"I am not jealous of 'Love' Hewitt. What's with her name, anyhow?" I asked snippishly. Okay, so I was jealous. But not for the reasons he was thinking.

"Suuure you're not, Al," he said, flashing me a grin, and flopping onto the couch.

I could've torn his eyeballs out at that moment. To say the least, Nicky Lawyer was my absolute best friend of all time. We'd grown up in the same neighborhood, gone on vacations together, heck! we even changed clothes in front of each other (and not just when we were little kids who didn't care, either). It was a fact of life. We were inseparable.

He was a great friend. Guy or not. He could joke around, and he could be serious. He could listen; and he could tell his secrets. We had a bond that had begun in 1st grade when we were both new to Freedville, New York. He'd come from Oklahoma, and I'd come from South Carolina. Neither one of us had a friend to our name that fateful first day of school. It seemed natural for us to seesaw with each other considering no one else would because we "talked funny".

I stretched out on the couch beside him. Now sophomores in high school (and with friends running out our butts), we seemed like any normal kids. We didn't even talk funny anymore. "So?" I asked casually, "What're your plans for Thanksgiving plans?" Thanksgiving break started in exactly 4 days. The scheduling gods saw fit to have us start school a few days early so that our Thanksgiving break would start the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and not end until the weekend after was up.

He made a face. "We're going back to Oklahoma."

I raised an eyebrow and burst out laughing. I got to laughing so hard, I rolled right onto the floor. Nicky peeked over the edge to see me try to regain my composure. He had a mouthful of crackers. "What's so funny?" he asked, pieces of cracker spewing sporadically from his mouth.

"Eat with your mouth closed!" I shrieked, wiping saliva-drenched crums from my face and torso. I sat up grumpily. "Isn't your family down there like...the Brady Bunch or something?"

"I wish," he muttered. "It's like the Brady Bunch meets the Torkelsons meets the Camdens meets the Armageddon times twenty." I snorted at his explanation and climbed back onto the couch.

"You've been to the reunion a couple of times though, so you should know," he said, looking up. I stuck out my tongue.

"The last time I went with you that scruffy little boy with the long hair wouldn't leave me alone, and then his older brother with the weird eyes wouldn't stop pulling my hair," I recalled. "Pure hell, I swear."

"Tell me about it," he groaned. "What about you?"

"Mom's gonna be out of town...again, and Dad has big plans to watch the game," I said. "I don't trust his cooking, so I don't even think we're having a dinner."

"You're mom has been gone a lot, hasn't she?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said with a shrug. "It puts clothes on my back, and I can't really complain about the clothes I wear, right?"

He shrugged back. "Think you'd be up to coming and rescue me from my demonic family?"

"What?!" I shrieked. "Heck no! Those people are too freaky even for me."

He laughed, and looked at the TV screen. "Oooh, Baywatch."

"Ugh," I said, whacking him one with a throw pillow and snatching the remote control out of his hands.