Why am I the first DempseyMassie? Oh well. Maybe it's because I have such a cracky mind. Or maybe it's because… I'm the effing shizzle! ;) Oh, I suppose this is rather future-ish.

I was reading this one fic… where this dude kisses the girl's tears away. And Grace said, "Ew! That's like kissing urine! Equivalent, anyway." And I still can't stop laughing. Hahaha. I don't know, I guess it's one of those you-had-to-be-there moments.

Say

collide

"Why do you love me?" she had once giggle-gasped during one of heir little picnics by the lake. He had twiddled with his thumbs a bit, looked up at the brilliant blue sky, and gave a mumbled answer.

"Huh?" She had leaned closer, hair tumbling over her shoulder.

He raised his voice a notch, staring straight into he ambers. "I don't know. I just do."

She huffed and sat back down, crossing her arms. "'I don't know' isn't enough, Dempsey."

Dempsey had chuckled at that. "Sometimes it is, Massie." He never unlocked his gaze from her eyes. And in the obvious sincerity of the moment, Massie had asked no more.

falter

"Sometimes I wonder why you're still with me." Dempsey had once said with a sigh, after a long, tiring day of school. Massie settled beside him on the couch, running her finger on the purple crown charm on her bracelet.

He noticed her silence. "You're wondering why, huh?"

Her cheeks tainted pink. "No." She faltered under his penetrating gaze. "Fine—yes."

"And…?"

Massie had not frowned. She never did, for fear of wrinkles. Instead, she had tilted her head to the side, and tapped her French-manicured nail against her lower lip. "I don't know," she said finally.

"Come—" Dempsey started, but Massie had cut him off.

"Sometimes 'I don't know' is enough, Dempsey," Massie reminded him of his own words, and

Dempsey was silent.

At long last, he nodded. "I suppose it is."

goodbye

"Is that it?" She flipped her oversized sunglasses over her head and stared at him coldly.

"Yes." He nodded stiffly and handed her a box, marked 'Massie's Stuff'. "And mine?"

Massie shoved the box marked 'Dempsey's Crap' into his hands. "Knock yourself out." She sounded like she meant it. He looked down at the box and tore the flaps open. A mix CD. Three teddy bears. An old, pressed rose. Polaroid shots of both of them. His frayed bootlaces. Chew toys for Bean. His ratty navy jacket. Parts of him, no longer wanted in her life.

"Satisfied?" She raised an eyebrow, surveying him with iciness. He wished she had kept her glasses down. He nodded again, and she rummaged through her own box, looking through the gifts she had once given him. Her charm bracelet. A bottle of cologne, with only half its contents. A silk tie. Bootlaces. Her DKNY mint-green scarf. A picture album. Touches of Massie Block, returned to her.

She turned to leave, before hesitating. Dempsey felt a glimmer of hope, stating from the soles of his feet to the pounding in his chest (was it his heart?).

"You never really told me."

"Told you what?" Some of the stiffness left him.

She gazed unseeingly at something over his shoulder. "Why you loved me," she said evenly.

"You really want to know why, Massie?" He was surprised at how much bitterness there was in his voice. "Because you talk to Bean. Because you have amber eyes. Because you love purple. Because you always play with that charm bracelet of yours when you're nervous. Because you never cry. Because you wear Cinnabon lip gloss. Because of your cute little comebacks. Because you're my firecracker. Because you're you." He broke off, shaking his head. "And for many other reasons. I don't know, okay?"

"Okay." Massie nodded, her eyes on the toes of her boots.

Dempsey waited. When it became clear she had nothing else to say, he spoke. "Aren't you going tell me?"

Massie smiled. It wasn't a happy one. "I never planned to, Dempsey." She looked up at him and started to aqueeze her crown charm, but stopped herself. "I suppose this is it, then." Massie tucked the box in the crook of her arm, and pressed her well-glossed lips together. "Bye."

"See you around," he replied tautly, watching her turn on her heel towards Derek Harrington, who sent him a rather cocky smile as she slid into his car. He slammed the door as hard as he could, hearing the windows rattle with the force he had put into the door.

He pulled his jacket out of the box and breathed in. It once used to smell like him. Now it smelled like her. He would have to burn it. "Bye, firecracker."

say

"You okay?" Derrington asked, abruptly breaking the silence between them. It had begun to rain. And it was raining the first time she had met Dempsey… Massie shook her head, as if her mind was an Etch-a-Sketch, and she could erase all the memories just like that.

Derrington didn't slow down as he turned to look at her. "No?"

"I'm okay," Massie replied, still staring out the window. "Keep your eyes on the road."

"I still don't know why you were together with him for so long," Derrington muttered, staring back ahead, turning up the heaters in the car.

Massie could almost smile. That was easy. Because Dempsey wore old, unlaced boots. Because when he smiled, his dimples showed. Because he had shed his old skin, but kept his affectionate attitude. Because he couldn't high-five with his left hand. Because he cared. Because he was Dempsey Solomon, everything Derek Harrington wasn't.

The crack of lightning across the dark sky mimicked her own heart shattering as she said, "I don't know, either."

Gahh. I was planning a somewhat happy ending. Guess I couldn't stay away from the angst, huh? Review anyway, loves.