"Hey Frank." Jackie plopped down across from me, not one trace of her typical cheerful expression detectable.

"What's wrong? Why'd you have to come over so fast?" My brow furrowed out of concern.

"It's my Mom…" Her lip quivered, tears filling her eyes. They shone in the dim light.

"What about her?" I didn't know what to expect.

"She has cancer." Then she lost it. The tears poured over her lids. Her sobs rang throughout the basement. My jaw dropped.

"I'm so sorry." Tears of my own were starting to form.

She meant everything to me and I couldn't stand seeing her so upset. I pulled her into my lap, holding her as close to me as I could. Her slender arms wrapped around my waist as she rested her face in my chest, her cries causing her back to rise and then fall again. I rubbed her soft hair until the weeping subsided and she fell asleep in my grasp.

~Four Years Later~

"Wake up, sleepy head." Frank's voice rang in my ears as his fingers ran along my sides.

"Stop tickling me, jerk!" I laughed and kicked him lightly away.

"Then get up. You have to go to school." He smiled at me.

"I guess… Or maybe I'll just stay home. I mean I am eighteen now. I can sign my own notes." The purpose was more to remind myself than him that I was eighteen.

The big one-eight. It'd been a week since my birthday but I still couldn't believe it. I was a lot happier since moving in with Frankie. My Dad didn't like it at all but I couldn't take his abuse anymore.

"Yeah; I get it Jack-Jack. You're old. You don't have to repeat yourself." He rolled his eyes, but not in a condescending way.

"Hey ass hole you're older than me by six months so I'd shut up if I were you!" My tongue poked through my lips as I made a mocking face at him.

"Yes but I still look like a baby." He smiled widely with his eyes shut, showing off his perfect rows of pearly whites. I tugged on his thin black lip ring.

It was true, though. He has a cute little face, despite all of his tattoos. He bore two sleeves, a scorpion on his upper neck, "Keep The Faith" over a jack o' lantern on his upper back/neck, "N.J." on the inside of his lip, an anchor on his upper arm with "N.J." on either side of it, both for New Jersey, "Halloween" on his fingers for his birthday, "Search and Destroy" with two crossed guns in the middle on his lower back area, a large chest piece, "bookworm" on his fingers under "Halloween", shin pieces, and many more that I'd forgotten about.

"Yeah you're lucky that way." I sighed.

"You still look young and pretty." He gave me a cheeky smile, but the truth glowed in his eyes.

"You're too nice." I felt myself blush a little. I hated when I did, especially when I could tell it was happening because then it just made my impression of a tomato even more apparent.

"Naw." He said. "Now go get ready, you don't want to be late."

"Alright." I sighed, disgruntled but I obeyed his request.

It was mid-April and that meant only one and a half months of school left. Frank dressed in a green long sleeve under a black t-shirt. His t-shirt had two parallel white stripes on either side of his sleeves. His pants were just regular dark jeans, and he was wearing black canvas vans. He also had a thin black nose ring in the right side of his nose.

"You ready?" Frank tilted his head like a puppy, which deemed fit since he was equally as if not more adorable than one.

"Yeah let's book it. We only have ten minutes to get there." I grabbed my shoulder bag as we headed out the door. He had a plain black back pack covered with buttons of his favorite bands. A good portion of them were Green Day.

We walked our normal route, picking up the pace every time we checked the time. We got there about two minutes short of the bell. As soon as we walked in the door Frank's girlfriend came trotting over. Frank and I were in the reject group of our school; people referred to us as the "emos".

"Hey Jamia." They had a quick kiss before settling to lacing their fingers together.

Jamia wasn't in our group. She was a regular. Apparently Frank had grown to like her over the years and she wasn't one to complain over that. She was pretty normal looking; short black hair, yellow-ish teeth, and a pointy nose. Jamia was taller than him.

I actually didn't mind her most of the time. There would be those moments, though, when I would admit to myself that I'd been in love with Frank since day one. But that wasn't very often. I liked to reassure everyone including my own mind that we were best friends and only best friends.

At the rate that Jamia and Frank were going, I wouldn't be surprised if best friends were all we'd ever be. They'd been dating for two and a half years.

My boyfriend was a year older than us. His name was Mikey. He was a little bit awkward but he was still dorky and adorable. I was starting to really like him. We'd only been dating for a few months but at our school that was considered a lot. Most of the girls in the room had lost their virginities at fifteen if not younger. Mikey and I had only gotten so far as to holding hands. He was quite shy.

The bell rang, ensuing us to an entire day in our prison-like school. I hated each of my classes. The only attention I ever got was negative so I just listened to my iPod and did my work. My teachers thought I was some terrible person. No one talked to me. Ever since my Mom died, I started wearing black. I started painting my nails black, and I wore black eyeliner and mascara for the first time. I got a nose stud and a Marilyn piercing, a hip bar, and a few tattoos.

While all of those things are pretty drastic; you know what the most drastic thing was? I started to cut. Somebody from my gym class saw my wrist in the changing room and decided it was a good idea to tell the counselor. I now have sessions with him every day instead of having a sixth period. As long as I was good in counseling, though, they counted it as a "class" and gave me credit for it.

So I stopped cutting my wrist. What almost nobody knew, though, was that under my tank-tops that I wore in gym were the cuts on my hips. That under the boxers I wore were the cuts on my legs. Frank knew about my wrist. He didn't know about the rest of my body. I knew we were best friends, but how could I tell him? It hurt him so much when he found out about my wrist. I couldn't ever hurt him again, no matter how much it hurt me when I saw him and Jamia together. Besides it wasn't his fault he loved her.

Mikey knew about everything. He was the kind of person you could tell anything to, and he wouldn't show that it hurt him. He told me he didn't like it but that he accepted it as a part of me. He drew butterflies on my hips to get me to stop. He said no matter how much I wanted to cut, as long as those butterflies were there, I couldn't. Because if I cut it would kill them.

He knew exactly how many butterflies I killed, but he still remained hopeful that this would work.

Frank, Jamia, and I were all hanging out in Frank's apartment after school, just as we did every day. Mikey was running late but that was just because he worked all day and showered before coming over.

We watched the first part of some horror movie that Frank and I'd seen more than enough times. Jamia had seen it before, too, yet she somehow got "super frightened" every time it came on.

"Frankie, I'm scared." She whined and scooted closer to him, holding onto his arm and resting her head on his shoulder.

I winced at her using my childhood nickname for him. I had to admit that it wasn't too original, but I still considered it my creation. I called him Boo sometimes since he was born on Halloween and I thought it fit. I sat there chipping the black off of my nails, bored as heck until Mikey walked in with some snacks and drinks.

"Hey guys." He had a cute and very smooth voice. He was past that awkward voice-cracking stage in his teenage years.

I stood up and wrapped him into a hug, my arms around his neck and his around my waist.

"Hey babe." My voice was muffled by his shoulder.

"How was your day at school?" He asked me.

"Good." I lied. "How was your day at work?"

"Good." He did the same. We both liked to pretend that we actually enjoyed our daily activities, even though we were fully aware of each other's hate for them.

I glanced over at Frank and realized that he and Jamia decided it was a good time to swap tongues. I rolled my eyes and grabbed Mikey's hand, leading him into my room. I had a small-ish bed, a dresser, make-up, a closet, some incents and assorted candles, a rug, and a single light bulb on the ceiling. That was about it.

Mikey sat down on my bed and leaned against the wall, patting his lap as an invitation for me to sit there. I did so and wrapped my arms around his chest while resting my face in the crook of his neck.

"Bad day." I whispered.

"What happened?" He began to rub my back comfortingly.

"He made me talk about my Mom again."

Mikey knew exactly who "he" was. "I want to get you out of that stupid counseling. It's only making things worse." There was anger in his voice, which was rare for him.

"I know…" He pushed me slightly away, pulling up my shirt until it uncovered the cuts.

"They're fresh." He stated, disappointment flashing throughout his face only for a second. He then regained his emotionless composure.

"I know…" I repeated myself, looking down with him. I saw the Sharpied-on butterfly that I had to cut through. I always left a small area clean so he could draw a butterfly in it, but I'd recently run out of room.

He set my shirt back down. "Jackie…"

"I know what you're gonna say." I interrupted him, groaning.

"Then why don't you ever listen?" He frowned, a familiar look spreading across his features.

"It's hard. I try, I really do. But it's addicting. It makes me feel better so I don't see what's wrong with it." I rested my head on his shoulder again.

"There are other things you can do to make you feel better." He reminded me.

"Yeah, I know…" I got this lecture often.

Mikey reached in his pocket and pulled out the permanent marker, lifting my shirt again and drawing one right above all of my scars. It was bigger than it normally was.

"Please." The look in his eyes was different this time; more intense. I realized that I had to do this for him.

"How long?" I asked.

"A month."

I took a deep breath. "Okay." I breathed out.

"You promise?"

"Pinkie promise." I locked pinkies with him.

He pulled on the back of my leg so I was sitting on his lap while facing him. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he stared deep into my eyes. My heartbeat sped up and I felt intimidated under his gaze. He had hazel-green eyes, with a large portion of brown in the right one. His blonde hair was pushed back. He had a very strong jaw line, and a slightly pointed nose. He was handsome.

"Mikey?" I asked breathlessly.

"Mhmm?" He asked from his throat, his lips un-parted.

"I really like you."

"I really like you, too." His gaze slowly lowered to my lips, and then back up into my eyes as if to warn me.

He leaned in gradually. I separated my lips slightly a mere second before his met mine. My entire body relaxed, apart from my stomach. I set one hand on the side of his neck and pushed the other into his hair, moving in to make the kiss more passionate.

After a couple minutes of gentle kissing, things began getting heated up. He slid his hands into the back pockets of my jean shorts, pulling me as close to his body as he could. His tongue pushed its way through my lips, roaming the inside of my mouth. I pulled away and breathed for a second, then went back for more.

It felt really good. This was actually only my second time being kissed. The first was my father. The only difference was that this felt right, while that didn't at all…

"Mikey…" I gasped as his hands roamed up my shirt and under my bra.

I'm sorry." His eyes widened and he quickly pulled his hands out of my shirt.

"Don't be." I kissed him again, taking his hands and leading them back to where they were.

He caressed my skin as we tasted each other's mouths. I reached my hands between us and undid his pants, sliding them down a little as I pulled my lips away from his.

"Mikey, I wanna…" I looked down to the most noticeable part in his boxers and then back up at him.

He gave me a quick nod and then closed his eyes. I tugged on his underwear, revealing an impressive member. A blush crept into his cheeks. I could tell he was nervous. So was I. I stroked it with my hand, following up with my mouth. He tasted sweet.

I paid special attention to the head because it seemed to get the most reaction out of him. My tongue rolled against it, causing a quick moan to escape his lips. He held the hair out of my face for me. I sped up, careful not to let my teeth hurt him. He started to tense up.

"Jackie, I'm cumming…" He warned me.

I kept going until he came in my mouth. I swallowed it. It wasn't half as bad as I thought it would be. I grabbed a piece of gum from my pocket and stuck it in my mouth.

He set his hands on either side of my face and kissed me lightly. "Thank you." He whispered. I could tell he really meant it.

I smiled at him as I kissed the skin behind his ear. "It'll happen again." I whispered back.

He pulled his pants and underwear back up and redid his pants. And just in time, too because Frank walked in as soon as I sat back down next to Mikey.

"Hey guys. Jamia's gone. Sorry you felt like you had to leave." He laughed awkwardly.

His pants were unzipped and his hair was a mess. I could tell he'd gotten equally if not more attention than Mikey had. It was hard to accept the fact that I'd never be with Frank. But Mikey was really amazing.

"What do you wanna do?" I asked them.

"Well it's seven so I made dinner." He smiled.

"Okay we'll be right out." Mikey waited for him to leave before he turned to me and held me close. "You're perfect." He whispered in my ear.

Perfect. It was a lot to live up to.