I don't think about Timmy, or even see him, besides a blur of neon in my periphery until lunch. I'm dumping my unused books into my locker when someone dances his way around the edge of its door.

Does this kid ever slow down?

"Hey!"

In his hand, he grips a purple beanie.

"It's lunch, right?"

I nod and continue shoving books into the small metal box.

"Do you mind if I, you know, sit with you? I haven't really met anyone else."

I'd point out the group of theater kids laughing their way across the hall, but his company doesn't sound like something I'd mind.

I may seem like I don't want to be around anyone, but after being in a publicly-exposed relationship for almost two years, I get lonely too. Really lonely.

I guess. My shoulders move up and down to resemble somewhat of a shrug.

"Alright! Cool!"

I shrink under the attention.

"Don't you eat?" he questions when my locker slams shut with nothing besides a binder full of poetry and a pencil resting in my backpack.

Not really.

Justin would be disappointed.

It's been a full twenty four hours since I last ate, without even a complaint from my stomach to remind me. Food doesn't appeal to me anymore.

That's a symptom of depression, yes, I realize that. I'm not going to deny that I'm aware of the existence of my depression, because that would be a lie. I used to be on medication for it, goddammit.

I haven't swallowed the little white pill in more days than I can count on my hands and toes. Once you stop for that long, it doesn't tend to work anymore.

"Where do you usually sit? I saw a bunch of tables in the cafeteria on my way to find you but I didn't really picture you sitting in there. You don't really seem to like people, do you? I thought we established this yesterday. But you must have had friends before, because you don't run from me or anything. You don't seem scared of me. Just a little annoyed, but I can't tell since you don't talk. Do I annoy you?"

You do enough talking for me, you and Justin. Don't you ever slow down?

"Sometimes I can't tell if you want me to stop. But I get the feeling if you really minded, you'd let me know in your own special way. Am I right?"

Listening to him takes my mind of everything else. At least I don't have to focus on the horrible images my brain is throwing at me.

You keep on talking, I don't mind.

"Are you mute, Damian? Because that would explain why you don't speak," he throws out and follows me out around the back of the school where only the bravest couples would dare to venture. Out here, the misfit cliques dot the campus. "But the way the lady in the office talked about you made it seem like you used to speak. She almost made you sound like you used to be happy."

Like you have no idea, kid. I used to be the happiest person in this goddamn town.

"Were you happy, Damian? Did Justin make you happy?"

I admire his fearlessness. But the question kills me on the inside. It takes every ounce of self-control not to break down into a million pieces, to keep my composure from shattering like a mirror onto the ground.  Seven years of bad luck.  

I'm suffocating from the happy memories, and choking on the realization of all the lost memories which will never be made.  

Yes.

He sees me smile. "You loved him, huh? A whole lot."

A whole lot.

We sit. He opens a can of Monster and takes a sip. I turn the energy drink down. There's why he's so hyper all the time.

"Monster's my favorite. Actually, I'm not supposed to have it on account of my medication, but it doesn't really do much so I don't even bother taking it half the time. And it's soooooo good, I just can't stop. Have you ever seen me in the morning before I have my caffeine? It's not pretty. I'm all like...depressed." He bites his tongue. "Sorry."

It's cool. Keep talking.

"I um...I like it here, I guess. It's a little rainy, but that doesn't bother me. I love all kinds of weather."

I'm getting soft. I actually want this boy to stay. I don't want him to leave, ever.

What is happening to me?

He pauses to take another sip and a deep breath of the Oregon air.

Where did you move from? I want to ask him. I want to break my vigil. My words actually have emotion behind them, instead of the careless fluff we fill our everyday conversations with.

Ninety nine percent of the things people talk about are totally meaningless.

One hundred percent of the things that fall from Timmy's mouth are pointless, but he's passionate about everything he says, and it makes me passionate too.

"Do you like music?" he asks.

Who doesn't?

"Do you have an iPod or something? Something with all your favorite bands?"

I open my jacket to an Aiden t-shirt.

"Very nice, very nice." Delicate fingers trace over the design. "I like them. I mean, some of their stuff is a little dark, but William Control is pretty cute and I can understand why kids relate. That's why we like music, huh? Because we can relate?"

I can't think of any girls around here who've kissed another girl besides the open lesbian couple.

"My favorite is Breathe Carolina. Do you know them? They're happy, but still have that dark edge. And David Schmitt is so hot..." Timmy blushes.

Yeah? Do you listen to Brokencyde and Breathe Electric? Justin liked those bands. He was into anything that could be happy and still fit into something a kid with spiky hair would listen to. Me, I liked the darker stuff. Screamo; Post-Hardcore; Punk.

Suicide Silence was a bit more my style.

"I also like uh...let's see, Breathe Electric and Show me the Skyline. And do you know Lights? I love Lights!"

She's fairly decent.

"Um...um...um...there's so many! There's so much good music, you know? It's hard to name all of it. My iPod's almost full!"

As to emphasize his point, he extracts the neon green Nano from his pocket and places it in my palms. I turn the thin metal canister around in my hands. On the back, there's an inscription running across the top.

I promise you my forever. Love, Zachary.

Zachary. Oh my God.

Timmy catches me reading over the words. "Zachary." he forces a smile.

He loves Zachary the way I love Justin, I can tell. His fists ball up by his sides and his empty grasp seems lonely. It's the kind of love that never dies.

I turn it back around, and flip the lock button. Linkin Park is playing; Numb. Meteora was their best album, if you ask me. He's got the entire twelve songs, but repeat is on. God only knows how many times he's heard this song in the last week.

I hate God. He's an asshole.

I hand Timmy his possession back. He slips it into the back pocket of his skinnies.

"Zachary loved Linkin Park. We saw them in concert once." He's struggling to keep the smile. "It was something you'd never forget, trust me there."

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. He hands me his schedule, and our next classes match.

I don't tell him this, but just point him in the right path. Giving him directions to the sky wouldn't be helpful out here. It would only be inconsiderate.

He obviously had to leave Zachary behind.

"Thanks, Damian." His arms leave their customary squeeze and he's off. "Have a great next period," he shouts on his way.

I can't make it until two forty five. My backpack rests over my shoulders, straps loose enough to allow it to hang over the pockets in my jeans. I need to see Justin now.

Two Conversed feet follow my heart on its path towards the dead.