Le Author: For those checking in, just went through and edited some mistakes and revived some crappy sentence. Thanks for all you support. And remember: Smile.

Smile.

That was the very first thing she said to me and it saved my life.

Depression. Suicide. Death.

That has been my train of thought for the past year and a half. It runs around in a circuit, passing the same landmarks of pain and misery that it's become predictable. And that day was no exception.

My name is Brick Jojo. I have a mop of rusty red hair and dull blood red eyes. I'm 6' 3'' and scrawny for a 17 year old senior in high school. I'm also the outcast of Townsville High. It could be worse. I wouldn't find that out until later. Until her.

I knew who she was, but not in the way I know her now. She was the senior everyone knew. BFFs with anyone and everyone in a heartbeat. I hated her for it.

She was everything I wasn't. I hated the entire world and everyone in it evenly but she was special. She was at the top of my list with that perky little smile.

At first I ignored her, just like she and everyone else ignored me. I told myself that's what I was doing. But subconsciously, I was actually watching. I knew where everyone sat at lunch or in class, what everyone's classes were, where they'd stand in the morning and after school, what path they took to classes. It's a small school. I knew everything, but only on the outside.

Blue.

That's how we met. A blue Voltage Mountain Dew. $1.50 at the vending machine under the stairs that lead to the class rooms.

I remember that day crystal clear.

I sat on the floor against the wall, just watching. I wasn't ready to get lunch yet; the lines were still too long. I was entertaining myself with the daily line for the vending machine. I kept a tab on what was bought and tried to predict what each person would get as they stepped up. She was in line too.

I knew what she would get. It was the same everyday. She always showed up while the lines were long for hot lunch and would take the last spot in the line. But that day there would be an anomaly in the daily patterns of the school. It's not unheard of for the patterns within the school to flux but nothing changed with her.

The anomaly was called Mitch Mitchelson. He was a star on the football field and a prime antagonist in my life; one of the countless. Jackass and arrogant. That day was a prime example.

Just as she was about to step up to insert her 6 quarters and claim her prize, Mitchelson slid in before her. She passed it off; being the good person she was, she didn't mind waiting one more person to get to her soda. We watched as he slid 2 dollars into the slot and keyed in the code for the soda he desired. I watched as a blue soda slid from the rack into the door at the side below the keys and where his change jangled. He left and then she stepped up.

I couldn't have predicted what would happen next.

Tears. Quiet. Alone.

That's what changed about her. After Mitchelson stepped away with his drink, she stepped up. Then her face fell.

I'd never seen her frown before. She was the social type. The one that was always infecting others with her happy smile and laughter. So it took me by surprise to her frown.

I knew what had happened. Every day she came up and bought the same soda to go with lunch. I knew how the vending machine worked. Popular sodas were stocked in fifteens, not so populars and noncarbonated were kept stocked in fives and tens. I knew for fact that before her, 14 Voltage Mountain Dews were bought everyday. And on that day, Mitchelson had bought the fifteenth. Her Voltage.

She was always last in line, whether it was for the last Voltage or not, and she always got her soda. That day it was different. I just didn't know by how much until I saw the first tear fall.

I don't sit that far from the vending machine; about 10 feet at best. Far enough away that I can watch yet still ignore the people that use it. I sat with my backpack next to me, resting against the wall and just watched.

I watched as her face fell. Then everything else about her fell with it.

At first she just stared at the empty slots where her drink used to be. Then I noticed her start to shake. Her hands were clenched at her side and she had her eyes closed. At first I thought she was mad.

Then I saw the tear.

It rolled down her cheek and rained onto the floor. Then she crumbled.

She rubbed at her eyes frantically with jittery and jerky swipes. She walked shakily to the corner, as far as she could be from me in the small alcove. She slunk to the ground, brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them before burying her face there. I could tell by her silent shaking she was crying.

Wrong.

That's what I thought. It was wrong for anyone to be that alone. To be huddled in a dark corner crying like there isn't a hope in the world. I knew what it was like to feel like that. I felt it on a daily basis. I also knew I was wrong about her.

She didn't have a perfect life like I'd thought. Otherwise she wouldn't be in such pain. I've been like that. But I knew how to hide it better.

So I took a page out my own book and did what I had always wanted someone to do for me when I got that bad.

She jumped and looked up in shock as me and my backpack sunk in next to her. She had fear and pain in her eyes as she stared at my outstretched hand. I held out a white handkerchief with blue lace around the edges that my grandma had given me and I carried around. It was one of the dozen causes of torment in my life.

"Take it," I said. She stared at me blankly though I could see all the troubling emotions just below the glaze of her tears. "I don't bite. Take it, you need it more than me." I gave her as close to a real smile I could, it was the closest I had gotten over the past year. I waved the hanky to get her attention back on it.

Slowly and shakily she took it, watching me intensely with her pink eyes. I just watched, calm and unmoving. When she finally clutched it, I gave her another smile and leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes.

I knew she watched me, knew she wondered and questioned my motives, but I didn't move. Neither did she. I could feel the tension, pain and misery echo through the air around her, but I still didn't move. I just relaxed and waited.

I knew what she needed, wanted, even if she didn't know it herself.

So I sat there, quiet and calm, until she finally softened. I finally peaked a glance at her when she started to sniffle. She wiped her nose and eyes with my offering. I couldn't help the sweetness that twisted my lips. I closed my eye again and gave her what she needed.

Quiet. Strength. Warmth.

That's what I gave her. It's what I'd always wanted when I hid from the world and its pain.

I didn't talk or move. I didn't pressure her into speaking, laying it all out and spill her guts and more. I certainly didn't tease. That wasn't what she needed. All she need was the quiet of a place so the tears and pain could flow until her thoughts fizzled to stop and the ache dulled.

I didn't move. I gave her the strength gained by knowing you're not alone. When you're hiding from the world you feel like you're the only one. So I stayed where I was, listening in case anyone found us. And if anyone did, we had an understanding that I'd chase them away. I would even adjust every few minutes so she was reminded she wasn't alone.

I also gave her the warmth of knowing someone is there, of knowing that someone cares enough to say by her even if they don't know what's going through her mind. I was real. I was with her. She wasn't alone.

Eventually the sniffling stopped and I dared to open my eyes. She was still clutching her knees but her head was up, staring at nothing. I didn't speak, just watched to make sure the tears were done and the pain had dulled for now. When she would catch me watching I'd smile then look away when she at least tried to smile back.

Time.

That's the last thing I gave her while we sat in the alcove under the stairs, the vending machine buzz blending in with the blur of voices at lunch. I gave her my strength, warmth, quiet and time. That's all she would need for now. I gave her as much time as the school would allow.

Eventually though, she relaxed, releasing her knees and leaning back against the wall. She gave the tear stains on her cheeks one last frantic scrub. She looked over at me and genuinely smiled. I knew it was real and I knew it was meant for me.

Then the bell rang, signaling lunch was at an end and time was up.

I stood grabbing my bag in one fluid motion. I looked down at her and saw the defeat her face held. I gave her another smile. I offered a hand up. She stared blankly at it then back up at me.

"Don't worry," I told her.

She took my hand and I pulled her to her feet. I didn't stop there. I pulled us through the crowds. She didn't object as I kept ahold of her hand and took us to where I knew her stuff would be.

It sat under an abandoned table. I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder next to my own. Then I pressed through the maze of students and teachers. She still didn't say anything though she held my hand back.

We finally stopped outside her classroom and I finally let go. I turned toward her, noticing her red face. I didn't know if it was from my fast pace or embarrassment from holding my hand. Either way I knew she'd be okay now. The horror in her eyes from earlier was gone.

I'd done what she hadn't thought she could do. Now all she had was time.

A gift. A smile. Another time.

I knew people were staring. I knew she noticed, but I didn't care. I slung both our bags off my shoulder and handed her hers.

She took it and made her way to enter the class but I stopped her. I had one last thing to give her.

"Hold on a second." I knelt down over my bag as she waited patiently in front of me. I unzipped the middle pocket and pulled out my extra blue Voltage Mountain Dew. I stood and handed it to her.

"Smile," I told her with the truest smile I could manage. "And don't worry about the tissue. You can keep it."

I turned away and disappeared into the crowd. I stopped a few classes down at my own room and watched as she looked down at the drink in her hands, smiled then walked into her class.

Blossom.

I didn't see her for the rest of day. I have to admit I wasn't looking. Class had brought me back down into my darkness and so the rest of the day went by in a gray blur. I didn't see her again until Monday.

Every thing had happened on a Friday and that weekend had been shit. The worst I had experience in the past month or so. I could feel my resolve to live slipping as I lay out front of the school on a bench. Life just wouldn't go my way.

My backpack was beneath the bench and I was laid across the length of it, an arm thrown across my eyes to block the sun. I don't know why, but she had been on my mind all week end and she was on my mind again as I sunbathed. I thought of that last smile I'd seen before she'd entered her class. The real one. It was the realest smile I'd seen in a long time.

I felt something cold and weighty rest on my chest. I moved my arm to find a blue Voltage Mountain Dew fresh from the vending machine sitting on my white handkerchief. Beyond it I spotted a head of bright red hair next to my thigh.

I picked up the soda and tissue and swung my legs over the bench so that they rested next to the girl. She looked up and gave me a new smile. It was better than the last. I ran a hand through my hair as I tried to return the smile halfheartedly.

This made her frown. I decided then that I didn't like when she frowned. If I could I'd always have her smiling.

"Smile!" she demanded. I could only chuckle and give her a smirk.

"Maybe," I replied. She just glared at me and I couldn't help the full laugh that escaped me. No had ever yelled at me for not smiling before, or try to glare me down for it. My laughter made her smile though and I truly tried to smile back.

She held out her hand. "Blossom."

"Brick," I took her hand.

Pain. Darkness. Loss.

I'm not without them now that I've met Blossom. I still ride the depression train weekly. But at least I now have a stop I can get off at that is bright instead of black.

We're not best friends or anything; we're just there for each other when the world decides to take the trash out. And that's all we need. I know where to find a smile when I need it.

We wave and smile at each other in the halls, meet up at the vending machine or on the bench every once in awhile. We talk. About life, class, people, things. I know her friends wonder about us, know they think I'm a bad influence but she sticks up for me when they ask, the same I do for her when my brothers want to know who she is.

Together we make the shit life throws at us tolerable. We found our smiles, not the fake ones or ones with false intentions, but the real happy ones full of hope. We found them in each other.

Le Author - so this wasn't originally a PPG fic but I changed the names of the characters so that it would work cuz I wanted you guys to have access to it. The original male character was named Kyle and he had green eye. Blossom was a brunette with gray eye and was named Emily. I didn't change anything else and I hope you enjoyed it. And remember: Smile.