No one expected their friendship to last this long. Not with the endless arguments, fights, disagreements and debates that peppered their daily lives. They fought day in, day out, in private and in public. Still, they never stayed angry with each other, well, maybe for a couple of times, but even those times didn't last long enough for their friendship to falter.

  He was a few inches taller than her, enough for him to look down on her during their banters and enough for her to trick him into doing things that she can do herself. He was goodlooking, intelligent, authoritive and just a tad bit moody. He was perfect balance of good and bad, tough and soft. Boyfriend material, as most girls would say.   She was tall for her age, but not tall enough to intimidate boys or short enough to be intimidated. She was average looking but not easily forgotten, smart, bossy and practical. She was always the comforter, the adviser, the one who'll listen. Always there when needed, like a mother. That's what they call her. The sister, the bestfriend, the mother.    They have compatibility issues. They fight. They disagree. They swear and curse each other into oblivion, and everytime this happens, everyone expects one of them to walk away, ignore the other and just end it then and there. No more apologies, no more fights, no more debates on which singer sang the song better. Peace, after years of endless arguments that put lawyers to shame.   But when people weren’t expecting them to end their friendship, they were expecting them to officially become an item. It was obvious from the way they looked at each other that their feelings ran much deeper than friendship; they just didn’t know how the other felt.   Until a day, a game, a dare.    They were sitting beside each other, with friends on each side, creating a full circle. A bottle half-full of vodka spinned in the dead middle and everyone breathlessly waited for it to stop. They have agreed that the person that the bottle points to needs to reveal their most hidden secret or drink the whatever is in the bottle straight up because that's what teenagers do.    Finally, the bottle stopped, and pointed to her. Immediately, she reached for the bottle and started to open it. Before she even took a sip, he said in a loud voice,   "There's this girl who annoys the hell out of me. She contradicts me, laughs when I'm wrong, smirks at me and makes everything a contest between the two of us. She's the only one who dares defy me, the only one who dares post mean and embarassing pictures of me on her Facebook Wall. I told her once to get out of my way and she blocked every escape, never letting herself out of my sight. She said she wants me dead. She said she doesn't want anything to do with me and I hate her for it. I hate her because she's the only one who can make me smile, make me laugh, and make me conscious of everything I do, for fear that she might not like it. I hate her because she made me buy a bottle of cologne just because she said she liked the smell of it. I hate her because everytime I look in her eyes, I can't help but accept her apologies or say sorry. I hate her because I can't make her cry or even shed a tear. I hate her because she makes me do things I don't normally do, wait for her text or call. I hate her because just when I thought I already know her inside out, she surprises me with things I never expected hyer to say or do. I hate her because I love her."   He then turned around and faced her.   "I love you!" he yelled. "Do you hear me?! I love you!"   She smiled softly at him. “Is this a dream?” she asked quietly.   “I hope not,” he replied, and kissed her.   And just like that, they crossed that thin, thin line in the next stage of their relationship.

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