I ran inside to escape the cold rain. I stood in front of Jen's door all waterlogged. She invited me in by tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. She stretched up on her tip-toes and gave me a soft kiss on my left cheek.

"How was school this week?" she asked.

"Okay. But it really sucks."

Jen smiled. She sat down in a big vinyl bean bag chair in the corner of her living room.

"Want some?" she asked, picking up a pipe from the floor.

"What is it?"

She smiled and lit the end and drew the smoke in. I came and sat on the couch closest to her. I looked at her admiringly. Jen started to giggle and waved the pipe around like a baton.

"Do you know what else sucks?" she asked.

"What?"

"I do," she said. She crawled off the bean bag chair, giggling and wobbling, and made her way to me, and got me high.

I sat relaxed while Jen lingered between my legs. I looked at her soft lips.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah!" she said.

"So what was that for?"

"Why, don't you like it?"

"No, I like it!"

"Well then!" she said, smiling.

I passed my nose through her hair – it had a gentle scent – and I quietly said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said. Jen crawled up to the couch to sit at my side. She rested her head against my chest and sighed happily and fell asleep.

I sat there with her against me. I could feel her warmth. I looked down at her beautiful face. It was so peaceful and perfect. I felt sad somehow. Her breath came softly and slowly and it seemed to me that it smelled sweet. I put my arm around her and gently held onto her.

In times like this I could feel Jen's beauty engulf me. It crept over me like moss growing over rock: moving imperceptibly slowly and spreading silently. Jen was the only one who did this to me. Others were pretty, but they were not beautiful – not in a way that I could touch; not in any tangible way.

Like slowly rising water, I could feel Jen's beauty move across my skin. Around me and within me, she filled every space. No beauty but God's should be able to do this. Maybe if I were a saint, such beauty could be found in Him. Or maybe Jen's beauty was God's beauty on loan. Who else could create something so beautiful? Maybe this feeling was just a product of my own delusional mind. But it was real to me.

She was soft, but not retreating; delicate, but not shrinking against the world.

I guess it was a week or two later that we had a chance to get together again. It was in the evening and the late fall sun was big and red and making its way across the clear sky. The sun seemed to slide down extra slowly. And finally, kissing the horizon, it said goodnight to the city. Jen was there and she made me happy again when she looked at me with those eyes that were as dark as the sun was bright.

"Hi," I said. I felt dull and boring.

"Hi," she said, delivering that single spoken word as if it were laid on the wingtip of an angel.

I inwardly bubbled at the sight of her, and at that moment I knew, just knew, that we were special together, like Antony and Cleopatra, or Caesar and Brutus, but even better.

We walked together down Yonge Street. There was this little Japanese restaurant on the corner of Yonge and Wellesley. I think it was called Sushiban, but I don't recall. It had little paper lamps hanging from the ceiling and small square tables made from maple.

Well we went in and I remember noticing the smell of sesame in the air. A short, cute Japanese woman came over and smiled at us and said, "Two?"

"Yes," I said. She led us to a table by the window. In short order we were brought some rolls. Jen tried using the chopsticks, but she was not so successful. At first things were okay, but after the first bite the roll unraveled and fell to the table in clumps. We both laughed at the unwound roll that was lying in a heap on the table. I noticed that the chef was scowling at us because of our butchering his art.

I have since found out that the roll is to be treated reverently, eaten delicately, and held in one's fingers. I wonder why they don't put up signs about this. Unlike white people, who are afraid to touch anything with their hands, Japanese are not afraid to put down the chopsticks and use their fingers when appropriate. Why didn't a Japanese person ever tell me this? Do they have a secret delight in us defiling their little seaweed masterpieces?

"How's English class?" Jen asked.

"Okay," I said, rhythmically stabbing the rice bowl. The rice was shaped in a perfect sphere, as if it had been served with an ice cream scoop.

"That's good."

We ate in silence for a while. I alternated between picking at my donburi and stabbing at the rice sphere. I thought about important things: There are bits of cooked egg floating around in my donburi.... I don't like eggs in my donburi.... Why did they have to put it there? I can avoid most of the eggs and get at the meat and vegetables.... There's nothing worse than finding your favorite dish made completely wrong.... Then I noticed Jen shifting in her seat, moving her bum around restlessly.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She didn't answer me and just stared out the window.

"Jen?"

Nothing.

"Jen!"

"What. What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Oh! Sorry.... I was thinking about something." She smiled. Her smile completely disarmed me and I felt myself melting into my chair. I almost completely forgot what I was even doing there.

"You look restless," I said.

"Oh, yeah."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not doing so good in school," Jen said.

"Oh," I said. We ate the rest of the meal in silence.

The night was solidly dark after supper. The garish lights of Yonge Street's sex shops, strip joints, and lingerie stores were busily enticing people in. We walked down Yonge to College Park.

"Do you think you'll fail?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe."

We found a nice quiet spot in the park and sat on the grass.

"I feel lost," Jen said. She squeezed my hand. "I'm confused." She seemed to be shaking slightly.

"But I'm here," I said to her, putting my arm on her shoulder and drawing her to me. Her face was against mine now, and I could feel some of her tears rolling down my ear.

"I'm here, so you're not lost," I said cheerfully.

Jen sniffled, and with her voice falling to a whisper, said into my ear, "I love you so much."

I snatched her tight against me. "I love you too."

She pulled back a little, so that she could see my eyes – the first time that she ever looked for my gaze – and she managed a miserable smile.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she said.

"Jen. Don't be so worried about everything. It's not good for you," I said to her as if I knew what I was talking about. My hands were looped around her neck and my fingers were playing with her soft hair.

"I know. But I just feel so strange, like I want to go away."

"Go where?"

"Anywhere! Nowhere!"

Jen took a deep breath and let it out in a colossal sigh.

"I don't know," she said.

"You're confused."

"Yeah."

"Yeah.... But why? What's there to be confused about?"

"What do you mean?" Jen asked.

"Well, it's so simple. Just go to school, study, and that's it." As if I believed it to be true.

"But it's not that simple," she said.

"But it can be that simple. Instead of letting yourself get worked up about everything."

"I guess."

"Besides," I said gleefully, "you've got me!"

"I know," Jen said. She was beginning to cry again.

I remember thinking to myself that I was just feeding her so much horseshit. But I could see that she was worrying way too much, and I wanted to comfort her.

"But what about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah you!" she said, giving me a little punch in the arm.

"Oh so now you smile!" I said, giving her a gentle prod in return.

She stuck her tongue out, and the sparkles returned to her eyes.

"Really, though," Jen said, "what about you?"

"Well." I paused and thought for a moment. "I don't know, it's pretty simple I guess."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I just do my homework and see you."

"Don't you ever feel lost?"

"No," I said calmly, "I know that I have you, so everything is fine."

"Ah, you're sweet," Jen said. She kissed me and held my face in her hands.

I didn't mention how I was irritated by the people at school, or how so much of what goes on in life seems to me to be idiotic and foolish. I think I was doing the right thing by being supportive and happy for Jen.

"I sort of feel better now," said Jen, still holding my face. I hoped I had helped her.

"So what do you want to do now?" I asked.

"Let's stay here for a while."

So we sat, touching each other gently. Her eyes seemed alive with a resurgent spirit. Her hair moved slightly in the breeze, and I remember thinking that I wanted her hair and everything else to stay unchanged forever.

The night moved on, and an hour, or maybe a few hours later, Jen thought it was a good idea to go back to her place. We walked side by side, holding hands and talking happily. As we got nearer to her home, Jen took us on a detour.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"It's a surprise."

She led us on a convoluted tour of the projects, until we got to an apartment building with balconies on the first floor.

"Here we are," she said, pointing at the ground-floor apartment. She hopped over the balcony railing and asked me to jump over. Jen lightly tapped on one of the windows, and in a few seconds the window was opened from within.

"Wassup," said the head that peered out from the darkness.

"Wassup," said Jen, answering the head that had eyes hidden in the shadows. The head began to protrude from its window frame. It took a scrutinizing look at me. Jen smiled, and said, "He's okay."

"Okay," answered the head, still looking at me warily from within the darkness.

She extended her hand, and the head produced its own hand, and within a second the two hands conducted an exchange.

"Thanks," said Jen. The head nodded once and receded into the darkness. The window slid shut from within.

"Coming?" asked Jen. She was already hopping the railing and heading away. I tore my attention away from the formerly-open window, and followed behind her.

"Did you just buy drugs?" I asked.

"Shhh!" she whispered. "Be quiet. You don't know who's watching. Wait 'till we get home."

I nodded and kept my mouth shut during the walk back to her place.

Relaxing in her big bean bag chair, Jen frowned coyly and blew a kiss at me. She pulled a packet from her pocket. "Here we go," she said, holding the package up to the light.

"Let me see," I asked. Jen tossed it at me and I dropped it on the floor.

"Oops," I said. I looked inside and saw little pills that were stamped on the side with images. Some were hearts, some were peace signs, and some had the Mercedes logo. I had never seen anything like it before. "Acid?" I asked.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's E."

"I thought it was only for raves."

"Hahah, silly boy. It's for anywhere we want."

"Oh. So what do you want to do?"

"I don't know," she said. She took the package from me and pulled a heart shaped pill out of the bag and dropped it into her mouth. "Charades?"

I laughed. "Right," I said sarcastically.

Jen smirked and looked up at me from beneath her soft eyebrows. "Thanks for talking with me," she said. "I feel better now."

"I'm glad. That's what I'm here for!"

"And other stuff."

"And other stuff?"

"Yeah. That's what you're here for... and other stuff."

"Oh!" I said, figuring it out.

"But thanks, you know. I'm really lucky that I know you."

I smiled shyly, but I didn't reply – we just looked at each other and appreciated each other for a moment.

"Let's watch some TV!" Jen said with unusual excitement.

Jen jumped up from the big bean bag chair and flopped onto the couch. She grabbed the remote control and changed the channels until she found that disgusting cartoon Beavis and Butthead. The cartoon characters farted, vomited and made vulgar jokes. Jen pulled out two pills. She gave me a peace sign pill and kept a heart shaped pill for herself. "I want all the heart shaped ones," she said.

"Okay," I said.

"Well eat it," she said, putting the pill in her mouth.

"Chew it?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay," I said. I put the pill in my mouth and chewed up the little peace sign.

Beavis and Butthead became a little funnier. Jen rested her head on my chest and warmed her hands between my legs.

"This is nice," Jen said.

"What?" I asked.

"It's nice. It's nice being with you like this. You really make me feel happy."

"You make me happy too," I said.

Jen's attention quickly turned back to the cartoon. The final scene showed the two characters suffering through some sort of drug induced delirium. It was hilarious how they bumbled aimlessly through life.

After the show was over we talked for a bit. Jen gave me another pill and she took a heart shaped pill for herself.

"You're so beautiful," I said, smiling widely at her.

"No, you're so beautiful," said Jen, smiling through half shut eyes.

"Aww," I said. I began to feel like I was going to cry.

Jen kissed me and nibbled my lip. Her beautiful legs snaked up against mine and she pressed her chest against me. I felt waves of love, or was it E, washing over my body. I felt like a chameleon flush with the colors of passion. I felt like a dolphin embraced by the endless comfort of the warm ocean. I felt like Sisyphus finally getting to put down the stone and rest in Elysium. I felt like a baby, blissful in the warmth of its mother's hug.

Jen enticed me, baring her breasts to me and inviting me to suckle them. Her nipples were warm and swollen, and Jen, grinding her teeth and smiling, moaned delightfully. She pushed another pill into my mouth and took one for herself. Jen tossed her head back and got me, tremendously and eternally, inside of her.

This time Jen didn't seem to be desperately clinging or resolutely rushing. She was relaxed, happy, and rhythmic. Her hips seemed to dance to an imaginary Latin tune as her head bobbed loosely. She dug her nails into my back, although I don't think she noticed.

"I love you," she said finally and happily, through her gritted happy smile. She fell asleep beside me on the couch.

In the morning I was disturbed by the sound of pigeons making noise on the balcony. My neck was sore and stiff. I had been sleeping sitting up. Jen was still lying across me. I gave her a nudge to wake her up.

"Jen," I said quietly.

"Jen," I said louder.

I decided to try to lift her head and slip off the couch. As I did this, I noticed that her face was blue. I called her name, over and over, and shook her and pinched her. She didn't seem to be breathing.

I don't remember how, but at some point the ambulance was called and they came and took her away. The last time I saw her I held her snatched tight against me, with her head hung back like a broken branch.

The next chapter  will be put online on 11/17/2015.