“I love you, best friend,” she drawls out as I turn to see her gazing back at me, a peaceful twinkle in her eyes. “And if I have to kick buckets, then I’m so glad it’s with you.” I bite my lip and shake my head just as she shouts, making us both jump. “Bucket, it’s ‘kick the bucket!’” she corrects herself. “This is . . . a pretty morbid start,” I sigh, “and not how I want this portion of our night to go.” “So what,” she states.
