"Sorry," Ritchie said, "I ain't got nothin' else."

"It's okay," I assured him. I was wearing his shirt, and I would've been wearing his jeans, too, but they were too big on me.

The shirt was a plaid button up, and I had a white undershirt on under it, too. It was pretty comfy, and not too big on me. It would suffice.

When we got to the drive-in, he gave the guy two quarters for our admission. We met Darrel at the door, and they went to talk to their friends, so I followed.

Then, we found some seats and settled in to watch the movie. About halfway through - Darrel's eyes were stuck to the screen, following Audrey across it - Ritchie asked if I wanted something to eat. I handed him a five dollar bill, "Surprise me."

"That's too much," he said.

"It's only five dollars," I replied.

"That's too much. I got it. Don't worry."

And he put the money back in my hands.

I sat there, only a seat between me and Darrel. For a while, all was well. Then, I felt a click, and trash rolled up (not Trashy, but - somehow - worse).

"Hey, baby," it said.

"Please, leave me alone," I immediately replied. Darrel wasn't paying any attention. "Your boyfriend gonna get me?" it asked. "Ritchie ain't got a tough bone in his body."

"And you don't have a decent bone in yours," I snapped.

It scoffed, "Babe-"

"Don't call me that," I cut it off. It seemed to be getting annoyed. When it pulled me closer, I pushed it. Right into the dirt. "Please, leave me alone," I said, but my tone contradicted the "please."

Darrel finally looked over.

Then, it jerked me up by my arm.

So I beat the crap out of it. I kept punching and kicking, not caring what I hit. It tried to fight back, but failed. Darrel was trying to pull us apart.

When it was down, I stopped. Everyone was staring at me, even Darrel, who had his hands on my shoulders. Then I noticed Ritchie.

The whole time, I felt periodic clicks and saw people. But it was overwhelming now. A million came at once, and an immense pain formed in my stomach. My scream cracked the air as I fell to the dirt.

Ritchie was at my side immediately. I could just see him through tears and people and places and things flashing in my face. It felt like every stomach ache I'd ever had and will have at once. They kept getting faster and more frequent, and I could hear them in my ears by now. I could only yell out in pain, and I couldn't see or hear a thing. The only thing I could I feel was Ritchie's hands on my shoulders. I was vaguely aware of Darrel on the other side of me.

The scent of dirt and grass was present, but I was more focused on the nuclear bomb going off in my stomach.

I was a mess.

I could tell people were gathering around me and it, who was still on the ground. The clicks kept coming.

Ritchie picked me up and took off. The whole thing only lasted about half a minute, but it felt like half a century. Clicks continued as he ran.

He ran me into an alley and sat me down, and the clicks started deteriorating. I'd stopped yelling blocks ago. When it was over, I felt like crap. I started sobbing into his shirt, not caring about how well I knew him. I gripped his jacket and cried. He hugged me, worried about hurting me. I couldn't feel worse.

That was the second worst pain I'd ever felt in my life.

When I was all cried out, I sat against the wall. "Claire," he started, "what happened?"

"Pain," I said. My voice was almost gone.

So he took me back to his house, put me on the couch, and took the button up shirt off me. Then, I saw how dirty it was. It was stained with dirt, mud, grass, and even some blood - maybe mine, maybe its.

"I'm sorry," I said hoarsely. I reminded myself of when I was running away from Henry. Back in 2005. I should go back, I thought, It's been two days. But I couldn't move. At least I couldn't will myself to.

Ritchie came back with a cold cloth and pressed it to my forehead. "You sure can knock a guy out," he chuckled.

"I can?" I asked. I was completely exhausted and delusional.

"Yeah," he replied, "and stop talkin'; you'll lose your voice."

The cloth felt cold as ice, but I was so exhausted, I wouldn't have cared if I was dropped in the Arctic.

"Hey," Ritchie whispered, "I know you're fast asleep, but listen for a second." He took a deep breath, and spilled his guts. "I know this is pretty weird, but I want to tell you 'cause I might not get the chance.

"I've been thinkin', and I think that I like you... like, really like you. I mean, I've dated a few gals in the past, and every single time... it never ended on good terms. It's like I fell too fast and busted my lip or something 'cause they didn't wanna catch me. Sounds pretty stupid, I know... I wouldn't tell Darrel, 'cause he'd laugh at me. I guess, what I'm kind of trying to ask here is... Will you catch me?"

I tried to tell him I would. And I also felt bad because I wasn't supposed to hear that.

"That was probably the most cliché thing that has ever come out of my mouth. Gosh, I hope you're asleep. I'll - I'll have to think of something else today when I do tell you... if I do."

I tried to open my eyes, but it hurt my head. There weren't any lights on, but I could still see him looking out the window for a split second.

When he removed the cloth from my head, I think I saw blood on it. Must've cut my head, I thought. Then, I was taken down by sleep.