Disclaimer: I don't own Everwood. I know! Shocking isn't it? No honestly, WB owns Everwood. 

A/N: This is my first Everwood fic, be as mean as you can during reviews if I don't write a good one, ok? I need to improve don't ya know. Also, er… I realize that the next episode's going to be named Moonlight Sonata but it just worked this way. Sorry?

Dedication: To my darling Madi, because this fic and me would be absolutely NOTHING without her. She came up with Moonlight Sonata and the thing just… took off.

Ephram slammed the door shut to his locker. The sound echoed in the empty hall, bouncing off the cheap school tile and coming back to him in distorted and lonely waves. He had decided to stay after today. He wanted to play on the piano without his amazed father looking gapingly at him when he played all the right notes. The auditorium hadn't been that private: a couple had been making out in the back row. Somehow, he didn't feel right about playing Beethoven while the boy was trying to stick his hand down the girl's pants. Still… it was his music.

Music was all he needed right now. His music didn't abandon him like his mother did. It didn't forget about him when he needed love like his father had. And it certainly didn't seductively serenade him to make him fall in love with it like Amy…

His thoughts lingered back to his precious moments with her. He slammed his head against his locker- trying to get back to recalling the exact notes of Moonlight Sonata. It wasn't working- he knew it wouldn't. No matter how many brain cells he lost by smashing his poor head into something hard, her face would forever be branded in his mind. So… for the hell of it, he continued this pain.

He succeeded in banging his forehead against his beginning-to-be-bloodied locker three more times before a hand covered the intended spot that would've made it his fourth time. It was useless to look up at the owner of the fine manicured fingers. He already knew it was her. After all, she was wearing that ring- that stupid sapphire ring that Colin had given to her on their six-month anniversary. He could still remember her fiddling with it the first time he met her. He stopped the head meshing, only because he didn't want Colin's symbol of love implanted into his skin.

"Hi." She said. It was so simple. After a week of not ever acknowledging him, she decided to come up to him and say 'Hi'. She had toyed with his heart for weeks; let him go to deal with pain alone and after degrading him to nothing but a shattered heart.

At that moment, Ephram wanted nothing more but to rip that sweet, innocent smile off her face. How many times had she aimed that grin at him, sending false hopes through him like a lightening bolt?

"Hi." He said and picked up his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder in a truly carefree manner but careful enough not to hit Amy. He didn't need to abuse her, simply make her feel like shit.

He walked away from her. So naturally, being Amy, she followed. She grabbed his backpack, forcing him to slow down.

"Don't be like this…" She whispered to his retreating back. She was begging him, groveling at his feet. He had pictured this scene in his head a thousand times; it always ended with a passionate kiss. Something told him it would not end like that this time and truthfully… he wasn't sure if he wanted it to end like that.

"Be like what, Amy? Be cold? Be unconcerned? Do you want me to just suddenly sweep you into my arms?" He spun around. "I haven't forgiven you, you know."

She gulped and nodded. "I know."

Ephram stared at her. Her eyes were full of tears, glassy and full of hurt. He forced down a swell of sorrow knowing that he had put it the tears in her eyes. He sighed, ignoring his huge desire to run away from her. She needed to talk. Maybe after this, she'll just leave him alone. "What do you want, Amy?"

She shrugged, her shoulders rising in unison. "I don't know." There was silence suddenly. Ephram was waiting for her to go on and she was trying to find some way to put her feelings into words. "Ephram… you're the best friend I've ever had. You understand me. You make me feel like I have some significance in the world… I've missed you."

Ephram nodded, suddenly understanding. "So you're saying that you want me to hang around you again so you can feel significant?" He smiled then and Amy shuddered. She knew that he didn't mean it as a nice, loving smile. "Nice, Amy- way to make me feel important." He winked at her with malice and his voice dropped to an actively display of sarcasm. "Great going!"

Braving his anger, Amy stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his only way out.

"You know it's not like that Ephram." Her voice was firm, so sure of itself. He hated it.

"It's exactly like that." He hissed. "God, Amy! Did you know that the first time I ever saw you I thought you were gorgeous? I begged God or whoever up their toys with our teenage love affairs to just let me feel what your skin was like. I wanted you so much! And you knew it! So you decided to just play around with me-"

"Ephram, it wasn't like that!" She objected. Her eyes were denying.

"You had me fooled. You actually made me believe that you loved me. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Stop," She grabbed his arms and shook him. "It's not true. You know it's not. You know I-" Pause. She opened her mouth again, repeating this time, her voice barely above a whisper, "I-"

Ephram laughed. In spite of the drama surrounding him, he found humor in his optimism. "You can't say it can you? You can't say you love me." He leaned in, his nose millimeters away from hers. "I loved you." His lips found their way to her ear. He inhaled her scent, remembering how much he had missed it. "I love you."

They exhaled at the same time, locked in their embrace. Neither of them moved.

"I can't do this, Ephram." Amy sobbed into his shirt. "I can't do this anymore. Please don't make me… please." Gripping his shirt harder, she repeated her plea.

It was in that instant that Ephram made one of the hardest decisions of his life. He would remember it in years to come, and though at that moment he regretted it, years later he would realize he did the right thing. One cannot play with fire and not get burned.

"Go back to Colin, Amy." Amy nodded.

He kissed her one last time, feeling his lips brush her tender skin and savoring it. Then, he walked away, whistling Moonlight Sonata under his breath.