Hi guys. Back and more depressed than ever. So I had to kill someone. So I did.

I found out a guy I liked for years is also liked my best friend, and she obviously expects me to let her take him. And with my big self esteem issues, I guess I'll let her. -sighs-

Anyway, I'm sorry for the delay, but life has been hard lately. I don't necessarily like this chapter, I wrote it during my angst periods. WARNING: Character death and a slew of bad language. I might up the rating.

Disclaimer: ...not now.

Meh. I better go write FOTW now.

Wally's frowning at the sky. "Looks like rain," He mutters, crossing his arms and slumping in the back of the Cadillac.

Sighing, I obliged his request and got out of the car, pulling up the top. "I don't get what your deal is, dude. I love the rain."

His chin dropped, completely forgetting the fact that Jen and Rachel were seated in the back. "What kind of man are you? We men don't like that sentimental crap!"

Jen tugged her mouth to one side of her face, placing her hands firmly on her waist. "What was that?"

I steal a grin back in Rachel's direction before starting up the engine. Now, I'm not clairvoyant, but if there was thing I could tell about today was that Fate was playing poker with my life and just set down a full house.

The golf course was relatively empty; Wally's prediction had been proved right when it started to drizzle. It was mini-golf, so the options of ball color were wide. I chose green, Rachel purple, Jen pink, and Wally yellow.

My tongue subconsciously slipped out over my lower lip as I positioned myself on the green, swinging my club on count. I tapped the ball, and it rolled around the edge of the cup and to the opposite side of the turf. Wally slapped his forehead.

"Gar, come on! That's the fifth time you've screwed this up! Just accept that you're not good at golf."

"I'll get it this time, I swear!" I growl, once again shaking my butt a little as I lean down to bring the club on the ball. You'd think I'd be good at golf, since it was about aim the same way soccer was (sort of), but apparently not.

"I give up!" I throw my hands in the air, not bothering to pick up the fallen club or green ball that seemed to be mocking me.

I'm beginning to think that poker hand was just as real as a poker face.

---

It's so hard not to laugh at Gar. Two reasons, really. One is that he is making a complete fool of himself trying to get the 'goddamned mother fucking ball in that fucking cup' (his words and I quote). The other reason, and I'm angry with myself for it, is that he looks…well, adorable. And he's trying, at least, so I need to give him some credit.

"Gar, the next course is this way!" Jen laughs.

"I'm getting something to eat!" He still sounded agitated, so by a quick vote, we decided to follow.

It took only a minutes search to locate Gar. We found him by the ice cream stand next to the supply shop, buying a mint cone from a boy behind the counter, a nametag reading 'Ben'.

Wally and Jen chose to buy their own ice creams, where I just sit down, feeling the vibrating of my cell phone, signaling I had a text message.

'I know.'

I check the number, and my eyes close with dread. Something is going to happen—something bad.

Gar's phone rings, and my heart speeds up. Why, I can't explain. Jen is the only one who seems to notice my shallow breathing.

He gives a faint smile before walking off to answer the call. I turn back to Jen, making small talk as I crane my ears to hear the conversation.

"Yes…this is Garfield Logan…Tara Markov? Yes, I knew her…What? Oh…god…" The ice cream cone and phone drop to the ground. He turned, eyes brimming with tears. "She's dead."

Alarm pours in. "Who, Gar? Who's dead?"

"T-Tara," he stammers. I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he utters her name. "H-her…bloodied corpse was found in an alley about fifteen minutes from school. She had a bullet lodged into her…her head."

Jen's hand flies to her mouth, and Wally's breathe catches in his throat. Me? I fight to do the meanest, rudest thing possible. I fight a smile. I'd recognize his style anywhere.

"I…I think I'm gonna be sick," Wally groans, heading for the bathroom. Forever Jen, her dark eyes roll.

I'm not listening to whatever her excuse is, because guilt is hitting. Oh my god…

A person is dead. And it's my fault.

---

"Rachel…please stay."

"Gar…"

I take her hand, gripping it tightly. This feeling—it's all too familiar. I've felt it before; I fall in love easily. I won't deny it. Too innocent, Wally tells me. I let everyone in, and I get hurt. Is it wrong, to feel this way? The last time…my heart tears a little to think about it.

But Tara…she never stopped being my friend. How could she be gone? Someone's life cut that short. It was as though…as though she had known she was to die.

"T-Tara…"

"Gar, can we talk?"

My eyes dart around nervously, searching one of the guys for help. Request denied. "O-Okay…"

She took a deep breath, peeking around the corner to make sure no one is listening. "Gar, I know that I'm not with you anymore, but I just want to tell you that I love you. You were the best friend I ever had," she gives a nervous laugh, "And not in a relationship-love way, a friend-love way, okay?" Her eyes flickered in a way that made it hard to distinguish what was the truth and was not.

"What are you talking about, Tara?"

"I just want to tell you I know about you and Rachel."

"How—"

"I have my ways." Her voice lowered, "Be careful. You're treading through dangerous waters, Gar. You better know what you're doing going into a relationship with her. And…don't take life for granted, okay?"

"You're kind of scaring me, Tara…"

"You and Rachel are good for each other. Don't let her slip away like the way I let you."

How? How had she known?

'Don't let her slip away like the way I let you.'…What does it all mean? Ugh, my brain hurts…

So much for that poker hand.

---

Damn it, Gar. Why do you have this power over me? Maybe it's the guilt in knowing more than I tell, or maybe it's something entirely different. Right now, all I know is that I need to stay with him. "…Okay."

Just to see the smile, however small, on his face is worth sitting in the rain. For minutes, hours, I've lost track, we just sit there, staring out at the city. I would've never known the golf course, a mini golf course at that would have such a view. I don't show it, but it's…breathtaking, in a word.

He hasn't let go of my hand, I don't think he dares to. Inching closer, I can see his breath in the cold air. Leaning in…oh god…stop this…One person is already dead because of it…it needs to stop…

My mind is a NASCAR race, cars whirring and zipping through the turns. Hmm, and the race track is built on a fault line too, it seems, for it's shaky and uncontrolled. It's hard to explain these feelings.

I've hated Gar for a good portion of my life, without really knowing him. Then, all of a sudden, he's always on my mind, he's always there. I've began to notice smaller things about him. Like the way his eyes light up when he's happy, the different smiles he has, the way he puts up bad humor as a defense mechanism.

Our noses touch, slowly our lips closing the gap of space between…

"Rachel!"

Whoever invented that saying 'Be careful what you wish for' really had something there.

Short chapter. Bad chapter. I'm sorry for the crappiness.

So the drama begins to unfold. This is Romeo and Juliet; some people have to die. And a lot of people will be glad it's Tara, but I didn't choose her because so many hate her. It's for more reasosn we'll see. You didn't think it could be sunshine ponies the whole time, did you?

Review!