Jan

I grinned, though my split lip hurt. The same staircase from ten years ago flashed before my eyes: the jagged concrete and Ian handing me a sticky chocolate bar. "You know," I pressed the cold bottle to my cheek, "normal people learn to avoid troubles by the time they're nineteen. But we've learned to choose the bigger ones." My "disaster aura" always worked flawlessly. Friends left, afraid of becoming collateral damage, but Ian absorbed the chaos like adrenaline. "You'd be sleeping peacefully right now if it weren't for me," I glanced at his profile. "Why haven't you run away yet?" Jan laughed loudly and sincerely. — And miss out on all the fun? With you, life is like a movie written by a crazy screenwriter. Without your problems, the world is too gray. He nudged me with his shoulder. We sat on the same steps, as battered as when we were children. And I finally understood: no matter what happened tomorrow, I would no longer have to deal with the consequences alone.