“It’s alright if you’re too scared to do it.” He said as I turned my back to walk away. “I just remember when you were always up for some excitement.”
“Things change, people change.” I yelled as I was walking away.
“Yeah, well, guess I can get your cousin to help me...”
“She’s too dumb, so good luck!”
“Please you’re the only one I know, the only one who’s smart enough to pull it off!”
He was lying, I was the only one stupid enough to help him, it was just a matter of time before I caved.
“But fine! You really are too scared! Guess I should’ve known, there’s always been something cowardly about you.” He carried on.
It had always been this way. He wanted something from me and manipulated me, one way or another. However I was hardly in a position to judge, I used to do exactly the same to him. It had always been that way. It was just how our friendship, if you could call it that, worked.
We had met each other when we were around ten years old, he had played the “you’re too scared”-card back then too, when he wanted me to steal cookies from the kitchen. Our mothers were best friends when they were young, and when he and his mother moved in to the neighbourhood they resumed their friendship. After we had gotten the cookies, I had dared him to steal some strawberries from our neighbour’s garden. It had slowly escalated from there, but now I had called it quits, unlike him. It had been too close the last time we had worked together, I could still hear the sirens and feel the exhaustion that had come with running away. In the night I saw the images of the friends who were now behind bars, and I heard their angry voices screaming at me. The job he was suggesting now was quite tempting, this I had to admit to myself.
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