For Emmett. And partially Nikolas. She flushes, in the happy glow of his unwilling compliment. She is hopeless and she knows it. She's too smart to forget it. She knows what she feels is wrong, and she knows she is too young to be thinking like this. His face is taught. He doesn't want to be here. This girl is infuriating enough. He stares silently at her, and she tries and fails not to beam at him. Her emotions are wrong, all wrong. And then the other one walks by. He gives her the warmest of smiles and the friendliest of waves. Her feeling is torn away quickly, replaced with solace and happiness. This is a person she cares about deeply, a person she trusts with everything. The boy relaxes slightly. This other person is neutral territory for him. He narrows his eyes at the girl, who's face glows with happiness, and not the undisguised confusion and disgust that she viewed him with. His feelings for this girl were very simple. He did not care. He did not like her, not at all. She skips over to her friend, her beacon of light in darkness, and hugs him tightly, surprising him. He looks down at her, bemused, as she looks up at him with shining, affectionate eyes. He pats her back a little awkwardly; she wasn't a very sentimental person, not by any means. The boy's mouth becomes a hard line. His adrenaline spikes. Seeing her happy did something to him; especially of it was with another and not him. The girl's friend sighs, perplexed. The girl's mind was confusing. She was a very mercurial person, her attitude changing constantly. He gives her a small, affectionate smile that she returns in the form of a large, toothy grin. He doesn't know how much exactly he means to her. As the boy stalks away, she is left with a person who didn't confuse her, and who she could say she loved without any double meanings or implications. It was a simple kind of love. One that she enjoyed. But in the back of her mind, doubt seeps through her brain. This kind of love lacked, lacked something she craved, which she could only get from the angry boy. Her brow furrows. She doesn't understand why she can't just be happy with her friend, she didn't have to keep running back to him. But she relished the tightening of her stomach and the fuzziness in her head, because the feeling was designed to be one of pleasure. She stares at her dearest friend. Why couldn't he be enough? Deep in her mind, she knew the answer. She didn't like it, but she knew it. Her feelings were strong, and they didn't fade with time. Wounds that remained open to infection. Wounds her friend simply couldn't mend. He was the keeper of her heart, not the owner. It belonged to someone who didn't want it, and someone she didn't want to give it to, but she was stuck with this feeling, her anxiety growing. She looks at her friend, whose facial expressions she knew well, and he knows what she's thinking. He frowns slightly, "Why can't you just say what you feel?" he mutters, exasperated. She shrugs. He rakes a hand through his hair. Thoughts of the boy resurface in her mind unwillingly. What she would give to be able to let her heart sing for him. But she knows she can't. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't. It was like a bowling ball to the chest. She winces. He sighs and tugs her away from that place, that awful place, as he takes her to a place she knows. The blankness of the scenery changes, it's a room, an airy room that welcomes them, a room that leads to home. She lets the warmth shine in her face. This place is a good place. She peaks at her friend, who smiles benevolently at her, peace etched on his face. She knows she's done right, she knows she has made her choice. But her heart aches as the door closes and swallows her up. The boy wakes up suddenly, his head aching. The world spins. Everything hurts, and the light is too bright. His mother and his two friends' mothers are there. The girls mother's face is ashen, tears flooding down her face. The other boys mother is wailing. His mother, though sorrowful, is relieved, her eyes full of tears and love. "You were in a crash. Your friends didn't survive." she murmurs gently. He remembers. He's winded now, his eyes pricking with tears. He was going to tell her...he was going to tell her once they got there, to the pizza parlor, in front of her best friend, so they both knew. He sobs hysterically, his howls mournful and full of pain. He knew he could've saved her. He knew. His eyes glaze over with panic. "I was driving." he murmurs, "I killed her." he closes his eyes, "It wasn't—" his mother starts, "Yes, yes it was. I loved her mom." his mouth goes dry, and he passes out, seeing his mother's surprised face, along with her face, full of uncertainty, and sadness, and the other face, serene and tranquil, resigned, taking what was his with him. He thinks about how much her mother looks like her, and wonders if he could settle for an older woman. He sleeps with a perverted smile on his face, while she gazes down at him. She looks at her friend, disapproval on his face, and knows she was right, and knows why they were allowed to see. "Let's go home, Girl." they no longer had names; they simply had genders. "Yes, lets, Boy." and they leave Earth and all in it, for something different. Just a therapeutic one shot.