c a l u m:

I shouldn't be with Gwen. I was no good for her. I was a horrible influence; I was caught up in a dangerous job and to be honest, I didn't deserve her. But Gwen makes my heart stop. It's like one touch of her fingertips and a surge of electricity runs though my system and I can't think about anything else but her. She has this hold on me that I can't shake off, can't eschew. And although I shouldn't be with her, I couldn't imagine being without her.

I held onto Gwen's hand as I drove through the dark streets of Sydney, towards the outskirts of town. The music was on low, and Gwen quietly hummed along, surprising me in the process. I didn't even know she knew who Green Day was, much less liked their music.

"Where are we going?" She suddenly asked. She hadn't questioned me in ten minutes and I knew it was coming.

"To visit a friend," I replied.

"Michael?" She guessed and shook my head.

"Can I ask you something?" I changed the subject.

"Yea, anything," Gwen replied, the two of us glancing at one another briefly.

"Can you tell me about your life back home?" I guessed my question really surprised Gwen because she looked at me with wonder, mouth agape but with no words to speak. So I just continued, "I mean, I know things about you but only about your life now in Australia."

"Well what do you want to know?" She smiled, giving my hand a squeeze in assurance.

"Everything," I told her.

"Well, to start things off, I'm adopted," she began and immediately my head snapped in her direction.

"Wait, what? Really?"

"When I was still in the womb. My biological mother was a teen mom and wouldn't be able to take care of me so after finding the perfect couple, I was adopted at 16 weeks,"

"You don't look adopted," I commented, causing Gwen to giggle.

"Do adopted kids have a look?" She questioned.

"I mean, aren't adopted kids normally weirdos with dark problems?" I assumed.

"That's so weird," she continued to laugh, causing me to laugh too. "Where did you even hear that?"

"TV and movies I guess," I shrugged.

"Well contrary to whatever you're watching, I'm perfectly content as an adopted kid," she declared, giving me a head nod.

"Does it make you mad? Knowing that your mum didn't want you, I mean,"

Gwen shook her head, "not one bit. Things happen for a reason. I was meant to get adopted. My real mom knew she wouldn't be able to provide for me so she found people who could and I couldn't be anymore blessed."

She always surprised me. I didn't even know it was possible for Gwen to be so positive; so fùcking happy-go-lucky. She saw the good in everyone. Hell, she somehow saw the good in me and that was the best thing about Gwen. I was a screw up, a dangerous badass, and she had no business being with someone like me. But here she was, sitting in a car with me, unaware of where we were going and yet she still trusted me.

About ten minutes later, I took a left turn, slowing down at the next traffic light. I quickly glanced at Gwen and as she observed her surroundings, she knew exactly what we were doing.

"Why are we here so late?" Gwen asked, just as I passed through a pair of wrought iron gates.

"Why aren't we here late?" I was in a sassy mood.

Gwen shot me an unamused look, causing me to laugh; I guessed she wanted to be a sassy-pants too.

"Calum I'm being serious!" She whined, "aren't you a little creeped out by being here?"

I put the car in park, "no, not at all. You are though," I winked, poking her in the stomach.

Gwen jolted in her seat, slapping my hand away, "don't make fun of me, I'm scared."

"Baby," I sighed, holding her face in the palm of my hands, "don't be scared. I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise," I left a gentle kiss on her lips and I felt her smile into it. "Besides, if any dead bodies want to pop out of the ground and we're being chased by zombies, you know the drill."

"What drill?"

"Run baby, run," I kissed her cheek, to which she responded with a smile. I leaned back and grabbed a backpack from behind the seat.

"What's in there?" Gwen asked.

I pulled out a heavy duty flashlight in response and Gwen nodded her head. I grabbed the package of batteries from my jacket pocket and opened it up. After placing them into the flashlight, I covered my head with a beanie from the same backpack.

"Ready to go visit a friend?" I asked.

"Yea, let's go," she replied, a reassuring smile on her face and I took notice of the dimple on the side of her cheek.

The two of us stepped out of the car and I locked it behind us. Turning on the flashlight, we both rounded the front and like a magnetic pull, our hands immediately intertwined. As we walked through the gravel pathway, we followed the yellow beam of light that guided us to my old friend.

I could feel the vibrations of Gwen's shuddering shoot from her own body and into my own. The moonlight casted a silvery glow on her face and as I examined it, I could see fear in her eyes. I chuckled.

"Why are you laughing?" Gwen questioned, her irritated voice still soft-spoken and high-pitch so it was hard to see the annoyance in her.

"Because you're cute when you're scared," I continued to laugh. I really shouldn't be, but I couldn't help it.

"Calum, if you can't tell by the tombstones everywhere, we're in a cemetery. And I've seen enough scary films to justify my fear," Gwen explained.

"Come here," I let go of Gwen's hand, pulling her closer towards me and holding her by the waist. Placing a kiss on her temple, I felt her tense muscles relax. I liked knowing that I had that effect on her. "Don't be scared; I'm here. Always."

"May ask you something?"

"Anything,"

"Why weren't you at the funeral and why are we visiting Ashton now?" Gwen had her eyes down on the mound of dirt at our feet before lifting them up to look at me.

"I couldn't do the funeral. Funerals are a load of fücking bullshit," I declared with a scoff. Gwen's jaw dropped as she lightly hit me in the arm.

"Calum! Language," she scolded.

"Sorry," I apologized. "But it's true. People crying, people giving stupid eulogies about how kind and wonderful the deceased is. Ashton would be rolling over in laughter watching a bunch of people claim they care for him when they don't know anything."

"Well what would've you said if you were at Ashton's funeral?" Gwen asked, "what would you tell him now?"

"That everyone was wearing his favorite color: black," I joked. Gwen wasn't amused. I sighed, "why do you look so upset? You're asking me to talk about what I would theoretically say at my best friend's funeral. Kinda morbid don't you think? If anyone should be upset, it should be me."

"But you're not upset," she retorted. She looked up at me with eyes filled with concern and I knew exactly what she was thinking. Gwen's brain isn't difficult to untangle; it's neatly wired, color coded and perfectly archived. Even though her best feature was being able to see things in people that others couldn't it was also her worst feature.

"What do you expect me to do? Give you some kind of deep, sentimental monologue about how much Ashton meant to me? Did you expect me to cry, to break things, to do what normal people do when they lose someone? We're not all normal like you baby dumpling! Some of us are built a little different,"

"I can see that," Gwen gestured towards me with a brandished arm and an unamused chuckle. "You're built in a different language with a manual that has no translation and missing pages! Calum, I just want to understand you. And I appreciate you letting me tag along while you visit Ashton, but why can't you talk to me about your feelings?"

"My feelings? God Gwen! Did I not teach you anything? Happy endings don't exist and feelings-- feelings are equivalent to fûcking weakness and if there's anything that I am not, it's weak!"

"I'm not saying you're weak if you want to talk about Ashton. I just want you to let me in. I don't want you to keep things bottled up inside till you combust," Gwen expressed and judging by the way her brown eyes were glossing over, she was getting frustrated to the point of crying. "And you're wrong Calum. Not showing emotion actually makes you weak, because it means you're holding up a barrier, scared of what people will see behind it. I only want to help you but I guess you're too scared that I actually can."

Gwen turned away, marching off in anger. In the moonlight I could see her fists ball up and even though the back of her head was facing me, I knew what look she was sporting on her face. It's the same one she gives every time she's frustrated. Narrowed eyebrows, pouted lip, a quivering eyelid-- they all added up to an expression that could spark fear in anyone.

I should've ran after her the moment she walked off but I wasn't lying when I mentioned her mind being color coded. She was easy to read and I could anticipate almost every one of her moves. I knew the further she walked into the cemetery alone, meant that her mind was replaying any scary, slasher movie she'd watch in the past. And I was right, because not even three minutes later, did I hear rubber soles to gravel shuffling behind me.

"You were thinking about zombies weren't you?" I haphazardly questioned. My flashlight was still pointed to the fresh pile of dirt and the laminated tag with Ashton's name on it. The temporary name plate was on a wooden stake, stuck into the mound. I shuddered just thinking that my best friend was beneath all that dirt.

"More like ghosts," Gwen mumbled. I turned my head to glance at her but she kept her eyes on the dirt as if it were a pile of diamonds. "Can you take me home please? I'm really tired."

"Yea," I nodded my head. I reached over to grab her hand but when my finger barely grazed her hand, she quickly jerked it away. She stuffed both her hands into the pockets of her light sweater and waited till I took the first step.

I aimed my flashlight to the trail before us and walked back towards my car with distance between us. Gwen was silent the entire stroll and once we entered my car, she kept her eyes glued out the window. I didn't try speaking to her because I knew she'd eventually come around. So I kept the radio on and made my way through Sydney with the sounds of Green Day in my ears.

As I approached the Hemmings household, I slowed down the car, and pulled up to the curb. Immediately after putting the car in park, Gwen undid her seat belt and opened the car door.

"I'll call you tomorrow," I said, just as Gwen stepped out of the vehicle. I noticed her pause, as if contemplating her next move. And then she made it. She she slowly turned her head over her shoulder and looked me straight in the eye with an ice-cold glare.

"Please don't,"

//