After a couple of days, I recooped from the school dance. I couldn't help but be mad at Garrett, although that was incredibly stupid on my part. Of course Garrett had been avoiding me. He didn't really want to explain, and I didn't expect him to. I don't know exactly what I would expect. But I had other problems than Garrett. Darren was becoming depressed. His father was coming back to mind, I could tell. It was incredibly hard watching his solemn expression when I had no real reason to be sad. He had lost a dad; his closest family member. I had absolutely no idea what that felt like. And I didn't want to know what it felt like, but there was no way for me to empathize with Darren. So that weekend, I planned to call him and hang out like we always did. But he surprisingly called me before I could even pick up the phone.
"Hey," he rushed, "Mind if I come over for a bit?"
His voice had sounded hurried. Darren sounded almost as if he needed to get away from something. So of course I invited him right over and we talked for a little bit outside by the tree bridge and flowing water. Darren ran his hands through his hair; elbows on knees and head ducked low. When he came up, his face showed pure exhaustion. He looked off at a nearby tree.
"Mom can't handle it," he croaked.
I nodded. I knew what he meant.
"It's hard. Sometimes she does nothing but hold on to me. Other times all she wants to do is get rid of me! She isn't herself; she throws things.... at me. She yells at me when she feels like it. She thinks I should be more upset," he stopped there, "like I'm not paying any respect to him. I sit and think about him every day. I never once let it pass out of my mind,"
I closed my eyes. They burned as I tried not to let out a few tears. When he talked about his family, he talked as if they all were gone from him. The only way he could manage; I realized, was me. His friends and I were the only people he had.
"Dad used to paint with me. He would compliment my paintings and drawings with such artistic value; he could make you feel like you were Picasso when you painted a black line. He didn't just say 'good' and leave it be. He used to play basketball with me and he would lift me on his shoulders so I could reach the goal. Several times he'd do that until I finally got big enough to shoot by myself. He would watch me shoot several baskets everyday. He taught me everything I know today," Darren whispered each word in turn. The memories were obviously hard to hold on to, but they were definitely better for Darren so he could grasp the good things.
Darren stopped for a minute. I waited. The whole time we never once stopped to have a good time and talk a little bit. But I didn't expect we would. I didn't expect it for a while. It saddened me greatly to think Darren might never be the same. We might never jump straight into rivers, lakes, and nearby waterfalls. He might never go exploring  with me to find new places. Although most of the time we wouldn't find anything it was the things we did during the adventure that made me want it right then and there. It was just so far out in the distance that I slipped so suddenly and missed the opportunities of adventure. Possibly forever. I talked him through it the rest of the night, trying to offer as much support as I could. Of course, he always had some way of turning my words against me, but I didn't judge too harshly. The air was still and tense the whole night. I hated it, and I hated the whole situation.

Author's Note

Hey guys! I realize my chapters are starting to become dull. I expect it to get more interesting in the next few chapters, but I'm having a sort of writer's block D: But anyways thanks to anyone who is willing to read this book! I need all the possible views I can get! How do you like this book? Comment! :)