Jeanette picked at her nail while she waited for Simon in his room. Her thumbnail had caught on the zipper of her purple jacket and tore off, leaving it jagged. She sucked at it, and then wiped her paw on the jacket.

A few minutes later Simon emerged from the bathroom, in jeans and a blue sweatshirt, his brown hair dark, and wet from the shower.

"Hey," he said, readjusting his glasses.

"Hi." She pulled herself onto Simon's bed, with Simon next to her. Snow fell softly, like a white carpet outside. Jeanette shivered, pulling her jacket closer to herself.

"You should have worn a heavier jacket." Simon said.

She glanced over at him. "I didn't think it would be this cold here." Even in the half darkness of Simon's room, Jeanette could still see the blue of his eyes. Although every inch of him was good, she always thought of his eyes as his best quality. They were such a bright blue, almost neon. She always teased him, saying if they were ever stuck in a cave, his eyes would probably glow and light the way out.

"I was wondering-" Jeanette began.

"So listen-" Simon said.

Jeanette tipped her head. "You first."

"Well, there's this party tonight," Simon began, flipping the zipper on his bag up and down, up and down, "Downstairs. It's to celebrate Tori's third visit to this hotel."

"I don't know. I was thinking we could watch something from Netflix, here."

Simon groaned. "We do that all most all the time, Jen."

"I don't think, I want to go."

He hung his head to the side. "Come on, Jen-"

A knock came from the door. Theodore entered and yelled

"Settling up?" He walked and thumped Simon's chest.

Jeanette knew every line of that chest, like the tiny crescent scar on his left pec where Alvin had chucked a rock at him when they were little.

Simon smiled. He was a bit ticklish on his chest.

"So," he said, after making quick contact with Jeanette.

"I'll see you at the party."

"Sure, see you there." Theodore said as he left.

"Did you take my nail clipper?" Jeanette asked.

"What about the party?"

She was hoping he had forgotten.

"Did you take my nail clipper?" Jeanette asked trying to change the subject.

"Check the ashtray."

She pulled the ashtray open. Her nail clipper spilled out with several paper clips and a tube of chapstick.

"Dang it, Simon." She ducked down to scoop up the mess.

"Just leave it," He said.

"It's all over the floor."

He flicked his eyes to her.

"So? It's my room."

She groaned and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fine. Whatever."

"Are you going to the party or not?" Simon asked as thumped a pillow.

Jeanette fell against the back of the headboard, letting a sigh past her lips. He wasn't going to let it go. Why can't he just let it go?

"What are you doing if I don't go?"

"I'm going to the party."

She raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "You'd go without me?" They always spent their weekends, and nights together. And if they weren't together, there was a special reason. The thought of Simon showing up at some party alone… It made Jeanette's stomach knot.

There would be a ton of girls there.

Maybe Jeanette should just go. Maybe she should just swallow he discomfort and stubbornness and go.

"Jen." Simon picked at a loose thread on the pillow, while he avoided looking her in the eye.

"I don't want to hang out here. I want to go and do something."

"Hanging out used to be good enough for you."

"Yeah well, it's not anymore.

Jeanette leaned forward, hoping to catch his gaze. Her eyes flamed with the beginning of anger and fear.

"What are you trying to say, Simon? That hanging out, just the two of us is boring?"

He turned, to face Jeanette. "Why do you always put words in my mouth?"

"You're the one who insinuated that I was boring."

Simon was just so pushy lately, bugging her to go to stupid drunk-fest parties with Alvin.

She didn't want to go.

"I'm not saying you're boring," Simon said. "I'd just like for us to go out and do stuff instead of sitting inside and watching TV."

"But it's not that we're watching TV. We're being together, Simon. That's what couples do. They be together. They don't go out to parties to separate and get drunk.

Simon clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, "I never said we had to get drunk."

"But you want to drink."

Jeanette didn't notice until then, but they were standing. Simon's face loomed over her, head.

He threw up his paws. "You know what, Jeanette, I'm done."

She froze. "What?"

"I'm done."

"Done with what?"

Sighing, he lowered his voice. "With us."

Jeanette's mouth dropped.

"Are you…" She swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "Are you breaking up with me?"

He shifted again and stared straight ahead over Jeanette's head. The absence of an answer told her more than words would have.

The shock, burned into anger. "Fine!"

"She spun to leave, but Simon caught her paw. She turned and slapped him across the face, and yelled, "Lay, one more finger, and I'll call the cops." She twisted away from his grip and ran out the door. She stopped after arriving near her room, turning back, hoping to see Simon, running back. Instead the door of Simon's room slammed shut and was bolted tight. Jeanette screamed in frustration, as she threw herself onto her bed, and cried herself to sleep.

Simon slammed his door, bolted it, and threw all his books at the window which led to a balcony. The books lay on the floor, with cracked glass all over the books. Simon's paws were red, coated with blood, sticking to his fur. He had used the chipped pieces of glass and scratched himself with it. He raised the piece of glass, and dragged it down the side of his face. Bright red blood oozed out, stinging Simon. He wanted to kill himself. I love you Jen, I really do, and I don't know what happened there. He sat down on the floor and picked up his journal, and wrote furiously on the pages, the ink bled out, and went through the pages.