"Your dad?"

Stacey stared at what had been the lovable, wild boy with a gleam of shock glowing in her eyes. Jesse moved his head to a nod, almost like he was forcing himself. She craved to hear more, yet knew better than to ask.

However, he said, "He died... just a year ago. When I was sixteen."

"What... what...?" Stacey stumbled over her own words, unable to think if it was appropriate.

"What happened?" Jesse asked for her. When she mumbled a yes in reply, he quietly said, "Well, what happened is the reason why I hardly speak to people."

"You were this quiet for a year?" she said in a hushed voice.

"Mhm," he murmured. He gazed at the ground, suddenly finding his shoes rather interesting.

"Jess... you don't have to say more if you don't want to," she assured him quickly.

He shook his head. "No, I have to. I already started, so I may as well finish. But..." He forced his head back up, anxiously staring at her. "Will... will you listen?"

"O-of course," she said, hiding the tone of shock that nearly burst between her lips.

Silence... Intense silence. The sound of the ocean waves dropping against the sand of the beach was now faint, and the strong summer wind had toned down to a much more gentle touch. The dew on the fleecy, viridescent grass had begun to dry up.

Stacey watched Jesse intently, patiently waiting for him to speak. Maybe, perhaps, he thought it was a bad idea to suddenly speak of his deceased father for the first time in a whole year. Maybe he thought she couldn't be trusted to listen.

But she was merely paranoid for thinking such thoughts.

"We had a leaky roof," he began with slight reluctance. "It was raining the day before, and it was... pretty bad. So... we decided to try and fix it up." He pressed his lips into a thin line, seeming to be wondering if he should continue.

"Jess, you don't have to-"

"My dad was already up on the roof," he continued, cutting Stacey off. "I was still on the ladder... and I was terrified. It was too high for me to handle. So Dad told me to just stay down there. Said he'd tell me if he needed anything. I wanted to help, but... well...

"Anyway, we went into talking about my mom... since she died when I was twelve. Dad couldn't find his hammer or something, so he told me he was coming back down. When he got up..." Jesse visibly flinched, his blue eyes pooling with guilt and culpability. With a long breath, he said, "... He tripped over the tool box and... fell."

Stacey winced sympathetically. She found herself gluing her eyes to the ground, suddenly unable to look Jesse in the eyes. "Jesse... I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Jesse breathed out a small, quiet laugh. But it was much different than the laugh he had let out just ten minutes ago. This time, it was humourless and held such bitterness. "If I wasn't so damn afraid of heights... he would still be here."

"No!" Stacey gasped. "Jesse, you can't seriously think it's your fault!"

"It is," he said coldly. "If I was up there with him, I could've found that hammer or something. If I hadn't been so scared..."

"Jess, if you were up there and you were the one trying to find the hammer, you might've fallen too," she croaked.

"Better me than him."

"Don't talk like that! Jess, this could've happened to anyone! And..." Her voice trailed off. With a deep breath, she said, "I wouldn't have found a friend if it were you."

"You hardly know me."

"I know that you're a good guy, Jess. That's all I need to know. If I didn't think you were a good person, I wouldn't be here, telling you that you shouldn't blame yourself. And besides... Bad things happen to the best of us, right?"

The guilt that consumed Jesse's eyes slowly drained, and his shoulders relaxed. "I guess," he said silently.

"Are you convinced?" Stacey asked. "I could go on forever, you know."

"No, I think I'm good," he replied. He stared at the younger girl standing before him in wonder, then breathed, "Jesus Christ..."

"What?" she questioned.

"You know... I used to talk a lot," he said. "I used to talk as much as I am right now. When Dad died, I just stopped and completely shut myself away from everyone else... And then you come, and I start talking again." He eyed her, a slight look of awe streaming across his features. "Stacey, you're... kind of strange."

Stacey blushed. "Strange as in...?"

"Why do you want to be friends with me?" he inquired. "Everyone else just pass me by. Why did you stick by me?"

She shrugged. "Because... I find you a bit strange too," she replied.

"I hope that's not a bad thing."

"Nope... Not at all."

The day began to grow darker; the sun proceeded to lose its shine, and it soon glowed a bright crimson, painting the upper atmosphere with a shade of orange and a tint of purple.

"Oh... Should we get back?" Stacey said, glancing around her and taking in on her surroundings. "I have to meet up with my mom at the café."

"Can I... walk you there?" Jesse asked timidly.

"If you want to, then sure," she responded.

The two friends walked off the grass and started down the sidewalk trail once again. They rubbed their shoes against the pavement to scrape off the wet grass that stuck on the bottom. After minutes of this, Jesse spoke up.

"I haven't laughed like that in so long," he murmured. "It was weird."

"Good weird?" Stacey asked.

"I would so say, yeah."

Ten minutes later, they were in front of Anne's café. Stacey turned to him, dearly wishing she could spend more time with him and hear him laugh for all eternity.

"Same time tomorrow?" she asked.

"Got nothing better to do," Jesse replied.

She arched an eyebrow. "Well, alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hang on," he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She turned back to him in surprise. "Huh?"

"I just... thought I'd say..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably and shyly gazed at her. "Um... Thanks."

"Thanks?" she repeated. "For what?"

"For talking some sense into me," he mumbled. "I never thought I'd get over my fear." He looked her up and down, examining her from head to toe. "Stacey... When I said that you were strange... I didn't mean it in a bad way."

"I know," she smiled. "I didn't either."

He paused for a split second, then returned the smile. "I'm glad you're my friend," he said.

"Well, so am I!" she said brightly.

"You go on inside," he said, seemingly happy with her response. "See you soon, ok?"

She nodded vigorously and bade him a final goodbye. She spun the doorknob and entered the café to meet up with Anne after waving to her new friend.

***

At around seven in the evening, Stacey and Anne headed home after closing up the café. They hardly spoke two words to each other the whole way back, which worried Stacey deeply.

When they arrived home, they headed to the kitchen for a late dinner, seeing as they had to skip it due to the busy day at the café. Stacey brought out two dishes for herself and Anne and set them on the table.

"Stacey," Anne spoke up. "I think we need to talk."

"Talk?" Stacey repeated. "About what?"

"About that friend you said you were with earlier."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Who was it?"

Stacey remained silent for a few moments. She grasped onto the edge of the table behind her and leaned against it. "Jesse Miller," she admitted.

Anne let out an exasperated sigh. "Just as I thought," she said.

"Why?" Stacey asked. "What's the problem?"

"Stace, I don't want you hanging out with that boy anymore," Anne said firmly.

"What?" Stacey said, startled. "Why not? What's so wrong with him?"

"I don't want to say," Anne said, turning away from her to heat up the leftover stew they had the other night.

"Well, I want to know," Stacey said, her voice sharp. "Otherwise, I'll just keep seeing him."

Anne whirled around to glower at her stubborn daughter with her arms folded so tightly, it looked as though it would permanently remain that way. "You really want to know?"

"I need to know your reason."

"Fine," Anne snapped, her eyes hard and fierce against Stacey. "There's been a rumour going around for about six months."

"You listen to rumours?" Stacey sighed, holding back the urge to roll her eyes.

"I don't normally believe them, but I am careful nonetheless," Anne said.

"So what's this so-called rumour you heard?"

"That boy," she said, going up to Stacey's face and forcing her to look her in the eyes, "does drugs."

Stacey blinked. "Drugs?"

"That's right."

She almost laughed. "How am I supposed to believe that?" she snorted.

Anne narrowed her eyes. "You seem like you're close with him already," she said coolly. "Why don't you ask him? That is, if he doesn't lie to you. But who knows?"

And with that, she turned her back on Stacey and continued heating up their dinner. Stacey stared at the back of her blonde head in shock. But she shook the feeling off.

It was only a rumour. Jesse was a pleasant boy to be around. Of course, he had built a wall around himself and kept it that way for a year to keep people away. But it had started to crumble. He had started to open up to Stacey. He had began to show his true colours. There was no way he could have done such horrid things.

But how could she know for sure? After all, she had only met him a few days ago.

No... No, he couldn't have.

... Could he?

***

Jesse smiled when he saw Stacey heading towards him the next day at the park. He shifted to the right to make room for her to sit and placed his acoustic down to the side carefully, like it was made of glass.

"You came," he said, almost sounding relieved.

"Of course," she chuckled. "Why wouldn't I come?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. We had an interesting day yesterday after all."

"I guess that's a good word for it," she grinned. "Hope I didn't interrupt your playing or anything."

"Nope," he replied. "I don't even know what to play. Any requests?"

"I don't know," she giggled. "I mean... I like Elton John... The Beatles... Neil Diamond..."

"All of which are great music choices."

As they spoke of some of their favourite artists in music, the girl that kindly stopped by at their bench a couple days ago, Bonnie, passed them by while shooting both of them a dirty glare. Stacey watched her as she marched away towards a group of girls thoughtfully.

"So what's the deal with you and her?" she asked.

"Who? Bonnie?" Jesse said. When she nodded, he rolled his eyes. "Just last year in school, we promised each other we'd start going out during the summer holidays since we were always overloaded with work and had no time to spend together. But I caught her kissing some other guy just before the break, so I assumed she wasn't interested anymore. I guess when she saw you with me, she got a bit jealous, thinking you were my girlfriend or something."

Stacey felt her cheeks heat up. "I-I see," she stuttered, her vocals raising an octave higher.

She and Jesse stared over at the swing set. The park was particularly empty today, with only a few kids running around with their parents.

Jesse began to strum at his guitar gently and slowly, his eyes filling up with deep compassion for the instrument. Stacey watched him, a distant look clear in her eyes. Her mind wandered off to the argument she and Anne had gotten into last night. She began to fiddle with her hands absentmindedly, her teeth clawing at her lower lip, which she did out of habit whenever she was nervous.

Jesse glanced up at her. "You ok?" he asked.

"Hm? Oh," she shook her head, snapping out of her daydream, and smiled. "Just fine."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Why do I get the feeling you aren't being completely truthful?"

"I don't know?" she shrugged.

"Stace... something's bothering you," he put in. When she uttered no reply, he said, "You know you can tell me. I owe you one for helping me out yesterday."

"Oh, it's not a big deal," Stacey sighed. "It's just... Mom and I had a fight yesterday."

"What about?"

She swallowed nervously. "Erm... Well..." She forced herself to look at Jesse, who wore a look of sheer concern. "Actually... Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course," he responded.

"Just... be warned, ok? This may be a weird question."

"Alright..."

With a large, intake of breath, Stacey inquired, "Jess... do you do drugs?"

Jesse stared. "Huh? Why?"

"Uh... Just wondering," she said anxiously.

He stared for a long time as she waited for his response. But he said nothing. He only looked away from her and glued his gaze to his acoustic. Stacey felt her heart drop; his silence said it all.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, jumping to her feet. "You do, don't you?"

Jesse's head snapped back up, his eyes consumed in nothing but fear and shame. "Stacey... Let me explain."

"I don't believe it!" she said in disbelief. "You... I thought you were a good guy! I really thought you were! Oh, how could I have been so stupid? Mom was right..."

"Stacey, please, just listen to me!" he pleaded, now on his feet as well.

"Save it!" Stacey snapped. He flinched. "I don't need your explaining."

"But... You need to understand... I didn't mean..." His words toppled over, his shoulders sagging hopelessly in defeat.

"Jesse," she whispered, blinking rapidly to wash away the tears that warmed up her tear ducts. "Please... please don't talk to me anymore."

She didn't wait for his response. She whipped around and stormed away, and when she was sure he couldn't see nor hear her, she allowed her tears to roll down her cheeks as a silent sob left her trembling lips.