when the print is fine

Do you remember the night the four of us swore on the phone book? Towards the end of summer, when our friendships seemed at their peaks. We chose the phone book because, to a few of us, swearing on a Bible would not have meant a thing. So we swore these things, made all these promises that were never supposed to break. And because our right hands were held so tightly to the cover, these promises meant something. Of course, I know, it was just some pointless thing we did as friends, but it still makes the breaking of these promises ten times worse, since they've been sworn.

The thing is, that phone book never burst into flames. This one won't either. Though, in theory, they both should.

Though my fingers weren't crossed, we all know I never meant what I said.