How I don't know how to sing, I can barely play this thing;
But you never seem to mind, and you tell me to frick off;
When I need somebody to, how you make me laugh so hard.

It was a cool November night. The skies were dark, and the owls were hooting. The fresh Toronto breeze blew through Emma Nelson's now brown locks as she rubbed her hands against her arms for warmth. Every time she heard herself drag her Birkenstocks she felt herself cringe inside. But with every step she knew that she was closer to him. Even though she knew that with every step she was only coming closer to rejection, hate, and words of smite, she couldn't resist.

She had come accustom to the icy stare of his blue eyes. She couldn't resist the intoxicating aroma of Camel cigarettes and Budweiser that he gave off. Nor could she resist the bitter words he would use towards her. Each scent, stare, and phrase made her fall deeper and deeper into lust. It was a whirlwind lust that she had gotten herself into. With each night she spent with him, she would think about him more. She felt the need to get deep into his soul. Because she knew underneath that hard exterior there was someone with a heart of gold.

How whole years refuse to stay, where we told them to bad dog;
Locked up blindly in a word, or a misplaced souvenir;
How the past chews on your shoes, and these memories lick my ear.

The light from the bon fire gave him warmth. But nothing compared to the warmth that he received with each and every sip of beer, scotch, or vodka. As much as he hated to admit it, he was down. Because she wasn't here. He had welcomed her into his second home. He expected her every night. He loved the game that they played. A slight game of cat and mouse, he was the cat, and she was the mouse.

But there was more that he hated to admit. He hated to admit that with each giggle she would let surface, he would have to hold back a genuine smile. He loved it when her hazel eyes would sparkle; even if the sparkle was because of the flames of someone's joint. They made the moon look dull. He let out a sigh, looking at his watch. She was about to be here. He had to put his shield up. No matter how much he wanted to show her the real him, he couldn't. Jay Hogart was nothing more than a face in the crowd; and Emma Nelson? Oh, Emma Nelson was much more than that.

I know, you might roll your eyes at this;
But I'm so Glad that you exist.

She walked in, looking around inconspicuously. She never let him know she was looking. She bit the inside of her cheek, a little depressed when she didn't see him by the bon fire. She felt herself light up inside when she saw him start back for his picnic table, a new beer in hand. She let herself smile for the smallest second, before she grabbed a Smirnoff from a cooler.

She opened her bottle, putting the cap into her hoodie pocket. She wasn't one to litter, and even if the ravine was a mess she wasn't going to throw bottle caps on the ground. She took the smallest sip of her Smirnoff. The drinking wasn't as exciting as it used to be. She got a bigger kick out of the first word's to come out of his mouth.

"Fancy seeing you here, Greenpeace."

How we waste our precious time, marching in the picket line;
That surround those striking hearts,

The light from the bon fire shone off of his brown bottle, reflecting into her eyes. He was consumed. The glistening made him feel how he hadn't felt in almost a year. He hadn't felt for anyone since Alex. True, he had had others since her, but he hadn't wanted them. He never considered the strange possibility of the tainted love that he could possibly have with her.

He sat, listening to her speak. She would break every so often to take a sip of her drink. Finally he smirked, shaking his head at her. He chuckled softly to himself and said:

"Addicting stuff, isn't it?"

He laughed to himself as she blushed. He got chills from the look that was mixed half with anger and half with frustration. The look gave him the chills, and nothing could calm them. Nothing, that is, but the warmth of her soft smile.

And the time is never now; and we know who we should love,
But we're never certain how.

The dew from the grass seeped into the sides of her Birkenstocks, making her feet cold. She was already sick, because he had made fun of the raptness of her voice. She watched as he talked about his day. With each word he spoke she felt herself become more at ease with the fact that she was actually in the ravine for the third night since her November break.

She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if he would have applied to the same University as her. With each sentence that he spoke she wondered if he had gone to school. She couldn't understand how he had so much intelligence. She had always assumed him to be a brainless jerk. She thought of him as someone who couldn't even understand the importance of something like world hunger. But here he was, talking about how he didn't understand why anyone would really want to dump food down the drain. She was amazed by the words that he used. She was a high school graduate, and he was correcting her sentences. He was nothing but a dead beet, at least she had thought so.

I know, you might roll your eyes at this;
But I'm so Glad that you exist.

The emptiness of the bottle resembled the emptiness of his heart. There had been a void for almost three years, and no one had filled it. As he chunked his bottle into a trash can he wondered if she cared. Even the least bit, but he wasn't one to ask a question such as that to someone who probably thought of him as a thoughtless jerk. He felt jealousy inside of him as she talked to one of both of their old friends.

He tapped his fingers on the insides of his pockets, and contemplated a plan to get her away from him. He could tell her each horrible thing that he had done since she went off to University. Or he could be nice, and walk away. He decided that he should be going, it was already 1 A.M, and his mother was due home any minute. He wanted to be there to clean up her mess, but he also wanted to say goodbye. He shrugged, she would be here for a few more days before she left for University again, anyways.

I know, you might roll your eyes at this;
But I'm so Glad that you exist.

A silence hushed about the crowd of the ravine. Someone had fallen down. She turned around immediately, taking her attention away from Spinner. There were a few laughs, and she turned to the picnic table. She sighed, scratching her neck. He had left her, and she had nothing to do. So she walked, thinking; thinking about all of the things that she could've said; all the things that she should've said.

As she took each step, she cringed. The sloshing of the water that was inside of her shoes aggravated her more than the fact that he had left her. She looked around. There was no sight of his car, there were no footsteps trailing hers. She turned around, checking one last time. Maybe he was here; maybe. She sighed when she saw no one, and continued on her way home.

I know, you might roll your eyes at this;
But I'm so Glad that you exist.

He walked behind her, slowly; keeping out of sight. He wanted so much to walk up to her, and say good night. But the fact that saying good night would only make a fool of him self angered him. He hated the fact that he couldn't say anything to her, anything nice at least. He had always wanted to tell her that she did have pretty eyes, and no matter what that Peter guy said she wasn't ugly as a brunette.

But it couldn't be done. He sighed, and shut his eyes as she turned around. He hadn't been paying attention, and she walked over to him slowly. He felt himself get the chills again, but her smile tided them over. He smirked, shrugging a bit. She laughed, and walked back to him.

"Are you stalking me, Hogart?"

"Don't flatter yourself, cupcake. I'm just walking you home."

He continued to walk, and he shook his head at her as she began to walk in unison with him. He sighed heavily to himself as he turned to her. She was talking about the Peter guy who thought she was a bad brunette. They continued to walk until they had finally gotten to her house. She smiled at him, tilting her head a bit. She nodded her head to herself, and gave him a hug. He felt something that he hadn't felt in years as he patted her on the back lightly.

"Thanks for walking me home, Hogart."

"Not a problem, Greenpeace."

"But I thought you were going to call me.."

She trailed off and he laughed, shaking his head. He walked down her walk, smirking to himself as he put his hands into his pocket. He turned to her once he was at the sidewalk, and winked at her as she waved good bye. He started the long walk home, and said silently to himself:

"You're not a bad looking brunette, cup cake."