It is always I who has to get my friend out of trouble. Today is one of those days. . .

He had made the worst mistake in his entire life. He won't tell me what, but we are currently being chased down by the U.S. Army and he has a very heavy book bag strapped to his back like a parachute, only heavier. . .

As he and I maneuvered around different obstacles, I was suddenly thankful for the excruciating running we did in gym class. I was thankfully built for endurance. Markus on the other hand was built for speed. . . So he isn't doing so good right now.

I remember riding down this way on my mountain bike, but I never ran down this path before. Nor have I ever been chased by the U.S. Army before. Me and Markus have been chased by class bullies, rabid dogs, our cranky neighbor Mr. Gregory, and every now and then the cops, but never the freaking army! Why do I always get pulled into these types of situations?

Me and Markus have been friends ever since kindergarten. We met up on the bus one day and he gave me half his Twinkie(which I later learned had been dropped on the dirty floor) and became instant BFF's. Ever since that day I've helped him out of sticky situations. He's book smart where I'm street smart. Poor guy would be in jail if it wasn't for me.

Up ahead there's a fork in the road, one way is a easy downhill slope, which is a bad idea in this situation because the big boys have guns and have been shooting at us. The other path, the one I'm gonna lead Markus towards, leads towards an underwater cavern. I'm also thankful Markus and I took diving practice because the air hole, which is pretty spacious, is at least a three minute swim under a mountain of rock to get to it.

"Come on! We're almost there!" I shout out to my friend, who is wheezing and heaving. I grabbed his hand to half drag, half lead him to the shallow pool that had the natural tunnel at the end of it.

The gunshots were getting closer, as well as the yelling of the men. The bullets were also becoming slightly more accurate. I winced in pain as a shot grazed my right arm, but knowing worse could come I pressed on towards the water. At the edge of it I let go of Markus's hand.

"Deep breath man. . . This is going to be a loooong swim. . ." I said, stressing my words to get the point across. He nodded gravely, and we quickly waded towards the wall of rock. The water was freezing! Chilling me to the bone! But hypothermia is the least of my worries.

Taking a deep breath, and hopefully not my last, I dove through the hole and down the pitch dark tunnel. Every now and then the book bag I had strapped to my back snagged on the jagged rocks along the edges of the walls. I can only imagine how Markus's book bag is weighing him down.

Soon enough, when my lungs were bursting for air, I saw the green glow from the small cavern that's big enough to have five people standing up in it. I slightly increased my pace knowing that the cavern that was filled with glow worms was also filled with fresh oxygen .

Upon entering, my head instantly shot up gasping for air. Not a second later Markus did the same. I glared at him while I sat down on the tiny beach out of the water. He laughed and did his victory dance in the water splashing it around.

"Next time, when I say we've faced worse odds, I mean this." He said laughing. I groaned and face palmed. He dragged his lazy butt on my right side, that's when he noticed my arm. . . "Oh my gosh! You're hurt!" He exclaimed, gently grabbing my arm and inspecting my wound.

"Geez Markus! I'm fine! It's just a cut, I'll be okay." I said, as he fished around in my backpack for my waterproof first-aid kit. "Gosh! You act like you love me or something!" That's when he turned away, cheeks bright red. . . He kept his gaze away from my eyes and focused on bandaging my still-bleeding wound. "You didn't. . ."

"Yeah. . .um, Bethany. . . I kinda sorta have a have a crush on you. . . "He mumbled, obviously afraid I was about to explode on him. "I was meaning to tell you sooner but I-"

"Always need me to get you out of a sticky situation?" I interrupted. His blush, if it could, grew a darker red.

"Yeah. . ." He whispered, finally the moron looked me in the eye. "Beth. . . I love you."

"You do know I view you more like a brother I never had. Not a boyfriend." I said, groaning slightly at how tense this situation was getting.

"I know. . .but I hope that maybe one day. . . You'll love me, like I love you." He leaned forward slightly, his chocolate brown eyes filling with passion. "B-" But before he could say anything else, a loud, and I mean ear-exploding loud, boom sounded. . . They're blowing their way in here! All around us cracks ran up the walls, but before anything could happen I jumped on top of my best friend to shield him from the blow.

Why does my body ache so bad? Fluttering my eyes open sunlight burned my vision so every time I blinked black spots would cloud my vision. Where's Bethany? I groaned and tried to sit up, until a gun was pointed at my chest. . .

"Stay down! If you move. . ." He clicked something on his gun, he didn't need to finish his statement. So I rolled my head around instead. . .and there was the girl I love. . . Dead. . .

I didn't care if I got shot. . . Not anymore. "No! Beth please! You can't be gone! Please no!" I crawled over to her dragging my left leg behind me. "No please Beth! Please I love you!" Tears soaked my tattered, reddened shirt as I cradled her in my arms. "Please! I'm sorry! This is all my fault! All I ever wanted to be, was to be tough like you! And every time I got in trouble, it was so I could seem tough like you! I wanted to impress you! Please don't leave me! I can't go on without you. . . We'll never be able to have adventures again. . . I. . . Loved a girl with my memories of my past. . . And now. . . I love a girl who won't be able to help me in the future. . ." I couldn't speak any farther. My sobs and tears hindered me from continuing. The people around me must have felt my pain, they didn't speak a word. . .

The next day I was sent to court, my eyes were red from crying and I couldn't speak. My voice would fail me, even when I tried to keep my blubbering out of it. But my Bethany was gone. . . She was gone because of me. . .