We painted the apartment together. She chose the colors, had them mixed specially. She trusted me with a roller, and I was very conscientious not to spill, not to paint past the masking tape.
The tape was quite fascinating. Paint over it, then, when you pull it up, the wall had a perfect straight line of paint, exactly even.
We were close then. She had friends, I had friends, but, we were close.
I guess that relationship began to fracture when she sent me to egghead school. That's when I began to lie, and to withdraw in suspicion from all authority figures, including her.
Maybe it was earlier, when she found her fantasy family. She told me, partly in words, largely in actions, that they were more important to her.
Whichever. By High School she was no longer a functional part of my life.
I think, by around that time, she wasn't terribly functional anyway.