There will come a day when all of this will have passed

And there will come a day when you're out of my head at last

I'm trying not to fall

Damn it's such a long way down

But here I am.

- Marion Raven

DISCLAIMER: I claim to own nothing, but appreciate the people do own these characters.

As if it isn't hard enough…just…being when you're a teenager. Boys are, like, so confusing. When we communicate with them, it's almost like we don't speak the same language even when we've known them for years. All the same sounds come out, the same expressions, but when it comes to the actual meaning... we're in completely different places.

When Jordan brought Brian's bike back to my house…he started talking about the time he let me drive his car a couple of days earlier. And I started to remember… how out control it felt, how my heart would completely jump and the car would be jolting along with it. It was completely terrifying to be given the chance to control this big, powerful thing…when you accept it and begin, you feel completely capable.

But once you're holding the wheel and pressing down and it moves…you feel the…like…responsibility of all that power...and the danger…and the fear, because you're really not as ready as you thought you were.

And suddenly, you're moving forward and the world's moving with you. You're mind's racing ahead of you… and you're so solely focused on the movement…and what's coming up ahead. And you're so scared…of the width of the world and the people around you...that everything almost becomes an obstacle…something to be afraid of.

You suddenly realize you're in control of your life. Once it's moving forward…you can't break. And even if you were going to crash…you wouldn't anyway.

Just to feel alive…at the very…last…second…

I was so completely obsessed with…the moment, I forgot he was sitting beside me. Until this one second later, when some stupid parental voice in my brain instructed me with the most random command…to look in the rear view. And instead of seeing myself…I saw him. It was scarier than driving. I almost died in a completely different way to the way I do when he normally looks at me. Like, he was so quiet I didn't even know he was there. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on my leg. I remember, cause I felt the leathery grip of the steering wheel under my wet palms and his how strong his hand was.

He just looked at me…into my eyes. Didn't even watch where we were going…even though I was looking, like, straight back at him. In that moment…I felt like I could've done anything…because he trusted me. Not just because it was his car I was driving…or because I was some stupid…girl who had never done this before. Just…I could've done anything…and I would've done anything for him.

You'd never believe in a guided crash, that you would ever do something like that. Lead yourself into something that was going to end in wreckage. Not willingly, but you do. And he was still looking at me…concentrating on me with those amazingly deep blue eyes…so he must've seen me looking right back…and fumble on the gears, stumble on the accelerator instead of the break, heard me practically, shrieking. But he didn't move his hand to the break or the wheel…just stayed. With his hands on my leg, looking at me instead of what he knew was coming…speeding up to meet us.

Even when I ran into the dumpster, he didn't stop me. The controls were in reach, and if he'd taken over, the accident would've been completely avoidable…

In my home, he started saying something to me about how I should take my time with my turns, and in my head things started making complete sense. All those things I felt when I was steering the cars…scared, nervous, excited, insecure, alive… it was exactly how I felt whenever we… Jordan and me… me and Jordan… were together. How I wanted to handle this thing between us so badly, and when the time came to seriously take control...I was no where near as prepared to deal as I thought I was.

Like whatever we had, was like this car I was driving- destined to crash.

And as he smiled, still talking about the turns, and said he knew I would and meant something completely different… all I could think was...stop. You can see it coming…stop it. Why won't you stop it?

Words have a funny way of coming out one way and as soon as they come out, and you turn them over, there is this whole other meaning underneath.

I told him I'd miss him.

He said goodbye. And walked away.

Out of my house, out of my life

In the monumental sense of the word, in the sense that would spread from mouth to mouth like some kiss of death in the hallways before me the next day, we were over.

The two of us had never gone out on a date, not officially anyway. I'd never said he was my boyfriend to my friends without Rayanne either bursting into laughter or Rickie a romantic sigh afterwards and I was sure he never referred to me as his girlfriend, ever.

We didn't even refer to each other as "we" and it felt stupid now. We, two separate people, had talked and kissed for two days-not even long enough to classify as together in the life span of most relationships. And now, without even speaking the words, we were over.

I felt like I should have something in writing. Something valid…to validate what just happened.

But I had the last kiss on my lips and the door swinging open that I still had to close. I had his words and the way I remembered them, the way they felt.

And somehow, it was enough.

Afterwards, I apologized over and over for the dent in the bumper. It was only a scratch when I looked later, but for being so small, the impact was huge. I'm still not sure which meant more to him - the car or me. From the look on his face and the shakiness of his voice when he managed "That's OK", it was a bigger sacrifice than I could understand.

And just when you think life is going to get easier…it couldn't BE more confusing.