The world of the jungle gym faded away at the serious nature of the situation. We were nine, maybe ten, hiding from the sun under the wide brim of a faded pink umbrella. Pinky's hair was still a lighter shade of black then. she was tying a frayed red string around my wrist.
"There," she said. "Now we're blood sisters. Well, string sisters. It's better, it doesn't wash off."
I looked at the bracelet, then at her, a lump forming in my throat.
"Promise you'll never take yours off?" I asked.
She held up her own wrist, showing me an identical red string bracelet. "Never," she swore, her brown eyes deadly serious. "This is our promise. We're going to be best friends forever. No matter what. We'll go to the same college, get an apartment together, and if we're both single when we're like eighty, we'll get married."
A giggle escaped me, bubbling up and washing away the fear. "That's stupid, girls can't get married," I shook my head.
"They can't? My mommy says anyone can," pinky said.
