If I could ever have the ability to sculpt, I could have sculpted Pearl's tear with all its small dimensions. If I could paint, I would have drawn her tear-stained face with all the dark colors I would own. If I could sing, I would have sung her something to feel better.

But I couldn't do anything.

Except remembering her faint cast of an image in my mind.

"Why are you so quiet?" Hannah asked me, tilting her head to the side. She decided it would make us look more real if we went to the park like the other couples, and so we went, and I was driving. My hand reached the radio as my attempt to fill in the killing silence.

She turned the volume down, allowing the silence to conquer the atmosphere again, and I didn't like where this is going.

"Hunter?" She called again and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.

"Can we not talk?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just don't want to."

"You've been quiet since lunch yesterday. Is it because of that girl?"

"Which girl?" I asked. I wanted to talk about that girl. I want to talk about Pearl.

"That creepy one who watched us kiss." Watched you kiss me.

"Maybe she's love-sick."

"It doesn't give her the right to observe though."

"Why are you so bothered?"

"Because she didn't seem so fine."

"What do you mean by fine?"

"I saw her..." She breathed a long sigh, then inhaled. Her chest rising with the following breaths.

"You saw her what, Hannah?"

"I saw her whispering your name."