“Please?” There was an edge of desperation in her voice that made me look up but I couldn’t stand the pain in those blue orbs so I turned away again. “What? What do you want me to say, Cherise?” I regretted my tone but I was in no mood to apologise or temper myself. Her voice was small, as though she were talking in class and didn’t want the teacher to hear. Guilty, yeah, she sounded guilty for some reason. “I don’t know. You could…could you…tell me about it? What, what happened?” It was my turn to laugh then. I wasn’t amused.

I stared at the little blue pig, replaying that night in my mind. I came home and almost thought we’d been robbed. But then I noticed that only her stuff was gone, mine was all there, perfectly intact. Except for my CD collection, I discovered a few months later. Not that it mattered. “You want me to tell you why? I don’t know, okay? She just left. Not even a note. Why do you care, anyway?” I looked up with a frown at her expression; her guard had gone up, that wasn’t like her.