Song: Best friend by Cavetown

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I run around the front, grabbing my backpack off the back porch and quickly looping around to the passenger side of my mom's white mini-van.

"What are you doing?" I questioned Cole as he sits in the front seat where I always sit. "Move."

Cole just grins while slowly rolling the window up in my face.

Of course.

I grab the door handle and pull, trying to get the door open but Cole just sticks his tongue out at me. That little weasel locked the door.

"Open the door you little brat," I say with clenched teeth, "It's my seat."

"Wow!" Cole says while feigning fear, "I'm so scared!"

I narrow my eyes at him and scowl before turning around and walking over to Mom who was locking the front door.

"Mom!" I complain, "Cole won't get out of my seat!"

My mom groans in annoyance before turning to me with a frown, "Just sit in the back seat and let Cole have a turn in the front."

I mutter a few things under my breath before walking over and climbing into the back seat. Cole was such a brat.

I glare at his stupid gelled hair and watch as he fixes it in the front mirror. What a self-conceited jerk. I cross my arms before letting out a huff and rolling my eyes.

"You look ugly as always, no gel or any hair product is gonna help," I mumble. That was a lie, Cole was definitely not ugly for a thirteen-year-old boy, he had clear skin that I would die for and a sharp jawline. I had always been jealous of his light hazel eyes and thick hair. But I would never admit that.

"Says the girl with a bird's nest as hair." He scoffs before picking up his backpack and taking out his inhaler. Cole had problems with breathing ever since he was a baby and he had to carry around an inhaler wherever he went. I feel my eyes soften a bit as he quickly inhales some air before stuffing it back in his bag and turning to me with a smirk.

"Your face looks like a butt."

Nevermind, I don't feel anything anymore. I lunge foreword and grab his shirt by the collar trying to pull him out of the seat.

"Stop! Mom!" Cole screams like a little girl. What a baby.

Suddenly I stop, as I watch something fall out of his bag.

"Is that Lamby?" I question with a small smile.

"No!" Cole says immediately shoving the small stuffed animal in his bag.

"It is!"  I say, "I thought you gave him away years ago!"

Cole's face burns with a blush as he tries to avoid eye contact with me.

"You kept him?" I ask softly, Cole doesn't answer but looks out the window.

"That is so sweet!"

"Shutup, Buttface."

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I lift my head from a hard surface and look around with wide eyes. "Cole?"

My eyes start to water before I look at the clock with tired eyes. 2:34. I get up from the uncomfortable wooden chair and shuffle to my room. I open the door and peer in at the untouched bed and clean floors before lightly stepping in and walking to my closet. I pull the doors open before sinking to the ground and pulling out some of my sweaters from the floor, searching for the familiar brown, cardboard box.

Finally, my hands reach a hard object and I quickly pull it out, dusting off the top of the box and softly opening the lid. I look at all the objects that had been stuffed in this box after the funeral and feel myself hold my breath. My fingers brush past Cole's Baseball jersey and his lucky mitt, digging in the box for a certain stuffed animal. I look past his inhaler and random pictures of us as kids before finding what I was looking for at the bottom of the box.

My hands carefully pick up the soft, raggedy lamb before pressing it close to my chest. I close my eyes and smell the familiar scent of my brother. I feel my eyes start to water before I take a deep breath. I pick up my phone from my pocket and quickly dial a number, lifting it to my ear.

"Hello?"

I don't answer but instead, cover my mouth, trying not to let him hear me cry. Hearing his voice made me want to tell him everything, I wanted to tell him everything I had been keeping to myself.

"Shrimp?"

I don't answer, the lump in my throat was too much. Just hearing his voice was enough. I already felt a little bit better. I wonder for a moment if I should hang up but my fingers won't move.

"If you're going to call me this late at night, can you at least say something?" I hear him say in a soft, teasing manner.

"Yeah, I'm here." I manage to get out, my voice shaking more than I would have liked.

"Are you okay?" I hear Tyler ask in concern.

"I'm fine, can you just stay on the phone with me?" I ask, my voice cracking a bit in the end.

I hear a pause on the other end before I hear him sigh, "Is everything all right?"

"No," I whisper as another tear rolls down my face. I hug my knees to my chest as I hear random noises from the other end but Tyler doesn't say anything, "Tyler?" I croak.

"I'm here. I'm on my way over, okay? Just stay where you are."

My breath gets caught in my throat as I realize that he was coming over. I couldn't tell if I was relieved or nervous. If he came over I'd have to tell him everything. I let out a deep breath, deciding that I would be okay with that.

"Thank-you." I whisper.

"No problem, Shrimp. Your doors unlocked right?" He asks, his voice still gentle and full of concern.

"I hum in response, feeling the constricting of my chest start to loosen. How did just the sound of Tyler's voice calm me even as I was having a panic attack?

I sit there, the phone pressed against my face, tears dried down my cheeks. Tyler talks to me through the phone, telling me how far away he is and repeatedly asking if I'm okay. Twenty minutes pass and I hear the familiar sound of Tyler's Jeep pull into my driveway. I close my eyes as I hear the front door open and carefully get up from the floor, stepping out into the hallway.

My fuzzy socks pad across the hardwood floors of the hallway and I lift my eyes to see Tyler standing in front of me, his phone still pressed to his ear and his eyebrows etched into a frown.

I look into Tyler's eyes, trying to hold back tears as he walks up to me and wraps me in his arms, his head resting on top of mine.

"Thank you," I whisper into his shirt.

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