Whiteout.

Best friends since the crib.

You were popular. Glittery. Fun. Giggly. The girl every boy wanted and every girl wanted to be in Wiskayok High.

And Natalie?

She was just the chain-smoking freak who lived in a trailer with her abusive dad and hoarder mom. Yet, you stayed friends with her. Yeah, she half expected you to leave her alone in the depths of Hell called adolescence when you got popular—

But you didn't.

Why?

You loved her. More than a best friend should.

You were good at hiding it. So was she. Making out with boys at parties. Hitting every single base, but no matter what, when your eyes were closed, all you guys could do was imagine that it was each other's hands roaming up your bodies.

In the Wilderness, it became too much. The tension. The lingering glances.

Natalie and you had .

You thought it meant something.

It did.

She just couldn't show it.

So she fucked Travis the next day.

Now, facing you. She could either say that you mattered to her, be vulnerable and open. She could finally have you in her arms. Permanently.

But she's stubborn.

So she'll leave you in the cold. One way or another.

Until it's too late.

Message one: you're alive (barely)

Message two: you're dead

Message three: scaring her (alive, but acting dead for a few minutes)