I laughed despite myself.

That was Noah.

He rarely gave speeches.

He didn’t pretend everything would magically become better.

He simply had a way of making difficult moments feel survivable.

When my first serious teenage relationship ended, he sat with me on the porch while I cried.

He didn’t tell me the boy wasn’t worth it.

He didn’t promise I would meet somebody better.

After a while, he simply asked:

“Do you want me to insult him?”

I laughed.

“No.”

“Okay.”

A minute passed.

“I have several insults ready.”

And somehow, I laughed again.

PART 2 — The Night Everything Changed

By senior year, prom was approaching.

I already knew who I wanted to go with.

But Noah apparently believed our childhood agreement required formal enforcement.

One afternoon, he appeared beside my locker.

“Do you remember first grade?”

I looked at him suspiciously.

“That depends.”

“Raisins.”

I smiled.