Making his way down to the park, he wondered why he'd gone. The two of them weren't friends, they were slightly more, but they were not in love. So when she had asked for the meeting, he knew he must accept. But why?

He knew it was a sudden impulse… a small ignition of love that he had felt ever since their eyes met. And he knew he would never be able to move on. She'd always linger in his heart, even though it killed him.

A desert road from Vegas to nowhere

Some place better than where you've been

That's what life had been with her. He walked alone, even when it seemed like someone, anyone was by his side. With her, everything had been heated, and sometimes dry. It felt like he was going nowhere, endlessly wandering to get to where he needed to be. Whenever he thought he found it, there she was, boldly standing in the way of his every opportunity to escape. She wouldn't let him. Or was he blaming her for his feelings? Of course he was. Without her, he wouldn't feel this way. But did he truly feel for her in that way?

As she kept him from moving on, it was like she was saying, "I am better than your past and where you desire to be." Was it true? It was nearly impossible to tell. Even if he did give in to whatever his heart was trying to convince of his mind, she was always included in the equation.

When he would be with girls, he couldn't help but compare those girls to her. Even when he finally had a shot with the girl of his dreams, he had to turn her down because she wasn't her. It was just too difficult to leave her behind completely, even though it had been years.

A coffee machine that needs some fixing

In a little café just around the bend

He saw her. She was just finishing up her shift at Skybucks Outlet, the café and coffee shop she had been working at for six months already. It was what she had to do to get by because she had chosen to sing for a living… and the arts don't make much money because it's all about the people you know. Sadly, she was a nobody to the limelight. He wished he could change that in an instant because it would make her happy. It would also get her out of his life, and that way, maybe he could prevent himself from falling so hard. No, he wasn't falling. There was no way he would allow himself to do that. Not with the distinct role she played in his life.

He watched her. She wrestled with a cappuccino machine, pounding at it and obviously swearing at it. As she did so, he chuckled. What an angry and passionate person she was. Maybe that was why he was so drawn to her. Apathy and lethargy were two things he saw in his generation, and she just didn't seem to posses the horrid traits.

Maybe he should go in and surprise her. That could go one of two ways. She could be display her rare, friendly side and act her age of twenty-two years, or she could slap him until she suspected he was internally bleeding. Either way, he decided he would take his chances, and he entered the café.

"FUUUUCKKK!" she screamed at the machine, still pounding it. "You are holding up the line, you little bitch! The day everyone in the world decides to order a cappuccino, you decide to get lazy! I have a meeting to get to!"

He laughed at her rage, and the four people standing in line stared at her, mouths agape. Slowly, he approached her and touched her shoulder. At first, she raised her shoulder and flinched in an irritated manner, but then she turned around and faced him with frustrated eyes.

"Need some help?" he asked, trying to be serious. When she was angry, she couldn't take a joke well at all.

"Of course!" she bellowed. "Did you not hear me screaming at this thing? Start being all fix-it and help me out!"

Laughing, he gave the cappuccino bitch and light tap, and everything began working smoothly. The coffee-drinkers sighed with relief, and she scrunched up her face in embarrassment.

"Well," she tried to make an excuse, "I think it was under pressure because I was so mean to it."

"I'm sure," he said. "This means you're off, right?"

"Uh-huh. Are you ready to go?"

"Definitely."

She did her last few things for the night, and then the two of them left for wherever it was she wanted to go. Since childhood, she'd been bossing around everything they'd done together because that was simply her nature. It was a good thing, too, because a pushover wasn't what he wanted. He was too much of one himself.

"So, why did you ask me to meet you after work?" he asked.

"Because I wanted to talk to you," she told him. "Isn't that why most people meet each other in this world? Or do I have this social scene thing mixed up?"

"No, you're right. It's just that you never call me for anything. Is there something really wrong."

She stopped dead in her tracks and paused her speech. He wondered if she was okay, so he reached out to steady her in case she fell.

"Are you…" he began, but she recovered before he could conclude his premeditated question.

"Yes, I'm fine," she snapped, "for the most part. But I've been thinking. Where am I going in life?"

They found a park, and no one was around. They both seemed to be thinking the same thought as they headed toward a bench near the middle of it all. After a few seconds of silence, he turned to her and questioned,

"What do you mean, where are you going? You can go wherever you want to go. You're strong and you won't let anything get you down."

"I don't think so," she spoke solemnly. "Not anymore."

A hot, dry wind blows right through me

The baby's crying and can't sleep

When she said this, he began to fear. Was her self-esteem truly low? Or was she just irrationally angry over her lack of skill with the coffee machine? It was so difficult to read her… a closed book with small, intricate print. She always seemed so happy with her identity, but what if it was all a convincing façade? What if she was just as immature and lost as he was?

"Why do you feel like this?" he inquired quietly, hoping she felt his true concern.

She sat down on the park bench and heavily sighed.

"I am nothing. My dream is going nowhere, and I'm stuck working at a stupid café. It's hard when you aspire to be someone, especially when you're no one. And that's me. You're someone because you have such an intellectual gift. My stand-in brother is someone because he has such an artistic eye and creative way to look at everything. And me? I'm nothing. The only reason I was something is dead."

He felt his heart sink when she spat the word dead. It had been two years, and they never spoke of her- the best friend who kept them together. Now that she was gone, it was much easier to pretend that she had just gone off to live her own life, and there was that chance of seeing her again. But it had been too long to keep living in the fantasy world. They had to face the facts- their best friend was dead and gone.

"That's not true," he objected, "you are someone, and you are very special. I've never met anyone like you. You're so strong and you know yourself so well, and you are smart. If you weren't, could you write all of those beautiful songs?"

"It's not my brain that does it," she replied modestly. "It's my eyes and my heart that do the writing. I've seen and felt so much in this rocky mountain the average human calls life. My brain isn't anywhere near developed. I'm not smart."

"Let me say it again. If you weren't smart, could you have thought of a saying like that in less than thirty seconds?"

Grinning, she said, "No. But I don't understand why I can't make it anywhere. Ever since she died, I haven't been able to really do anything. You're the only person I can trust, because you're the only one who fully understands. I don't know who I am. I'm just a bundle of hot air. That's all."

Again, he touched her by the shoulders and looked her square in the eye. To begin with, she turned away, scared and confused by the look he was giving her. In the past, he had always been the one to shy away, and he figured it was making her feel quite inferior to him… herself… the world.

"Stars themselves are bundles of hot air," he told her. "And you are a star."

That was when she did something rather odd. For the first time in about eight years, she blushed. He was surprised, because he never thought that he, her nemesis, could cause her to behave like such a little girl.

"Thanks," she whispered, "but I can't help but feel like such a child. I don't know what to do half the time, and I'm always asking for help, from you and from God. No one else seems to want to assist me because I'm a challenge. I guess the two of you are the only ones who want to handle me."

He darkly chuckled. "That sounds about right."

"Sometimes, I think about everything, and I just cry. I keep myself awake at night because I'm so worried about everything."

She began to sniff, trying to keep herself from tears. He moved to sit next to her on the bench, and she turned her head so she wouldn't face him.

"What if I'm not who I thought I was?" she squeaked out the burning question.

"Oh, you," he whispered, trying not to cry himself. "I suppose that's up to you to decide. You are, after all, the only one in charge of who you are."

"Did you study motivational posters in high school?" she snapped, and he chortled.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly. "Snappy comebacks are just in my bloodstream. Do you still get offended by them?"

"Not really. Like I said before, it would be too weird if you didn't make my life miserable all the time."

The two recalled the moment on the fire escape from years before, the only time she had blushed before that day in the park. It wasn't until that moment in the present time when they realized that this incident, sitting on a park bench, was much like the occasion of their kiss.

"You'll figure everything out soon," he assured. "Trust me, I know you."

"Well, I know me too," she objected, "and I know that I'm going to be wandering around for a while. I'm going to need your help."

"And I'm going to be there to offer it. I care about you, and I know you know that. If I didn't, would I have given up the trip of a lifetime for your happiness?"

Snickering, she answered, "Definitely not. You're a great friend."

"You too."

He felt sudden disappointment in her words, and it didn't take him more than a second to notice why. He wanted more. He needed more. And there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she felt the same way about him.

But we both know a change is coming

Coming close sweet release

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired slowly.

"You just did," she teased.

Ignoring her comment, he took her answer as affirmative, and he continued what he was planning to ask initially.

"What do you want to do with your life? I know you want to be a singer, but there has to be more. What about your emotional life? You have to have one of those. You're human. At least, I think you are. There's always the chance you might be supernatural. I've believed that since junior high."

She gave him a sly half-smile, and it looked like she was pondering about how to answer his question. A few seconds of reflecting went by, and she began to reply.

"Well, I'm not sure if I can ever have a best friend," she started. "Not after losing my first and only so tragically. Twenty is so young, not even college graduate age. She could have done so much if it weren't for that drunk driver. If I were to find him today, I would kill him and risk twenty to life in prison, but I don't care. She meant too much to me, and I'm going to wind up there anyway."

"See, that's what I mean. Don't you think more highly of yourself? I for one think you're very capable of being the only person in your family to not go to prison. You have a good heart, but sometimes you leave it a little dusted. And I know what you're saying about not having a real best friend, but I'm not asking you to recreate her. Don't you have someone standing right in front of you?"

She looked up at him, amazed that he had offered to be her companion. But as she studied his now adult features, she didn't know what to say. He was certainly a handsome young man, which she would have never expected as a rebellious teenage girl. There was no way she could be falling in love with him, but she knew that was a lie. She'd fallen in love with him long ago, and it was time to look reality in the deep eyes and make her move.

"Yes, there is you," she spoke in a soft whisper. "There's always been you. But you can't only be my best friend. You have to be more."

His heart tingled, and he prayed that he wasn't dreaming. He wasn't. He knew he was awake. Soon, she would start speaking the words he had heard in his wildest dreams, and they would be together. The pain and suffering was worth everything, because now was the moment he had been preparing for.

The change was there. Now they would no longer hate each other, and they would definitely be more than friends and exactly lovers. Both could feel the release of all the denial. It felt wonderfully perfect. Just what they needed.

I know you hear me

I am calling you

I am calling you

And then she did something beyond strange. She crept under the park bench and lied on her back. He eyed her, shocked and puzzled. Even though she was insane, he didn't expect her to be lying on the filthy ground where germs just wait to attack. He knew that she loathed being sick more than almost anything, and this was just disease waiting to happen.

"What are you…" but he had to stop when he saw her hand. She was reaching out to him, wanting to connect.

He turned over on his stomach and extended his arms to meet hers.

"Reach for me," she begged in a hoarse voice.

"Always have," he responded honestly.

And finally, after slowly inching to one another, they connected, and the universe was finally at one with them. Both were aware that they could conquer anything now, because they had discovered their ultimate happiness: each other.

She came out from below the bench and sat near him again, but not extremely close. Obviously, she was still trying to process what had happened. It seemed incredibly unreal, and the two were heavily panting.

They could stop calling each other now. Nothing was necessary because he would always be there for her and vice versa. It couldn't be altered. They were permanently together. No hatred involved.

He walked over to plant of lilacs and picked one, then took it back to her. When he went back to the bench, she saw the purple flower and moved closer to him.

Handing it to her, he confidently said, "I love you."

She took the flower, mysteriously beamed and said, "So I've heard."