"God damn it," Lana curses for the 475th time today. "Hand me the eraser."

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," she snaps. I hate it when she lies to me. Especially because she's so bad at it.

I sigh, returning my attention to the book in front of me. Mid-exams are going to come around pretty soon and I'm not the slightest bit prepared.

Paying attention in class becomes harder every day, everything is just so confusing and the threatening looks Latoya is shooting me don't help at all.

Cody has practically been begging me for attention, due to Lana's bitch move.

We had decided to go grab a bite somewhere and I invited Cody in, since he's also a friend of both of us.

Right before we got to order, Lana received a call. "Got to go," was all she said. Then she left us, for Wes - as I discovered a couple of days later.

So there I was, with Cody, for dinner, alone.

He, apparently, thought I had set up this plan, where Lana would run off on purpose so I'd be alone with him, like a date.

A friend of his told me that, and I hope sincerely it isn't what he really thought.

I hate playing with his feelings, but I don't know if that's what I am doing.

I mean, I have never given him any possible hint that I might feel the same way for him, nor did he really make a move on me, except for the kiss last year. But he was drunk so I don't even know if that meant anything to him.

Anyway, I'm not sure about his feelings for me, I hope they are non-existent really.

But truth is that he has been begging me for attention lately. He sits next to me in most classes. I can't deny that he's an amazing friend to me but more the one you call when you want to have fun and laugh your ass off.

I appreciate that, of course I do, but that makes our friendship rather superficial.

He doesn't know anything about me, and my knowledge about his life out of school is also minimalized.

I hope with all my heart that I'm not hurting him, by not telling him straight away that I see him no other than a regular friend.

What if I am?

What if I am playing with his feelings?

That'd be awful! I've always hated it when people do that, revealing my opinion openly about guys who did that.

I, myself, have never experienced something like that.

"Hey Lanes." I smile at the sudden wave of nostalgia flashing over me. She looks up at me, flipping some of her wavy brown hair over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember Keith?" A knowing grin spreads around her face.

"Keith Thornton. How could I forget about him?"

"We really made a fool out of ourselves back then." I laugh.

She nods. "Yeah we did."

It was back in eighth grade, when Lana and I developed a crush on the same person (once again... We really have the same taste) named Keith.

He was your usual Mr. Popular, the one with the baby face all the girls had a crush on back then, before everyone got attracted by the hot, dangerous and the fit.

In our eyes, and those from many others, he was perfect. Funny, cute, sweet, gentleman...

He participated in a school play, and we - being our desperate self - thought it would be the perfect opportunity to attract his attention.

We signed up for it, and got selected in some mysterious way. It was some part in a theatre about two people falling in love and so on.

Of course we had hoped to get the part of the main character, the girl that got to kiss the prince.

Jealousy had overflowed me when we discovered Lana had gotten that part. She teased me about it non-stop, until our first repetition, when it came to our notice that not Keith was prince charming, but some goofy nerd from our grade.

I laughed my ass off.

I on the other hand had some minor part and so did Keith.

Attracting his attention became our main mission, which we failed. Big time.

On the night of the actual play, Lana suddenly became aware that her first real kiss would be shared with the nerd and she had gotten sick from it, nearly dying from nerves.

"I don't want him to be my first kiss," she screamed hysterically, nearly bursting into tears.

"I know, I know!" Then I got a wonderful idea. "Let's kill him! That way you won't need to kiss him."

She shook her head. "The play is in ten minutes, we won't be able to hide the body."

I rubbed her back. "We'll figure something out."

After make-up and costumes, we had gotten ready and I wasn't able to spot her after that.

The play started and everything went surprisingly well, until the kissing scene that is.

I had to play something in the background, on a castle, the one time I got to be close to Keith.

I gave Lana a supporting thumbs up, while she started to mumble her words. I felt sorry for her, and thought she was stupid.

She knew from the start they'd had to kiss for real at the actual play.

So as I saw her take a deep breath, looking the person who'd soon steal her first kiss in the eye. She looked terrified.

And I was feeling it as well, not only for Lana but for myself, as Keith was standing right next to me.

And then it happened, Keith passed me, touched my skin and my knees went weak.

And I fell.

Off the balcony.

Right before I fell,I saw Lana.

Throwing up.

All over the nerd.

I broke my leg, and got plastered for eight weeks.

Lana got her first kiss a few weeks later, during a game of truth or dare.

And Keith never asked us out to the school bal.

The first week after were hell, since everyone knew about it. Luckily for us, some seventh grader wore his pants so low, teachers were complaining about it nonstop but he'd never listen.

One day one of our craziest teachers, Mister Eden had pulled them off in the middle of the school.

The teacher got suspended for it but thought it was worth it, since the kid wore a belt ever since.

I chuckle at the memory, noticing that Lana's mood has visibly lightened. I reach over towards her to hug her. "I miss you," I say into her shoulder.

"I miss you too."

The door swings open, revealing a black haired creature in the door stand. "Loren I want to- oh uh, hi Lana, uh I didn't know you were busy, I'll uh-" he stumbles, starting to make a turn and leave.

"No, wait." I prevent him from leaving. "What's the matter?"

"Uh nothing, just uh- just wanted to talk to you." He avoids eye contact with the both of us, obviously embarrassed about Lana being here.

"That's alright." Lana starts gathering her things. "I was just about to leave." I shoot her a questioning look which she replies with a wink, before standing up and leaving. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" I nod.

On her way out, she shoves Geoffrey a bit closer towards me, slamming the door shut behind her.

Geoffrey looks devastated and angry, a bomb ready to explode.

"What's wrong?" I put some of my notes aside and sit down at my desk.

He stares up at the ceiling, his Adam's apple clearly visible when he swallows.

"I-I'm having a rough day and uh, I-" He sighs. "I want to tell you about my mom."

"Really? You don't have to tell me Geoffrey, don't feel pressured." This time he looks me straight in the eye.

"I want to tell you about my mom." Followed by a quick, nearly unnoticeable nod, as if he has to convince himself that he really wants to.

"Okay." I walk over to him, taking a seat on the bed in front of him.

"Actually, I uh."

"What?"

"I wanted to go somewhere else." He rubs the back of his neck.

"Oh sure." I try to sound as casual as possible.

"Otherwise I'd crash your room, I'm afraid." He smiles a bit but it was bitter. Certainly not the smile I have grown to love.

I nod, following him as he makes his way downstairs into the garage. I take my Vespa as he takes his motorcycle and follow him down the road.

He drives a lot faster than I do and every now and then, he'd slow down so I can keep up with him.

I have to suck in some extra breaths every time I see him passing cars at a traffic light, as if it were nothing.

At the end, we stop at a place nearby the water, one I briefly remember from a while ago.

I sit down, legs swinging over the edge. He doesn't attempt to sit down, obviously worked up about something. After tossing a few stones in the water, he starts to talk, "I want to tell you Loren, I really do, but I just don't know how."

"Just tell me whatever you want."

He's obviously struggling with the words. "So where do I start?"

I calculate my every word, wanting to guide him through this as good as I could. "Why don't you start with the present," I advise. "You said you were having a rough day?"

He nods. "Ever since I opened up a little to you, I just can't keep my mind of it. Every time I see you I want to do nothing else but tell you, and I just can't. And when I realized mid-exams were coming up I became stressed and I feel like I'm going to fail."

"Why do you think you're going to fail?" He finally sits down. All his pacing is making even me nervous.

"Because I can't concentrate right now, I've got too much things going on inside my head." I shift a bit towards him. His black hair waving in the wind, making him look kind of wild.

"What things?"

"All kind of things, you for example."

Me? He ever thinks about me? My face flusters red and I blink rapidly, hoping he won't notice.

"And my mom of course. My dad. Your mom also." He pauses between each person. "And Lana."

"Lana?" I choke out, feeling like a glass has shattered into million pieces inside of me.

"Yeah, I know she is going to get hurt by Wes, but there's nothing I can to about it, makes me feel powerless." I swallow and suddenly feel like crying for no specific reason.

"You don't know that," I say silently. This seems like the opposite world, he is protecting Lana and I am making Wes look better than he probably deserves.

"He's my friend and all, I'll never approve with the way he treats girls."

A confused expression makes its way onto my face. "You don't?"

"No of course not, do I look like I do?" He seems sincerely offended.

"I don't know, you kind of sleep around an-"

"Whoa, pause there," he interrupts, "I don't sleep around, the only girl I've slept with in ages is Latoya."

I consider it inside of me. The only one the people from school have ever talked about is Latoya when it comes to his sleeping partners; he could be telling the truth.

"Why her?" I question, hating the way I sound so desperate, jealous even.

He clears his throat. "She's hot, she's good in bed." He chuckles a bit. "And she's a cold-hearted bitch." I release a laugh.

"So she really isn't your girlfriend?" He shakes his head widely.

"Oh, hell no." Both of us laugh. "She doesn't have any feelings, plus I'd never date anyone from whom I know isn't faithful." That makes me smile even more.

"So you do have some morals..." I joke carefully.

"Of course I do, I don't always tend to show them, but I actually do." I smile at the sight of his.

"My mom once told me to be like a dog," he says as admiration rises into his eyes.

"A dog?"

He nods and faces me. "She once told me: 'Geoffrey, you can bark and be annoying all you want but you should always, always stay loyal!'"

I release a laugh and so does he. "I was only nine and I laughed my ass off with that comparison but it actually holds a lot of wisdom in it." His expression changes, his smile falls and so does his mask. "And also a lot of painful memories."

He sighs. I know he's about to tell me, as if it were written in the sky, but I promised myself I wouldn't push him. No pressure, just let him do his story. So he starts.

"My dad has never been a loyal man. He's a coward, a big one for that matter. But my mom was oblivious and only wanted to see the good in people. She loved him." He needs to take a deep breath. I put my arm around his shoulder and lay my head down on his shoulder.

"One day I was sick, so the school called her to come pick me up, when- when we got home my dad was there. With another woman. I'll never forget the look on my mom's face." His expression hardens, as if his anger would stop the tears.

"She uhm- she led me upstairs into my room and told me I should play with my uh- cars. I asked what was wrong and what daddy was doing on that other girl. 'Everything will be alright' that's was all she said before going back downstairs. Never thought she'd lie to me." He let out a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. "They started yelling at each other. Just a couple of minutes before everything went quiet and then my dad came upstairs, leavin' my mom downstairs all alone.

"After like an hour, I went downstairs as well. Th-There was a bottle lying on the ground, vodka or something. My mom had drunk almost the whole bottle. I started crying and she soothed me, said it wasn't my fault.

"I called my dad to come down and help me, I wanted to put her into bed but my mom just got mad at me. Yelling that I had to leave her alone. I had never seen her like that before." He stops talking, facing the sky. I place my lips onto his shoulder, leaving a small kiss and even find the courage to take his hand in my own.

"Then she left." Is what comes out after a couple of minutes filled with silence. "She took the car and my dad let her drive away. He should have stopped her." He shakes his head disapprovingly. "He should have stopped her." A tear rolls down my face, as his voice lowers. "I should've fucking stopped her."

I could feel his fist clenching inside my hands, you could literally feel the anger that was running through his veins and suddenly all the sadness has been washed away.

"I should've stopped her," he repeats in a tone that held so much despise in it.

"But I didn't." He chuckles humourlessly. He stands up and takes a few steps closer to the edge. "This," he points towards the water, "this is exactly where she drove herself into complete destruction.This is where she drowned, the last place she saw before the water engulfed her because I wasn't strong enough to stop her." More tears start brimming in my eye lids, as I manage to breath through the lumb in my throat. "She, she took her last breath," he says suddenly running out of breath, "because my dad fucked up."

And then he crashes down.

His knees start to tremble as his arms and shoulders are hanging low, waiting for gravity to make him collapse and hit the ground.

It's only a matter of seconds before I have gotten up to my feet, racing towards him and keeping him on his feet as well as I can.

I support his weight on my shoulders, holding my arms tightly around him, rubbing his back gently.

"I fucked up, Mom," he pants. "Please forgive me."