I wished James would stop pretending he wasn't in love with Amy. Maybe it would make Amy's condition worse, but you never know the good it could do. Amy had been "in love" with James since day 7, if not sooner. She could be so subtle about things, though. Which is why I never knew about her destructive habits until three years ago. She’d been living with it for 4 years now, and things only seemed to get worse as the days go on. “Hey,” I crooned, “What colours are your pills this week?” She sniffed, “They’re yellow stars. Very cute.” “Yay,” I giggled. “Better than the putrid green ovals.” She laughed a little bit. Ever since I found out about it, it’s kind of been our light-hearted way of talking about difficult subjects—What colour are her pills this time? There was silence on the line. I couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t “Let me drive you here. I’ll fly over and we can drive over here, you, James, and me. It’ll be like a road trip!” or something to that effect. My train of thought was halted when Rob suddenly moved. He put his now-emptied cup of tea down and poured my now-cold and as-of-yet-untouched tea down the sink. He touched my face and looked into my eyes with a sad sort of look. Then he kissed my forehead, squeezed my hand, and went back to bed. The sitcom with the laugh track was still audible, static and far-away in the phone, although I guessed since I couldn’t hear Amy breathing or doing anything, that she had moved the mouthpiece away from her mouth so that I couldn’t hear her. “Amy, Amy, Amy,” I softly said. “James took away my Swiss Army Knife,” Amy replied. “Ha. Well it’s good to know the boy has a brain,” I said. The memory of the word “Bitch” carved oh-so-eloquently into Amy’s fore-arm was as clear as yesterday in my mind. James confided in me that she had been showing him her scars for ages, while I was away, and he would ask me what he should do. I would have no idea. I still don’t, by the way. “You know I love you,” I said, more seriously, into the phone. “Remember when we were little? We would play dress-up and have tea parties and make your little brother pretend to be a girl with us! We named him Juliette instead of Julian! And our sleepovers on Friday nights, remember those? I’d go to your swim lessons and watch you and be so jealous on Saturday mornings. And when you got sent home from boarding school I was so glad because it meant I could see you more often, and we used to plan our weddings, and we’d be the maids of honour at each-other’s wedding, and…. and…” I trailed off. I was almost hysterical. I was the one sobbing now, and Amy was the one who was silent on the other line. She was not the type to cry when someone else was. Sometimes I started crying just because I was watching someone cry. “June,” Amy said, “I’m sorry.” She paused. I suppose she was searching for what. “I know; I am too, I don’t know, maybe I should let you go, try some warm milk even though it’s disgusting, it’s supposed to put you to sleep, or a hot water bottle, or I suppose James is good for that-” I rambled on until Amy stopped me. “June!” she said indignantly. “James and I are not even sharing a room!” I smiled weakly. I had a feeling she’d pick that part out over all my inane ramblings. Either that or she would tell me that warm milk was so disgusting she’d rather eat mud. “Go to sleep, girl. You can call me when you get home from work if you want, but you need to go to bed right now,” she commanded. That’s my Amy. She’s so bossy. “You should try to sleep as well. Goodnight. I love you,” I said, and hung up the phone. I wiped tears from my eyes and made another tea. I actually drank this one. It was almost three when I finally went back to bed. Rob was sitting on the edge of the bed, reading a book in the light the moon cast through the window. I sat down next to him and rested my head on his shoulder, counting the stars I could see in the square of glass. “Things will turn out alright,” Rob said, closing his book and rubbing my back. “There are 29 stars in our window,” I replied, completely irrelevantly. “Stupid light pollution.” “Go to sleep, June,” Rob murmured as he gently pushed me in the direction of the pillow. “I love a forceful man,” I teased, crawling over to my pillow and slithered under the covers. When I woke up again, it was 9:37 a.m. and all I wanted to do was sleep. At least it was Friday, and my first class didn’t start until noon. Rob was already gone. It was 6:37 Amy’s time…. I eventually showered, ate, and brushed my hair and teeth. I grabbed my books and walked to my class in ten minutes. I got there half an hour early.