"I'm going to ask Stacey out." Sebastian bounces on his backside, shaking the table.

"Don't ask Stacey out," I say. Here I am, trying to look collected and not give off the I'm-desperate-to-run-into-you-Dawn stench. If any of my friends caught a whiff, they'd pray on us like ravenous beasts.

"Why not?" We are sitting under the willow tree by the cafeteria that overlooks the school grounds. We are supposed to be heading to class in no time. The bell is about to ring. Yet she is nowhere to be found.

Is she skipping classes again? Did she catch a cold after getting soaked on Friday? Maybe she got sick during the weekend and won't be here for days. My heart sinks at the thought. My gaze flicks to the gate every five seconds. My neck is so stiff I could use it as a baseball bat were it longer. My palms are sweaty, and I feel young, dumb and clueless.

"Because she is Stacey," I say. "You can't ask her out. I mean, look at her." The girl in question, captain of the cheerleader squad, is sitting at the next table over with two other stunning seniors.

"I am! She's a Betty." Sebastian says, to which Thad bursts out laughing hyena style.

"Ugh," I say, rolling my eyes at him. "You sound so stupid." I should've watched my tongue. Usually I would, but today Dawn is not here, and I'm giving zero fucks.

"What? That's a thing. A Betty is a thing." Sebastian and his bird brain, I swear I can't today. How I have lasted this long without losing it in front of the entire gang beats me.

"You need to stop pretending you're not into that 1995 movie 'Clueless'." I scoff and roll my eyes at him, but not before checking the damn gates one more time.

"Ha! River called your bluff, dude." Thaddeus chuckles.

"Say it, don't spray it, man," I say in his direction, watching him toss the empty coke can in the trash.

"River is right, you got it from the movie or something, right?" Thaddeus plays with the salt pot, spinning it and pouring salt into his hand before flicking it over his left shoulder.

"That's how people learn new words, Thad, bro." Sebastian taps at the screen of his cellphone. "Netflix."

"Go figure, I thought that's what reading was for." My shoulders slump in defeat as I sigh. My friends are morons, and Dawn is still a no show. Damn it.

Another laughing fit and I can't help but look at the gates one more time. Is it the tenth time? The twentieth? The two hundred and seventh?

"This is my year." Sebastian taps his puffed-up chest. "I'm getting a girlfriend."

"Lorna will freak." Thad giggles, tossing his curls with each snort.

"Lorna is all flirt, no game, I'm done waiting. I won't be a single Pringle anymore." Sebastian shoves up his sleeves as if he's readying for battle.

I look at Stacey again. She has long, blonde hair in a ponytail that sways as if she was in a freaking shampoo commercial. Her father is a famous investor that seldom does business with my dad. She's vain, one of those girls who never wrinkle. She doesn't make eye contact with Sebastian. I'm positive she'd be afraid he'd leave a stain.

"Choose anyone else but Stacey." I don't look at him when I say this, my gaze fixed again on the rusty iron gates.

"Why not her? You think I should aim lower?" A single thread of doubt crawls across Sebastian's face. "I'm telling you, she's totally hot, River." Admiration freezes Sebastian's features, and I smother a chuckle much against my will.

I study Sebastian with his tall-guy-no-trouble thing going on. He crosses his arms along the table, and rests his chin on his palm, probably daydreaming on groping the cheerleader. He isn't bad looking at all, but I know Stacey's ways. "Aim elsewhere."

"Screw that. I'm starting at the top of the food chain, and I'm getting you a girl too." His grin is too confident, and for a moment, I worry that he might make good on his threat.

Wait, what? Since when is this about me?

"Thanks, but no thanks." I throw out my hands as if to hold back the tide.

"Double-dating." Now determination fills Sebastian's voice, and I toss my hands into the air. He's a man on a mission, nothing will come his way. Except me and my lack of interest. My stupid gaze won't cease as I flitter it back to the entrance, hoping Dawn will walk in.

"No." Just say no, right? My firm tone does nothing to wipe that smug smile off Sebastian's face.

"In the 'love van'." Sebastian rubs his hands together with glee.

"Don't get your hopes up." I open my poetry book on the poem selected for my first class on this shitty morning. It's all about loss and despair. I close it right away. Where the fuck is she? Why hasn't she arrived? I still have her paper crown inside this book I'm carrying. I dried it with care and attention, using Mom's blow-drier. Even after that, Dawn's scent lingers.

"Now, there's a girl who might want a piece of you," Thaddeus says, and my heart skips a beat. "Looks like somebody wants to go rafting down this River." He's nodding toward the far end of the gates. Dawn is standing there, staring right at me. How can she look so beautiful and torn at the same time?

"She's not looking at me." I try to steer everyone's eyes away from her. I can't stand their gazes on her.

"She's kinda big," Sebastian says, and I ball my hands into fists. The strain on my knuckles making them whiter by the second. "The van is spacious enough, right?"

Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.

"Like I said, she's not looking at me, she's just staring. She does that a lot. See?" I wave at her, but she doesn't blink.

Laughter from the gang makes me hate myself even more.

I don't know why I do dumb shit. I don't know why I keep on messing things up with her, for now Dawn seems as if she's seen a ghost. A disgusting one. She turns around and leaves the school grounds. Her faded dress floating along with her long, ponytail. Now that's a girl that wouldn't be ashamed of getting wrinkles on her outfit or a smudge of mustard after a hotdog. My eyes follow her until she disappears in the roundabout. I brace myself for what comes after.

"She's weird," Thaddeus says.

"Damn straight. Gives me the chills," Sebastian says.

Their lack of sensitivity, their inability to see my interest or to show care for a human being other than themselves, tests the last strands of my patience and self-control.

"You are right. You should ask Stacey out. That's a fantastic idea." I slam my palms on the table, stand up and head to class, leaving them behind, zoning everyone else out in the process.

"Damn, you skip classes a lot, woman." A red-haired girl flops down beside me on the fountain's ledge. Her canny eyes look at the water and glance over at my cheeks, then down at her feet. She doesn't say another word for a minute.

I sniff, wiping my nose and stare at her some more. She's wearing black shorts, fishnets and a Rage Against the Machine tee. Her long legs swing back and forth. Tap-tap they go every time her bare heels hit the fountain. Her wrists are covered in weird bracelets, and she seems to fit in the world just fine.

"Hey." She raises her face to the sunlight. "I'm Stormy." She smells like lavender.

"Hey." My voice is robotic, and I think my breath smells like Elsie's depths. That water wanted to keep me in. Maybe I'm here on borrowed time. There's something wrong with me, I should be at school, opening my locker, putting in books. I should be able to put this incident behind me and face River once and for all. Make up my mind, come out of my whirlwind and talk to the guy. Who am I kidding? Chances of that happening are smaller than a split atom.

"Remember when you took hours to decide on an ice-cream flavor whenever I took you to the parlor, baby bee?" Dad's come back to me, and the relief is so immense new tears threaten their way out. I won't cry in front of this girl. I must pull it together. She must already think I'm deranged, hanging here by this fountain sobbing and acting weird.

"Butter Pecan. No. Cherry. No. Cookies and cream." There's a dash of laughter in his voice.

I want to tell him how lonely I am, but that would be selfish because in a way he's here with me. Even if that's not logical or sane, it's not his fault he's gone.

I remember, Daddy.

"You always ended up making the right choice, though. For you, that meant mint chocolate chip."

He's right. I can make the right call, even if I take a while longer than normal. I can get there.

Thanks, Daddy. I'm also kind of in the middle of something here. He fades away, and I'm dreading it. What if he takes longer to find his way back to me? It seems to get more difficult with each day, and that's terrifying in more ways than I can name. I haven't been to the lake or spoken to River so that isn't what's bothering him...

Stormy scoots over, closer to where I am. Now we are just two pairs of eyes hovering in awkward silence. There are tiny bubbles from the fountain floating among us. They wonder when she will run away, disgusted by my lack of social skills. Away they dissolve in judgemental plops.

"Hey." She greets me again. I marvel that she has stuck around and keeps talking to my weird-ass self. "Your name is Dawn, right?"

"I'm sorry." I choke on the apology, a little mortified at my slow responses. "Yes, it is. I'm Dawn."

"I knew it. We share the same classes. I watched you recite that dope-ass poem last week, and it blew me away!" I gawp at her, but she's oblivious. "You recited it in a way that made me think perhaps you and Plath shared something in common. She had a tough life, you know?"

"My dad died. His heart exploded." I don't know why I blurted it out. I mean, of all the things I could've said, these are the words that decide to come out. Nice job, ferny freak.

"That sucks, Dawn. I mean, shit. It has to be tough to lose a father." The earnesty of her cadence clicks something inside me. I like this girl. She's not afraid of the ugly or the unusual.

For the first time in a while, I want to try making a new friend. "Yeah, sucks. Big time. What about you? What's your deal?"

"I live with my mom and stepdad, two workaholics. I'm not exaggerating. They can't seem to stop sitting in their offices, going to meetings, conferences, dinners, you name it. I think they want to erase the fact that my brother is in a mental hospital with paperwork and business trips." The way she shoves her shoulders upward reveals her pain–it's a shrug I know all too well.

"That blows too." We stare at one another, and there's complicity building behind our gaze.

"There's a solid benefit, though. I have a lot of time to myself, and they make up for poor parenting by pretending I'm not a freak. So it's a win-win situation. I also get to visit Tom a lot." The wind carries her chuckle to me, bringing a minty scent with it. I want to smile back, but I suck in a deep breath instead. The memory of sharing a scoop with Dad threatens to spill my tears. "Mint chocolate chip."

"Sorry, what?" Her lips curl into a bemused smirk. I like her a lot already.

"I have a decision to make." My cheeks burn because I'm such an odd ball too.

"You do? About what?" Her curiosity is so genuine and her eyes so kind. Seconds go by with only the trickle of droplets from the angel's bow filling the air. Gathering my courage, I flick the hair off my temple to clear my vision. I want to see her reaction. "It's about a boy."

She laughs, and it's contagious.

"Isn't it always?" She nudges me with her left side.

The water's reflection shows my distorted yet goofy smile as I spill the details on how I met River and how he took me out of Elsie's lake. How I ran home in the storm and hit my knees hard when I tripped and fell before my front porch. She decorates my story with exclamations such as, "Oh, right in the feels!" Or "Whoops, that's gonna leave a mark!"

We are both cackling when my pathetic recount ends.

"Dawn?"

"Hm?"

"I think you need to stalk this River-dude for more intel. Stalk him so hard you'll end up on your own Facebook account."

This time we giggle so loud the pigeons scuttle away. I swear their wings beat out a comment. "Look! The weird ferny girl has found an angsty rebel friend. The world as we know it is ending!"

"So, what do you think?" Stormy's grin is one of eagerness, as if I've found a partner in crime. The idea of it is delicious.

I look at her tee. "Rock-and-roll!"

Stormy beams at me in delight.

We spend the next few hours chatting about everything and nothing at all. It's great, like a gush of fresh air after being stuck in my room, with my boxes and my grief for two days straight.

When Stormy has to go, she pats my shoulder. "Okay, then. Take care of yourself, Dawn. I'll see you around!"

"Oh, yes, sure. And I will. Thanks!" I stutter, as if this was a once off adventure. Then she's gone as magically as she appeared.

Once alone, I linger by the fountain. I look up River online with trembling fingers. His picture pops up in the search–my stomach does this weird somersault. I squint at him, trying to calm the rattling in my bones. His Facebook cover shows him standing on a clifftop, staring into the distance. He looks like a beat poet—pale, scruffy, kind of mournful, and, I'm sorry to say—drop-dead gorgeous. Even if he's barely a silhouette—he's darn alluring.

I send him a message.

I press send, although at the last minute I change "Add me, motherfucker," to something less out there given this is our first interaction.

I stand up, my knees crackle. I should head back before I freak Mom out again.

"You always know which flavor to choose, baby bee."

You bet. Let's go home, Daddy.

I pick up my bicycle and ride back home with the sun warming my back and his voice soothing my aching bones.

Maybe I can have Daddy's words in my head and River's friendship for as long as I'm still half a ferny girl. Yeah. Maybe it can work out, if I'm careful.

Here's the shape of it. Here's the gap. Here's the space where something good can fit in. Here's the want.