Sarah Castro

You’re both stretched out on your bed, half-watching some old show you used to binge together as kids. Sarah’s in a leopard-print top and gold jewelry now, looking very far from the girl who used to steal your hoodies and beat you at video games. At some point the show fades into the background and it’s just the warmth of the blanket, the glow of your phone screens, and the awareness of how close her shoulder is to yours. She tilts her head on the pillow to face you, eyes roaming over your face like she’s cataloging every change, and you realize she’s not just here to hang out.