I don't hear a peep from Jamie for days. I can tell he's avoiding me and to say it doesn't affect me in any way would be a gargantuan lie. My words seemed to hit a brick wall. He wasn't interested in my help before, and he certainly isn't interested now. It's very possible that I've just made things worse, but I can't help it. I've got a burning need to do something, and my swirling thoughts and achy heart won't allow me to just let it go.

Jamie isn't in school on Wednesday, but I don't bother asking his friends where he is. I'm not that needy. Truthfully, I don't really care where he is. My intentions are not to smother him—though it might be too late for that—they're to be there for him. So, I decide to push him to the furthest corners of my mind.

The rest of the week goes by slowly, and I spot Jamie here and there on Thursday and Friday but never make any attempt to speak with him. At this point, I'm not sure who's avoiding who. Somehow we just naturally gravitate away from each other, and it seems to be very intentional for the both of us. I'm worried about him, but that doesn't give me the right to follow him around like a babysitter in case something goes wrong. So instead, I let him go.

It's not until the following week that things start to change. I notice him sitting alone during lunch that Wednesday afternoon. His friends are either all conveniently absent, or they ditched him. I can't decide which is worse.

The fact that he looks so torn up and lonely is what has my sympathetic heart urging me towards him. I know this is basically suicide. He's going to destroy me the moment he looks up and finds me hovering over him with sad eyes. I might even make everything worse, but I have to try. It's in my nature to want to help the hurting. Maybe that's my gift. I wasn't blessed with a talent for singing, or dancing, or acting, but my heart knows when another heart is in need.

I try to wipe the pity off my face and instead replace it with a smile. I refuse to let him know I feel bad for him.

"Where are your friends?" I inquire, sliding into a chair across from him.

He looks startled by the sudden disruption for a moment, and then a scowl falls into place.

"Why do you care?" he says, his voice distant and uninterested.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

I just smile, realizing that neither one of us has bothered to answer a single question, and there's no way I'm going to be the first.

"Can't I just talk to you without you being suspicious of my intentions?"

"Um, no," he says decidedly. "I thought I was pretty clear about my feelings towards you. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Maybe I don't want to," I answer.

He shoves a cheese puff into his mouth, not bothering to look at me or even acknowledge my question as he chews.

"You're annoying."

Something about the way he mutters this has a smile turning my lips upwards.

"Listen, Jamie Gallagher, I'm going to be embarrassingly honest with you for a minute." I clear my throat, encouraging my heart to relax as I prepare my mind on how to word this. I'd told Justine and Rosa that I'd make it clear to Jamie that I wasn't after him out of a lovesick infatuation, but I never told them that I wasn't going to be entirely honest.

Jamie glances up and I know he's just a smidgen curious to know what I've got to say.

"I'm not trying to be a creep," I say. "I'm not trying to annoy you or make you angry, and I'm definitely not trying to make you hate me."

"Oh, I know that," he interrupts, earning a look of surprise from me. "In fact, I think your intentions are quite the opposite."

"How so?"

A cruel smile parts his lips, his teeth gleaming viciously at me as he lets the truth out. "I think you are trying to woo me." He throws the term at me as if it's poisonous. "You like it when people have to depend on you. You like to be the pillar that people rely on. The fact that I suspect you have romantic feelings for me just gives you all the more motive. I think you like me and you're hurt that I feel nothing for you, so you're trying to weasel your way into my life in hopes of showing your true colors and magically making me fall for you." He looks so proud of himself that I can't help but wipe that smug smile off his face.

"True," I agree, not even bothering to hide my feelings. "I do like you. Big deal. You think I'm going to use your vulnerability as a way of coaxing you into liking me back?" I'm disgusted with the very thought and I'm sure Jamie can see that on my face. "The truth is, you don't really know me anymore. I'd never use someone else's weakness for my own gain. I just thought you could use a friend. I'm not out to ruin you or to cause you more guilt, and I'm most certainly not trying to save you."

"So you pity me?" He spits the words out with distaste, his brows creasing in contained rage.

"Of course!" I nearly yell the words at him. "How could I not? You're missing a leg and a boy is dead. To not pity you would be to have a heart of stone. That doesn't mean I'm going to treat you any differently, but yes, I'm sorry for what you're going through. I just hoped you'd let me in. I'd like it if you gave me a chance." My words soften as I glance up at Jamie. He looks taken aback by my lack of a filter. I don't always tell people what they want to hear, but I'm pretty good at being honest and telling them what they need to hear.

The silence stretches between us as we continue to watch each other. I'm tempted to drop my gaze and walk away, but then he speaks.

"They left," he says, his shoulders slumping inwards as he shoves another puff into his mouth. He chews for a moment before looking up at me. "They were feeling pizza today."

"So they just ditched you?" I can't hide the disapproval from my tone.

Jamie notices and does his best to defend his friends. "I told them to go. I don't want to be the guy who holds my friend's back from having fun."

"Why didn't you just go with them?" I ask, my curiosity on full display.

He drops his eyes to the table before shrugging. "I don't know." All resentment towards me seems to have been forgotten as Jamie realizes his own hurt. I can see it on his face. Where I'm pretty decent at keeping my emotions in check, Jamie is not. "I just didn't want to slow them down, I guess."

"Right." There's obvious doubt in my response, but Jamie doesn't seem bothered by it. "Well," I start to say, "you can always sit with me and my friends. We eat in the gym every Tuesday and Thursday, but every other day we eat lunch over there." I point towards our table and he turns slightly to follow my finger.

He nods once, his attitude sullen. I feel my heart crack for the damaged boy in front of me. I want so badly to just erase his pain, but I sense he'd never allow it. I just hate watching people suffer. As much as he hates the guilt, he's got too much pride to hand it over to someone else. Which is why my offer is so hard for him to accept. His idea of me coming to the rescue indicates he needs help and he doesn't want it.

We've got a long way to go, but I sense a breakthrough today. Jamie is no longer pushing me away. He's not exactly letting me in either, but he seems content to just let me be. Maybe I've exhausted him into acceptance. I'll take that as success.

We sit in silence the remainder of lunch, but the moment the bell rings, he's grabbing his crutches off the floor, slinging his bag over his shoulders, and hobbling away. He doesn't glance back or mutter a 'goodbye' and a sliver of sadness creeps into my chest before being squashed by my rational thoughts. It's going to take a little more than one halfway decent conversation to get Jamie Gallagher to open up.

Guess I'm in for quite a ride.

The next day is entirely uneventful. I don't think I even spot Jamie in the halls. There's a high chance that he's not even in school today, but I wouldn't know. I do my best to block him out for once. He's been consuming my thoughts recently and I need to get over it. The fact that he practically hates me should have my crush dwindling, but it doesn't. If anything, his misery makes me like him even more.

It sounds silly, but I honestly don't like him for the way he's been treating me. He's been awful. But, I see how he treats his friends and other members of the student body and he still has that all-consuming smile in place. He's either a marvelous actor, or he genuinely feels happier around people. He's an extrovert though, so I can see him finding normalcy in being around other people... just not me.

People seem to have moved on from his accident. Now he's just the boy with crutches. His missing leg doesn't even seem to affect anyone... well, except for his friends. It's almost as if they don't know what to do with him now that he's—for lack of a better word—impaired. The five of them still hang out during every free moment of school, but on certain days, I'll find that Jamie is alone at lunch. He has yet to take me up on my offer to join our table, and I'm not about to ask again.

I've been tempted to confront Clarice about it on several occasions, but with each day that passes, I lose motivation to do so. Anytime I see his friends with him, my heart relaxes knowing that they haven't completely abandoned him.

As the days tick by, Jamie seems to perk up. The sulky attitude that I'd grown accustomed to seems to be dwindling. It's not until Monday of the last week of school that Jamie steps into the building without his crutches. Most people are staring, so I don't feel like I have to hide my surprise when I see him.

He plays it off well and keeps his cool as he makes his way towards his locker. He greets a few familiar faces, but other than that, it seems like he's trying to downplay the entire scene. I get it... I think. He hated the attention before when his stump was on full display, but I imagine he might hate this more because he's finally got two legs—he finally looks 'normal'—and yet, people still stare. It's as if he can never hide. The only way he can escape is to leave this place, which could be months, weeks, or even just days away.

My chest shrivels inward as that realization comes into full bloom. Jamie Gallagher might be leaving the moment school ends. I mean, if I were him, that would be my goal. But I can't help the disappointment that I feel. It's as if I've failed. Though, the truth is, he probably never really needed me to begin with.

Maybe he was right about me. Maybe I simply wanted to be needed and now that it's clear he doesn't require my help, my job is done. Seems it was done before I ever even got started.

An emotion I can't quite decipher swims into existence and I feel my face fall. I like Jamie—I really like him. All this time I was trying to push my own feelings away and be the friend I thought he so desperately needed. But I can't deny the truth: a small part of me hoped and wished he'd see something in me. I had hoped he'd eventually want me.

I try to pull myself together, but when I glance back up and find Jamie's eyes on mine, it's impossible. It's as if the realization of what's to come has pushed me over the edge; my lips won't even pretend to be happy. Worried that he'll sense something's off, I turn around, press my locker shut, and disappear down the hallway.

The best thing to do for now is to distance myself from Jamie as much as possible. I hate to admit how attached I've grown to him—all while watching him hate everything about me—but I can't keep doing this to myself.

Our last conversation seemed so hopeful, but Jamie still never took any initiative to make any changes between us. I'd smile or wave and he'd simply nod an acknowledgment and turn the other way. I wasn't wanted and it was time to accept that.

I've finally resorted to the fact that we're done—I'm done. My attempts to make up for the past, to be that crutch for a needy soul, to kill off my own wants so I could experience the joy of simply helping someone without anything in return—those attempts are meaningless now. It was a waste of time and energy, it seems. Rather than help, I think I only managed to hinder things between us.

So, what I'm not expecting is for Jamie to find me sitting outside on the school steps during our free period. He always spends this hour in the library, so the fact that he's out here now means he put effort into finding me. I should feel flattered, but I can't muster up enough positivity to do so.

I remain focused on the homework in my lap as he slowly gets himself adjusted. It's clear he's still getting accustomed to his new leg, but overall, he's coping really well. I'm happy for him. Having his independence back is obviously doing wondrous things to his personality. I've even spotted him laughing a few times throughout the day. I'd almost forgotten what that sounded like, but it's now more beautiful than it'd ever been before—like silk against my eardrums.

Gosh, I hate myself for loving his laugh so much.

"Hey," he says after a moment of silence.

I can feel his eyes on me and I know he's curious about what's going on in my head. This is it then. Time to pull my emotions back into that little invisible container that resides deep in my chest, and pretend to be fine.

I tilt my head to the side, my ebony hair falling into my face as I glance up at him. Brushing back the slick strands, I smile. What I'm not expecting is for him to return the gesture. My heart explodes into a swarm of bees—stinging and teasing me with the absurd meaning behind his sudden shift in behavior. That smile?... it's for me this time. My chest aches, knowing that this is nothing for him.

"Hi," I respond, feeling vulnerable for the first time. I've always been the one in control and now it's like my control box is broken and all my plans are leaking out in a flood of chaos. I don't understand anything anymore. I don't understand my feelings, and I most certainly don't understand Jamie's abrupt mood swing.

We haven't spoken in days, and if I recall correctly, that conversation was not pretty. He basically tolerated me until he could escape... and now he's seeking me out. Why?

"What are you doing?" he asks, leaning to peer over my shoulder at the books in my lap.

"Studying," I answer, closing my book and showing him the cover of my Physics textbook.

"Oh." His brows shoot up as he puckers his lips in distaste. "I definitely don't envy you there."

I'm not sure what Jamie's up to, but I don't handle suspense well and I hate beating around the bush. If he's got something to say, he needs to just say it. Setting my books aside, I turn to face him full on. He seems startled by my sudden shift and pulls away from me slightly.

"Jamie," I say patiently, a pleasant smile on my face. "What are you doing here?"

He must not be used to people being so forward with him. Or maybe he's just not used to girl's being this forward. I'm not sure what it is, but it takes him a moment to reign in his surprise and gather his thoughts.

"Sort of had a revelation the other day, and now I'm feeling horrible," he explains as he fidgets with his artificial knee. "I noticed you didn't seem too happy earlier. I assume that's my fault. Since you've been nothing but kind to me, I figured it was my turn to check on you."

"And you suddenly care now, why?" None of my words are harsh, but I'm also not keen on sugarcoating what I'm trying to say.

He lets out a heavy sigh, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares at the ground between his feet. "You're not going to believe me," he begins, tilting his head just enough to send me a quick glance, "but, I've always cared."

"Mmmh-Hmm." I feel the urge to laugh at his statement, but I remain sober—though I can't contain the teasing grin on my lips.

"I mean it," he defends. "I blamed you for a long time, which I know is ridiculous. I knew it at the time that it was ridiculous, but I was just so miserable. I felt so guilty. I mean..." he pauses to swallow and I watch him pinch the bridge of his nose. "I killed a boy." His words are so quiet that I have a hard time making them out, but I hear it nonetheless.

"Well," I start to say, picking my words wisely. "As much as I disagree with you—because honestly, the only person who should feel guilty in all this is that boy's stupid mother. Why the heck would anyone let their five-year-old ride his bike along the town's busiest street without supervision? Either she didn't know or she's a complete moron—But, I understand that none of that means a thing to you. So, I'm just going to be blunt—"

"Shocking," Jamie interrupts, his tone both bored and teasing.

I glare at him before continuing. "I don't think you'll ever not feel guilty."

Jamie frowns at me for a moment before nodding. "Yeah," he says. "That's my fear. How does a person live with this feeling forever?"

"I have a suggestion..." I say, uncertainty coating my words.

"What?"

"You're gonna hate it, but I honestly believe it might help."

"Okay?"

"I think maybe you'd find some peace if you spoke to the family," I say, my mouth tugged to the side as I chew uneasily on the inside of my cheek.

"What family?" he asks, eyes wide. "The boy's?"

I nod, still chewing my cheek. I fully expect him to shoot down my idea without giving it a moment's thought, but instead, he drops his head back down and stares at the ground. I watch him for a moment, waiting, and then he begins to nod his head slowly as he looks back up at me.

"As sucky as that suggestion is," he says, "I think you might be right."

I'm shocked, to say the least, but I hide it well. Instead, I smirk, proud that I've finally cracked the broken boy. He sees my expression and rolls his eyes playfully.

"So," I find myself asking, "what's with the change of heart?"

He shrugs once, picking up a small twig and attempting to carve something into the pavement. "I decided I couldn't live the way I was," he admits. "I was headed to a very bad place, and so with a lot of mental pep talks, I finally forced myself to focus on the good things." He runs his hand over his new leg. "Getting this thing definitely helped."

"Yeah," I agree, smiling. "I noticed."

He laughs, once again turning my stomach into a swarm of emotions.

"I'm sorry," he says, chucking the small stick into the grass beside us and turning to face me. "I was a complete jerk to you and you were only ever nice to me. I'm sorry for hurting you."

I glance into the distance, unable to meet the sincerity in his eyes.

"Do you think—" he cuts himself off, which gains my attention. I turn to study his expression, waiting for him to continue. "Do you think we could try this friendship thing again?"

I smile, unable to hide my delight and then nod once. "Of course."

"Great," he says. "Now, help me up."

I laugh as I stand to offer him a hand. "I thought you'd be an expert at this walking thing by now."

"Me too," he chuckles. "Me too. Seems that walking with a piece of metal for a leg is a little harder than I first assumed."

"Sure it is," I tease, elated by the feel of his hand in my own. But, all too soon, his fingers are slipping from mine and he's turning away, the sensation of skin against skin seeming to go completely unnoticed by him.

"Hey," he suddenly says, stopping at the top of the steps and turning to face me. "Thank you."

"For what?" I ask, not sure what he's referring to.

"For being real with me," he says. "For not treating me differently even though I am." I start to protest but he shrugs it off. "Even my friends can't see past my missing leg. It means a lot that you never seemed to see me for who I was on the outside." He pauses, almost turning around but then thinking better of it. "Actually, thank you for seeing past the ugly on the inside too. I had a lot of darkness in me for a while there—I still do and it might take awhile to get through—but somehow you saw through it." He smiles for a moment before speaking again. "Seems you've got some kind of emotional night vision or something. You saw through all the gunk. You saw hope in me that even I never saw."

I'm startled by his impromptu monologue, but rather than make a big deal of it, I wave it off. "Oh, it was nothing," I tell him, though I'm unable to hide the appreciation in my voice and in my expression.

He grins in response and then turns back around. His hand is on the door handle when I realize that a moment like this might never happen again. I'm not willing to let something that's just getting good end already. Now that he's actually being civil, I can't just let him walk out of my life. If he leaves in a few days or weeks, I want to know that I didn't miss out on something great with him while I still had the chance.

"Hey," I belt, stopping him just as he's stepping into the school building. "I'll see you Wednesday, in our usual spot."

His smile is all the answer I need, and finally, we're right where we first left off.

---

Oooo!!! We're making progress!!! Did you likey this chapter? Maybe you could, uh... show it some love??? 

Thanks!