Four o'clock the day after, Shelbie was in the shower, singing, getting ready for another night filled with alcohol, drugs, and loud music. The way she loved it and the way I let her do it disgusted me, but I loved her and I wanted her to be happy. This was what made her happy.

As much as I wanted her to be, she wasn't my girlfriend. I wasn't her boyfriend, though sometimes she accused me of wanting to be. Like the day before when she'd said not to go all 'overprotective boyfriend' on her. That was her way of letting me know that she didn't want a boyfriend. It's confusing, but that's just how she is.

I know she thinks she doesn't believe in love, but she has to. It's real – I think I feel it for her.

I went to stand outside the bathroom to listen to her, and I was so drawn to her voice that I opened the door and sat down on the floor, listening with my eyes closed. I leaned back against the door and started working harmonies in my head to what she was singing. She was on-key and her voice was smooth, something I'd never heard before. She always said she was bad, but now I knew that was a lie. She broke off in the middle of a song and laughed, sighing to herself.

"Oh, Alex," she said quietly, and I thought she was talking to me, but I soon realized that she was talking to herself. "What am I going to do? I don't deserve you. You should never have saved me that day, and I should never have let you even ask me on a date. And you want so badly for us to be official, but if it's official, than it might as well never have existed. Because then it's all about reputations and presents and dates and money and moving in together and who knows what else, and I sure as hell don't want that." She sighed again. "Maybe I should just leave."

"No you shouldn't."

She screamed, her voice echoing in the tile room. The curtain was yanked aside, and there she was, mascara streaked all the way down her face, looking so scared that I couldn't even put it into words. "God, Alex, don't do that," she sighed, relaxing. Then she got mad. "Don't do that. Ever. How long have you been in here?"

"Like two minutes. God, Shel, what's up with you today?"

"I'm just tired," she said shortly.

"Like hell you are," I replied. "I think you should stay home."

She laughed, a cold, empty laugh, moving the curtain back into place. "You don't know anything, Alex. You don't know anything about these parties, or my friends, or my life."

"Then tell me," I pleaded. "I don't know what to do anymore. I have no way to fix this."

"How old are you?" she asked. "Twelve? God, grow up already. I'm a mess. I'm a huge fucking mess."

"No you're not," I countered. "You're fine."

"Do you even see me?" she asked. "Open your eyes. I have no life other than alcohol and you. You. God, Alex, I thought you were gonna be the one to save me. But instead you let me go on with my life."

"I was trying to make you happy."

She didn't answer that.

"Shelbie?" I questioned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she said. "This is my fault." The water turned off, and I picked up the towel and handed it to her. "Thanks. You know, I think I will just go."

"Don't go," I said. "Shelbie, don't go, I need you."

She laughed. "Sure. Of course you do, Alex. You need me, you need me. You just love picking me up drunk in the middle of the night and taking me home and holding my hair back while I throw up."

"I'm not saying that I do. But I know the person you are, the person that you can be. The one I wake up to in the morning that just made me breakfast and was singing in the shower. The beautiful, sweet girl that's not afraid to speak her mind. That's what I need. "

She shook her head. "You only think you do," she said. "You don't even know me."

And then she started crying.

"Shelbie," I said, standing up. "Don't."

"Don't what, Alex? You have no idea what the hell I've been through. You wouldn't even understand," she muttered, stepping out onto the tile and pushing past me out the door.

"Then help me," I said weakly, not knowing what to do. "How can I fix this?" I pleaded. "I want to make this better, Shelbie. I… I l-"

She whirled around and covered my mouth with her hand. "Don't," she said darkly. "Don't you ever, ever say that to me, Alex. Never."

"But it's true," I said, hurt that she would react like this.

She shook her head, smiling sadly. "It doesn't exist, Alex. When are you going to figure that out?"

She put on her clothes and kissed my cheek, and she grabbed her keys and was gone, leaving me there to wonder when or if she would ever come back.

And honestly, my faith in her at this point was low.