The Girl You Call 'Best Friend'

                                    

                                          
 Flynn slipped into the music room, fiercely wiping the tears from her eyes before they could spill over. It shouldn't hurt this much, why does it hurt this much?
                          
	She and Carrie were over - not just when it came to dating, as friends, as well - Flynn knew that. It had been months since they'd broken up, months since Carrie stopped hanging out with her and Julie.
                          
	So why did it still hurt so much to see Carrie with her new friends?
                          
	Slowly, Flynn makes her way to the piano, tentatively placing her hands on the keys. She can play, but only the basics, and nowhere near as good as some of the other people in the music program, like Julie.
                          
	There's a notebook and a pencil on top of the piano. Flynn's not sure why, but she's suddenly very grateful for it when she gets an idea.
                          
	She plays some chords on the piano, pressing the keys down gently, trying not to make too much noise.
                          
	"She likes her coffee the way she likes her men," she sung softly. She paused to write on the notepad before continuing to sing, making up the lyrics on the spot. "Tall and strong and just the right amount of sweetness."
                          
	That's how Carrie had always described her taste in guys. Whenever Flynn asked her about her taste in girls, Carrie would always go very quiet before whispering, "You". The memory made Flynn choke up more.
                          
	"She'll get these random kicks but just roll with it. I promise you there's a whole list. So introspective, distracts when she's sad."
                          
	Carrie had a habit of never wanting to confront her feelings, instead choosing to distract herself from them by throwing herself into a new routine. Flynn used to pride herself on being one of the few people who could get Carrie to open up.
                          
	That was gone now, she supposed.
                          
	"If she's talking to her camera," Flynn continued, pausing every now and then to make a note of the lyrics or chords, "it's probably bad."
                          
	Carrie made what Flynn liked to call 'emotional vlogs' when she was upset. It was her way of venting without letting anyone in.
                          
	Except for Flynn, sometimes.
                          
	"Emotional habits will never outmatch the way she'll talk to you."  Flynn took a deep breath. "Something you should know is she loves the word growth."
                          
	It was one of the most random facts she knew about Carrie Wilson. Carrie had never been able to explain exactly why that word meant so much to her, but it was important to Carrie, so it was important to Flynn.
                          
	Not anymore, though, Flynn reminded herself. God, why did she keep forgetting that their friendship was gone?
                          
	"Smoothies, and songs that hit deep," Flynn carried on listing things that Carrie loved, figuring that if she ever gave this song to anyone, it would help them. "Learning to say no with her heart of gold."
                          
	Although Flynn knew no one could guess it from the charade Carrie put up at school, Carrie was easy to convince to do things, if she cared about the person doing the convincing. It was a privilege, to be able to convince Carrie Wilson.
                          
	"Oh, and set six alarms before you sleep. She'll always sleep in." Flynn laughed a little at her lyrics, remembering all the times Carrie had slept through the first, and sometimes even second alarms they set. She remembered all the times they'd barely got to school on time, running through the hallways and laughing.
                          
	Falling even more in love.
                          
	"The girl you call 'best friend'," Flynn sang. She took her hands off the piano, wiped at her eyes, and made another note of lyrics in the notebook. Flynn took a deep breath before starting to play and sing again.
                          
	"Have to look close to see pain in her eyes, and when she's upset you should just empathise." Carrie was always good at acting, and it had always been difficult for Flynn to tell when she was upset. There was a knack to it - Carrie's eyes always betrayed her emotions. Carrie hated when people tried to solve her problems. 'I can fight my own battles, Flynn!" was a common complaint before Flynn learned that empathy was the way to help Carrie.
                          
	"She believed in storybook love 'til the end. Now please help her find it again." Flynn's feelings towards Carrie were complicated, to say the least. But she still, with all her heart, wanted the girl to be happy.
                          
	Flynn just wasn't enough to make Carrie happy.
                          
	"She laughs when she cries, wipe the tears from her eyes. Be gentle with things that she missed. Watch 'Someone Great' while she quotes the whole thing. Tell her she makes it past this. She'll always transcend. The girl you call 'best friend'." If Flynn couldn't be there to take care of Carrie when she had a bad day, then maybe this song could help someone else take care of her. Even if Flynn couldn't physically be there, maybe she could share her ways to comfort Carrie, so that she could be there in spirit.
                          
	An idea began to form in Flynn's mind, and she paused again to write down some more lyrics.
                          
	"I got four years now the next four's for you, send me the pics when her wishes come true. Please hold her hand when I'm not there to see. Living dreams from when we were thirteen. I love her to death. The girl you call 'best friend'."
                          
	Flynn took her hands off the piano for the final time, letting the tears roll freely down her cheeks. She gingerly picked up the notebook, cradling it like a baby, as though it may break at any moment. Flynn tore the page from the book and took a moment to just look at it, reading through the messily scrawled lyrics and chords.
                          
	She used the tissues in the corner of the classroom to dry her eyes, and splashed her face with water from the first bathroom she saw.
                          
	On her way to biology, Flynn slipped the song into Kayla Torres' locker, hoping that the Dirty Candi girl would understand.