But Kat wasn’t only my friend. She wasn’t only my best friend. She was mine. She’d been mine since the day a young stallion had bucked me off into a fence and I’d gotten a concussion. She’d crept into my room every two hours that night, waking me as the doctor had instructed to make sure I was okay. She’d been mine since the night she’d gotten so drunk at a bonfire party that she’d decided my bed was more comfortable than hers and had crawled in next to me, snoring so loud I’d heard it down the hallway from the living room where I’d slept on the couch. She’d been mine since day one.
