way you are. I can't even explain what that means, but I just understand. With any other friend I'd have wanted to talk over our problems, I'd have sat down to dinner with you like I did with the rest of our group to explain why I hadn't seen them or called them in months...but with you, I didn't need to do that. It was just back into our routine, and I could have taken that exact moment of reunion and compared it with a night 6 months earlier and it would have been identical. You and I, we just don't change. Maybe superficiality has no levels, it's just always there.

You always make me feel special, so that when we touch I just feel like I'm the only person you're paying attention to, and when you ask me questions about my life I am so flattered. I live through you, being the girl I always wondered what it'd be like to be. When you invite me out, I can hardly say no...how could I pass up a chance of you wanting to be with me? You told me stories about this weekend and said, Krista you would have loved this place, D and I had so much fun, I wish you could have been there...

Our other friends are always fighting with you, and I hear so many stories about how you're such a bitch, you're such a whore, you don't care about anyone but yourself, you're a brat, you demand attention, you cheat on your boyfriends, you are the same way you were in high school, you're not going anywhere in your life...I could go on and on.

It sounds crazy, I know, but I wonder if I have a little crush on you and that is why I just can't see what everyone else seems to see.


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