Gordie pulled out the thin Castle Rock phone directory, running his finger down the A's. He picked up the phone, keeping his finger on the number he was dialing so he wouldn't lose his place. He listened to the monotonous ring in his ear as he waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

The voice was low and gruff. He hadn't heard that voice in years, and he hadn't wanted to. Suddenly he felt dizzy and he had to sit down at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. "Hi, Mr. Aarons. Is Brooke home?"

"Uhhh, yeah…" Mr. Aarons said slowly, as if he wasn't sure if Brooke was actually home or not. "Just a minute." There were scuffling noises, then the sound of Brooke's name being called, followed by more scuffling.

"Hello?"

Brooke's voice was smaller on the phone, more child-like. Gordie looked out the kitchen window at the setting sun, cleared his throat, and said, "Hey."

"Who is this?"

"Oh, sorry." He smiled softly, without mirth. Why was he calling her? "Uh, this is Gordie Lachance."

"Gordie?" she asked, the surprise loud in her voice.

"Gordie," he confirmed with a laugh.

"Hi," she said, kind of cheerful in an amazed way. "Why are you calling?"

Good question.

He shrugged. "Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to meet somewhere and go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"You know, exercise?"

"You want to walk with me?"

Gordie grinned at her genuine surprise. He thought she would have had tons of guys calling her every night. "If you're not busy."

"I'm not busy," she said, as if she couldn't clarify that enough. "Where do you want to meet?"

"How about at Peterson's in twenty minutes?"

"I can be there in fifteen," she giggled.

"Fifteen it is," Gordie said, finding her laughter contagious…and almost endearing.

Gordie got to Peterson's convenience store first. He rested against the bike rack and waited for Brooke, looking up at the September sky. The golden streaks of descending sun reminded him of the leaves on the autumn trees, which in turn reminded him that this was his last fall before he had to really grow up.

"Hi Gordie," he heard his name called. He looked away from the sky, but couldn't focus because all he could see were bright yellow dots from looking at the sun for too long.

"Hi--" he said, rubbing at his eyes.

"Do you have something in your eye?" Brooke laughed, curiously, as she got closer to him.

"Bright lights!" he exclaimed.

"Ahh, are you blinded?"

"Momentarily, yep." Still rubbing his eyes, he said, "But I'm good to walk."

She watched as he walked forward blindly, and decided to stop him before he hit a lamppost. "Hmm. Gordie, stop walking now."

Gordie stopped. "Am I about to run into something?"

"I'm afraid so. I would feel bad for the lamppost."

"Maybe I need some assistance."

"Or maybe you should take your hands away from your eyes," she giggled, but offered him her arm to take hold of. "Where are we walking?"

"Preferably not in traffic. I don't know, in a straight line, I guess." Even though the spots were fading, he still held onto her arm. She was surprisingly soft. He'd had absolutely no desire to touch this girl before and had never thought of what her skin might feel against his, but now that he knew, he didn't really want to let go. He briefly wondered if that was a bad thing.

"You weren't at school today, were you?" Brooke asked. "Can you see now?"

"I can see, yeah," Gordie replied, and they both pulled their arms away at the same time as if that was the right thing to do. "And no, I wasn't at school today."

"Why not?"

"Well, usually when someone misses school, it's because they're sick," he stalled.

"Yeah, but why did you miss school?" Brooke looked over at him. She was slightly taller than he was; he'd never noticed that before. "It wasn't because of that thing after school, was it?"

"What, that thing with you assuming things about my family?" he asked.

"Yeah, and that thing with you assuming things about my family."

"No. But the fight made me miss my brother, and the next morning I woke up in his bed and I didn't want to get out of it."

Brooke nodded silently. Then, she took a sharp intake of breath like she was going to say something, but instead just sighed.

Gordie looked at her expectantly.

She grimaced. "Why…Just tell me why you called me tonight, Gordie, why you're with me right now. Twenty-four hours ago, you hated me and you treated me like I didn't exist."

Of course he didn't know the answer to her question--he'd been asking himself that same thing the entire walk to Peterson's. He decided to try and make something up. "Some of the things you said yesterday kinda hit home. And tonight…I got into a fight with my dad. He said stuff about your family, and before I knew it, I was sticking up for you. Deep down, I know it wasn't your fault that Denny died. Your dad's got a problem, and my brother paid for it. It was a needless death, but I shouldn't be blaming you for it. But Brooke, he meant the world to me. You don't know how alone I am at home without him. I used to think that it should have been me, but a friend of mine taught me how to stop thinking that way. My parents still do think it should have been me though, and I live with that, everyday, knowing that they would give me up in a second if it meant they could have Denny back. I just needed someone to blame for everything that sucked at home, you know? And you kept trying to reach out to me, and so you were the only one there for me to hate and you took all that shit I gave to you."

Brooke kept looking down at the sidewalk. Gordie wasn't sure if she was even listening, so he tried something else. "So I called you. Because I'm sorry."

Still keeping her eyes hidden from his, Brooke muttered, "I just hope you're not using me to get back at your parents."

"I'm not," he said honestly, although he could see how she would think that.

When she looked at him, it was like a reward. "Denny shouldn't have died, and I'm sorry for what my family has put yours through. I know it'll take forever for you all to stop grieving, because Denny really was special, but I think it's really fucked up for them to make you feel like the ghost, because you're not the son that's gone and you're all they have left, so they should thank God that they still have you. Umm, so there."

He smiled sadly. "Run on sentence."

"Yes." She smiled back. "Kitty."

"Kitty what?" he blurted, staring at her like she was insane.

"Hello," she said, kneeling down at the side of a scrawny tabby. She ran her hand over its matted fur and it stretched languidly to meet her touch. "I love you. Ahhhh, Gordie, I love her!"

He laughed. "Get a room." He started to back away. "Come on, Brooke, it probably has rabies."

"She doesn't have rabies. There would be foaming of the mouth going on if she had rabies." Brooke scratched the cat behind the ear and then followed Gordie resentfully. But she looked over her shoulder to see the cat following closely. She whispered, "Come on, kitty!"

"Brooke!"

"What?"

"I don't want the damn creature following me home. Go home."

"Who, me?" Brooke demanded.

"No, I was talking to the cat," he said impatiently. "Let's go."

Pouting, she sulked at Gordie's side, but giggled when the rubbed against Gordie's leg.

"Aghhh-it's humping me!!" Gordie yelled, grabbing Brooke.

Brooke laughed wildly. "She lurves you!" she cried, tears streaming profusely down her cheeks. "She's not humping you, only dogs do that! She's just marking her territory!"

"I am no cat's territory! Stay away!"

"She wants you to be hers," she cackled. "Owww, I can't breathe…Gordie, stop being funny!"

"I'm not funny, I'm pissed!"

Brooke snorted.

Gordie glared at her. But then he also cracked up. So, this was Brooke.

The cat followed them all the way back to Gordie's house.

"She loves you, Gordie," Brooke said.

"I hate her, Brooke," he replied.

"She doesn't have a home!"

"How do you know? Maybe you kidnapped her."

"It's all dirty and sad and in love with you."

"Great."

"And lonely."

"Yeah."

"Lonely."

"I don't want it!"

"Gordie, she could keep you company and love you when your dad's being stupid."

Gordie glared at the cat. "You're probably hungry, huh." It rubbed against his leg again. "Stop being sexual with my leg."

Brooke scooped her up. "Look at this face, Gordie."

Gordie groaned. "Fine. I'll give her some food or something. But I'm taking her to like a shelter or something in the morning."

"Awww, you have a soft side!"

"Not for cats."

"What are you going to name her?"

"I'm not naming her. I'm not keeping her." When he saw Brooke's crestfallen face, he sighed. "I will call her Cat."

"Cat?"

"Yeah." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father peek out the front window at them. "Anyway, Brooke, I'd better go inside."

"Okay." She smiled. "I'm glad we got to…walk?"

"Yeah." He grinned. "Walking is good exercise."

Brooke let Cat settle into Gordie's arms, and he held her awkwardly. "Goodnight, Gordie."

When Gordie went inside, his father was sitting in his favourite armchair. "Was that that Aarons girl you were just with?"

"Yeah," he said smugly.

Mr. Lachance stared at him. "And is that a cat?"

"Yeah." Gordie grinned and went into the kitchen to find something for Cat to eat.