The air was heavy and warm, thick with the sterile smell of cleaning chemicals. A talk-show was playing on a small television screen, but had been put on mute. The only sounds were the soft buzz of an intercom, the squeak of trolley wheels on linoleum, and an eagle quietly trying to distract her weeping son with one of the battered picture books in the waiting room's tiny library. I flicked y through one of the magazines, an Elle from three years ago. I stared at the clothes without really seeing them. I was too aware of my surroundings - the hard orange plastic of the chair, the nurses walking past, the weary patients in trolleys, attached to what looked like a million tubes. Part of me wished that I'd taken Sally up on her offer when she'd asked me if I wanted her to stay, but I panicked and said no, thinking that the car ride over had been tense enough. I'd regretted it almost immediately when I looked up at the big brown-brick building.

I hadn't been to a hospital in years, and the memories filled the waiting room now, though I tried to push them down. My mother had fallen into a deep trance when he died. She only left the house to go to work everyday and when she came home she would sit and stare at the television screen, without seeing what was happening. She didn't put on makeup, or brush her hair. She stopped showering or changing her clothes. She got fired from her waitressing job and stayed in bed all day, staring blankly at the ceiling.

I was eleven years old. I knew how to get the bus to school, I knew how to boil water for noodles and heat up soup. I knew that what he'd done to me was wrong and that I was glad he was dead, but I also knew that there was no way that I could tell that to my mother. I don't know if she would have heard me. When she stopped eating I freaked out and called Aunt June who made her see a doctor. He diagnosed her with depression and told her she was pregnant. She came home with pizza and kissed me hard before I went to sleep. Then she gathered up some pills, lay down next to the building's bins, and tried to let the drugs and the cold take her away.

She was found a few hours later by some students from the university. They called an ambulance. Aunt June clasped my hand tightly as we went to see her, curled up in her hospital bed, refusing to meet our eyes. All she could tell me was that she was sorry, sorry that I'd ended up with her as a mother. I was sent to live with my grandmother while she was treated. Aunt June paid for a private counsellor. Even now, I could remember every detail. The sounds. The smell.

I hated hospitals.

"Amy?"

I looked up. Shadow was standing there in front of me. He was dressed in a rumpled black t-shirt and sweatpants, and he looked like he hadn't slept. He probably hadn't. I knew from Blaze's phone-call that Maria had been brought in last night, that Shadow and her grandfather had been with her. They must have stayed the night.

I stood up and Shadow pulled me into a hug, letting out a choked sob. I hugged him back, too worried to even be surprised by the sudden contact. "Is she - is she okay?"

Shadow pulled away and quickly rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand. "I … I don't know."

"What happened?" I whispered. My heart was stuck somewhere in my throat. Nobody had been able to tell me what was actually wrong with Maria.

Shadow swallowed. "She collapsed. After a ballet class." There was something strange about the way he said it, like he was holding something back.

"What do you mean she collapsed?" My voice was steadily getting shriller. "Like - sixteen year old's don't just suddenly collapse for no reason."

"There's a reason," Shadow said. "I just - fuck, the irony. I've wanted to tell someone for months. Wanted her to tell someone. And now - I don't know how."

"Shadow. You're scaring me," my voice trembled. I was imagining all kinds of things - terminal illnesses, rare conditions with no cure. I thought about what losing Maria would do to me. She was my best friend. I'd been so distracted over the last few weeks, between Sonic and Sally and Elias that I hadn't spent enough time with her. What if I never got to? What if we never had another chance to watch Audrey Hepburn movies and paint our nails? To burn an apple pie? What if I never got another vanilla-scented hug?

"Shadow," I said, close to tears. "Can I go and see her?"

He nodded. He led me down the hallway in silence. I tried to steady my breathing, to ignore the pounding of my heart, to block out my surroundings, but those images were flashing in my head again - images of Maria and of my mother. I found myself reaching for Shadow's hand. He squeezed it and we were united, joined together by how much we loved Maria.

Please be okay.

"She has her own room," Shadow said. We were standing outside a grey door, in a quieter part of the hospital. "She - we don't know how long she's going to have to stay. What kind of treatment she's going to get."

I nodded, hearing his words but not absorbing them. Please please please be okay.

He made to open the door, paused, and turned back to face me. His expression seemed strained somehow. "Maria thinks a lot of you, you know."

He sounded like he was warning me of something. I swallowed. "I think a lot of her too … and that won't change."

He nodded and I saw the relief in his eyes. "Okay."

He knocked twice on the door before opening it. It was spacious and well-ventilated, bathed in yellow light. Maria lay huddled in a bed, the sheets pulled up to her chin. She had her back to us and for a second I thought she was sleeping, but she turned around to face us when she saw us walk in. She stared at us, not saying a word. I tried to search her face for something, any kind of sign of what was wrong, but she just looked tired. Her grandfather, who was sitting on a chair beside the bed, looked far worse. Ashen-faced and trembling, his clothes rumpled like he'd slept in the chair, he didn't resist as Shadow led him out of the room to get a cup of tea in the canteen. My heart broke watching him leave. His daughter was dead, as was his wife. Maria was all he had.

"Why did you come?" Maria asked me suddenly. Her voice sounded croaky, like she hadn't used it in a while. I didn't immediately know how to respond, because the answer was so obvious.

"Because you're my friend," I said. "You're - you're important to me. I care about you."

Maria's face crumpled. She turned her face away from me, but it was clear that she was crying. I pulled the now-vacant chair over to her bedside and sat down beside her. There were no medical tubes or devices or any of the other scary equipment that I associated with hospitals. Just a notice in squiggly writing with different times scrawled on it, and a tray of largely untouched food.

"Maria, what's wrong? What did the doctors say?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, her voice muffled from the blanket. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!" I cried. "Everyone's worried about you!"

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "That makes me feel even worse. It's been so awful Amy - Shadow and Pépére, they're so scared, and I keep trying to tell everyone that I'm fine, I was just overworked from my ballet class, I didn't drink enough water afterwards, I had a dizzy spell. I'm okay now. I just want to go home, and forget that any of this ever happened."

"But then - why are you still here, Maria?" I wanted to believe her, but I saw her chart, I saw that she was scheduled for blood tests and weigh-ins and even a psych eval. Something was deeply wrong with her, and the fact that she couldn't seem to tell me made me even more worried. "They wouldn't keep you here for no reason …"

She didn't answer. She just buried her head deeper into her blankets. Her hair - which she usually kept so neat - was unwashed, and strands of it covered her pillow. She was always shedding it. Was that a symptom of something? Had she been sick for a while? This couldn't have come from nowhere.

"Maria … let me try to help you. Please."

"Nobody can help me," she whispered.

"We can try," I urged. "Me and Shadow and Blaze and - and everyone. Whatever you're going through, whatever's wrong, we're going to stick right by you. But you need to let us know what's wrong."

Maria was silent for a long time. Then slowly, she pulled herself out from under the sheets. She sat up in the bed, letting the sheets fall away from her. She was dressed in a skimpy white pyjama top. It would barely have come up over my hips, but it seemed oversized on Maria's skeletal form. I felt my breath catch again, the same fear and repulsion that I'd felt come over me in the bathroom at the dance come over me now. I could practically count her ribs. The hospital setting suddenly seemed to contextualise a lot of things that I'd noticed over the past few months - the half-finished carrot sticks in Maria's lunchbox, the way she toyed endlessly with her salad when we went out for lunch, the way she filled up on fizzy water and diet soda at sleepovers. The distracted way she stared out the window, as if her mind was somewhere else entirely. The shadows that had started appearing under her eyes. The oversized sweaters and petticoats she wore. The way she'd started culling her wardrobe. The mixture of shame and pride on her face as I took in her body in the bathroom.

"Oh … Oh Maria …"

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to reach out and hug her but I was scared of breaking her. All I could do was reach out and squeeze her hand, in a desperate attempt to remind myself that she was still here.

"It's fine," she whispered. "Everyone's - everyone's overreacting."

Anger surged through me. "Of course you're not fine, Maria! Look at yourself!" I knew from something I'd read that people with eating disorders often had body-image issues, dysphoria so strong that they saw imaginary weight everywhere, but the reality was suddenly so clear to me that I genuinely couldn't believe it. "Don't you see how sick you are?"

Something flashed in Maria's eyes. "Of course I see it," she said. The edge in her voice surprised me. "Everytime I see you guys enjoy a cake, or - or the way that I feel dizzy when I stand up. The way that I feel too tired to dance. The way that I maybe-intentionally never follow the recipe in Home Economics because I don't want to be tempted by whatever it is we're supposed to have made. I know that these things aren't normal, or healthy but I just. Can't. Stop."

She choked out the last few words, obviously angry and upset and fed-up with what was going on. It was clear that this was something she'd been carrying around with her for a long long time. My mouth felt useless and numb.

"But - but can't you see how beautiful you are? You don't need to lose weight, Maria. Seriously. That makes me practically obese. Not that …. that doesn't … it shouldn't matter."

I realised even as I said it that these weren't the right things to say. I was basically telling someone with a mental illness to just 'get over it' - you think that you have problems? There are people dealing with war and famine right now! It was stupid. You'd never say that to someone with a broken bone. But I had no idea what to do. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her body, the crevices of her ribcage, the way her collarbone jutted out alarmingly. How hadn't I seen that something was deeply deeply wrong with Maria? Was I that bad a friend?

She shook her head sadly "You don't get it, Amy. It's … it started out like that, you know? When - when my parents died. I was pretty young and, I guess I kind of found comfort in food. It filled the hole, you know? My grandmother always baked pies, and I used to go to Vanilla's house and she'd make pancakes for dinner. It worked for a while, I guess. The effects weren't really noticeable until I started going through puberty. I got teased for the weight gain. My dance teacher said - said some pretty nasty things, if I'm honest." she smiled weakly. "I don't know how she was allowed to work with children, truly."

I ignored her attempt to lighten the mood. "So - what happened?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I stopped eating. Started working out, a little obsessively. And … I don't know. It all sort of escalated. I was thirteen the first time I made myself throw up. I guess that that was my first real sign that something was wrong, but …" she trailed off, her brow furrowing suddenly as if she was thinking of something else entirely. I imagined her at thirteen, blonde hair hanging over the porcelain toilet seat, gagging as she forced her fingers down her throat and her eyes watering. I felt weak.

"So this has been going on for years?"

"It's … been on and off. I felt better for a little while, when Shadow and I first started dating. I I didn't want to upset him, you know? I didn't want him to worry about me. But he found out, he freaked out, and … remember how we broke up before Sally's Halloween party?"

"I do."

"Well … I broke up with him because he wanted me to tell my grandfather. When we got back together I swore to him that I would eat properly again. And I did try, but the Christmas holidays were just so difficult. It just reminds me of all of the family who aren't around anymore. My grandfather doesn't cook properly, and - it just makes it so easy not to eat. It's easier to starve myself than it is to actually finish a meal."

"Why do you think that is?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Control, maybe? It was like - I didn't ever have to think about my grief. I didn't have to think about my parents. I could just … focus on counting calories, or making up excuses to get out of eating. It was so much easier."

"You never talk about them dying," I said, realisation dawning on me. "That must … It must have been really hard.

Maria's bottom lip trembled. Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head furiously.

"You don't have to talk to me about it," I said quickly. "If you don't - I don't know, you might not trust me with something like that. But you could talk to one of the other girls, if it's too hard to talk to Shadow. Or a professional. Someone here at the hospital, Maria. You need help. You need to talk to someone."

"I want to talk to you," she whispered. "I've wanted to tell you for ages. I've come so close, on the way back from the Halloween party, and at the Sadie Hawkins dance, and during all of our Skype calls and sleepovers, I just …"

"I - I'm so sorry, Maria. I'm sorry for not being a better friend. I should have noticed, I should have - "

"You didn't notice because I didn't let you!" she cried. "I wanted to tell you, but not as much I didn't want you to see me like this, I never wanted you to worry or - or to think I was damaged or something. I sometimes feel that because Shadow and I are so close, there's this distance between me and the other girls. I love them, but … even before Shadow and I started dating, he was my best friend. But now … I was just so happy when you moved here. I felt like we really clicked. I wanted to be your friend so badly."

"I wanted to be your friend too," I swallowed. "I was just … I was always so scared that you'd think I was weird."

"Why would I ever think that?"

"Because … I have panic-attacks sometimes." I bit down so hard on my lip that I could taste blood. "I'm … I didn't have a lot of friends before I came here. I didn't think that you'd like me if you knew what a mess I was. That's why I distanced myself from you after the whole thing at New Year's."

"You think you're a mess?" Maria sniffed. Her eyes were shining with tears, but she tried to smile weakly. "When I'm the one in a hospital bed?"

"You're sick, Maria. It's not your fault."

Something changed in her expression. She swallowed hard, the tears in her eyes brimming over. "Sometimes I think it is."

"What?"

"Sometimes I think I deserve it. To feel hungry. I don't deserve to eat." Her voice wobbled. I reached out and squeezed her hand, hard. My own throat was burning as I blinked back my own tears. "Sometimes I wish that I was dead too." she whispered. "Like my parents. Instead of my parents. I feel like I shouldn't be here, sometimes."

I didn't know what to say. I just squeezed her hand more tightly, and tried to force down the lump in my throat. All this time I'd been worried about what Maria would think if I told her what was wrong with me. It hadn't occurred to me that she might be feeling the same. I remembered how she'd begged me not to tell Shadow how sick she was at the dance, how she put on a brave face before stepping outside, how she lied through her fake smile even though her heart was breaking breaking breaking ...

"We want you here," I said softly. "All of us. You're such a wonderful person."

I thought about how much she meant to me. How much all of it meant to me, the sleepovers, the Skype calls, the shopping trips. The way we danced around to records in her room, her passionate rants about ballet, her encyclopedia-like knowledge of 50s and 60s cinema. Her vanilla-scented hugs. Her generosity. Her sweetness. The way she always came after me when I needed help - at the New Year's Party, and afterwards when I'd hidden away from everyone.

"I just feel all this pressure," she whispered. "To be happy and optimistic all the time. Especially since my grandmother died, I've felt like I have to be strong for my grandfather. But it means that I never really got to grieve properly. Got to deal with any of it."

She never gave up on me. I couldn't let her give up on herself.

"You know you have to, right? I mean - you have to let people help you. At the very least, all of the people here. It's their job to do it, you don't have to feel guilty or anything."

She nodded.

"You shouldn't feel guilty if you have to come to us either," I said. "Because that's what friends are for. We're going to help you get through this." I swallowed. "You're my best friend, Maria. I love you."

Her face softened. "I love you too."

We were silent for a while. I sensed that Maria wanted a distraction, so I showed her some videos on YouTube. We talked about the new Taylor Swift album, about school. We briefly touched on Sonic and Sally, but I didn't want to think about that right now. I told her a little of what happened with Elias and Megan. We talked about Vanilla's upcoming wedding, and how Cream seemed to be taking it better. How Tails was starting testosterone soon. The games that Abigail was inventing, how she was begging me to have all of my friends over to play along with her make-believe world. A little light seemed to return to Maria's eyes, but I saw the panic flicker in them when the nurses came in to take her to be weighed and have her bloods tested. She looked quickly at me and I tried to smile reassuringly.

She was going to be okay. She had to be.

I was going to be right by her side to make sure of it.

I went right to my bedroom when I got home. Mom had sent Matthew to pick me up from the hospital. It should have been awkward, but I was so exhausted that I didn't even notice. Matthew, to his credit, seemed to intuitively understand that I needed space and put on the radio. I lay down on my bed and took a deep breath as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened. I could hear Matthew talking to my mom in the kitchen. Abigail knocked on my door a few minutes later - she never would have done that a few months ago. She was getting used to our separate sleeping quarters.

"Mom wants to know if you want to get a takeaway?"

"Sounds good," I said wearily. Abigail closed the door gently behind her. A few minutes later, she slipped a sheet of paper under the door - a magic marker drawing of the two of us. It brought a smile to my face. I replied to some of the girl's messages, though I didn't tell them all the details. I thought that Maria would want to do that herself. They wanted to visit her in the hospital. I managed to discourage Cream from bringing her a muffin basket, and praised Cosmo's idea to bring her some flowers and magazines.

A new message appeared in my inbox - from Shadow.

Shadow Terios: Thanks for everything today.

I typed out a quick response.

Amy Rose: I'm here if you need to talk.

He didn't reply. But I didn't expect that from Shadow. He didn't come online at all, and I hoped that he had gone to bed. Maria wasn't online either, but I sent her a quick message too. Her grandfather was still with her. I hoped she was okay.

I came out of my bedroom when the food arrived. Matthew was getting plates together and unpacking boxes. Mom saw me and pulled me into a tight hug. I buried my face in her chest and tried to breathe her in. Seeing her made all of the memories come rushing back again.

"Are you okay, sweetie?"

I nodded. I would be.

"You can stay home from school tomorrow if you want," she whispered. Then, straightening up she turned and smiled at Matthew. "Thanks for picking her up."

"No problem," Matthew turned his sympathetic brown eyes to me. "I'm sorry about your friend, Amy. If you want a lift over to visit her just as your mom to call me."

"That's … really nice of you to offer," I smiled. "Thanks Matthew."

He got a little bashful and quickly resumed getting the food ready, gathering plates and cutlery. Mom gazed lovingly at him. It was pretty gross, but also pretty adorable. I liked seeing her happy, after everything she'd been through. It made me feel a little more optimistic about Maria.

"Can we eat now?" Abigail sighed. Her expression was a perfect copy of mom's, though the object of her affections was the egg-fried rice.

"How about we watch a movie?" Mom suggested. "I kind of want to stretch out on the couch and relax."

"Sounds like a plan," Matthew agreed. "Amy?"

"I'm in," I grinned. "What will we watch?"

We let Abigail decide. She dithered over a couple of animated films while the rest of us made ourselves comfortable. Mom and Matthew sat on the sofa. I wanted to give them so space, so I sat down in the squashy armchair.

"Have you chosen yet, Abbs?"

"I'm still thinking!" Abigail wailed, flicking back and forth between the different films.

"This could take a while," Mom sighed. "We may as well start eating while it's still hot."

"I'm just going to change" I said. I went into my bedroom and pulled on a cable-knit brown and cream jumper. It was big and comfy and formerly belonged to Maria. I wanted to keep her close to me. It still smelt like her - vanilla, lavender, and comfort. My little rose-quartz was resting on the windowsill. I rubbed my finger over it, thinking. Aunt June had given it to me around the time that Mom was in hospital.

As I was walking back to the living room, I heard a knock on the door. Confused, I opened it up and my breath caught in my throat.

"Hi …"

"Hey," Sonic said. He didn't say anything for a couple of seconds and I took him in - navy jeans, grey jumper, red sneakers, tousled quills, panic-stricken expression. He swallowed. "Can I - can we talk?"

"Amy?" Mom's voice called from the other room. "Who is it?"

"It's um, it's Sonic," I replied. "He's a friend from school."

I heard Abigail's excited gasp, and she came running into the hall. "Sonic! You're here!" She threw herself at him, nearly knocking her over. I cringed internally, but in spite of the tension between us, he managed to smile at her. "Hey Abigail. How's it going?"

"Are you here to play?" Abigail asked bluntly.

"Maybe some other time," he replied. He straightened up, not meeting my eyes. Not that I was complaining. After everything that had happened today, after the emotional rollercoaster I'd been on, I didn't know how I'd handle it …

"Sonic," my mom said, coming into the hallway behind us. Her face was fixed into a smile as she reached out to shake his hand. "I don't think we've met. I'm Amy's mom."

"It's nice to meet you," Sonic replied. "I'm uh - I'm sorry to intrude."

"Not at all," her eyes met mine and her smile widened. "Would you like to stay for a while? We have plenty of food."

"We got a takeaway!" Abigail piped up. "And we're going to watch a movie."

"I'm sure Sonic has better things to do than - " I said quickly.

"I don't want to impose - " Sonic interjected, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just um - I just wanted to talk to Amy for a few minutes, if that's okay."

"Sure, sure." Mom nodded. If she was wondering why he hadn't just texted me, she didn't ask. I was wondering it myself. She bustled Abigail back in to the living room and left us alone in the hallway. I folded my arms across my chest and bit my lip as I tried to think of something to say. Things weren't as tense between us as they'd been before the dance, but even so the memories of everything that Sally had said earlier in the car were fresh in my mind.

"He likes you more."

"You've redecorated," Sonic noted, nodding at the new pictures on the wall. "It looks nice."

"Thanks," I said. "Do you, um, do you want a drink?"

He followed me into the kitchen. I poured him a glass of Sprite. I willed my hands not to shake as I handed it to him. Our fingers met briefly - his fingers felt warm against the cool glass. A shiver ran down my spine.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said quickly. "I guess. Why?"

"I heard about Maria," he said. "That she's in hospital."

"Oh. Right." My mouth felt dry. He downed his drink and stared at me, his brow furrowed in concern. I wished that he wouldn't look at me like that. I hated thinking that he cared about me, after everything. Especially now that I knew how Sally felt.

It's so unfair to let someone love you

Maria's words echoed in my ears and I let out a gasp. Sonic quickly set his glass down on the table and pulled me into a hug, pressing me close against his chest. I clung to him, not even thinking about the warmth of his body or his oh-so familiar smell, as tears filled my eyes. Everything seemed to come crashing down around me at once - the realisation that Maria, Sonic, and I had all been hiding things to try and protect the people that we cared about. Our friends. Our families. Even Elias had done that, when he'd decided to become what his parents wanted him to be so he could provide for his child, even if it meant losing her and Megan.

Maria had tried to push Shadow away so she wouldn't hurt him. It was exactly what Sonic had done so he could focus on being there for everything else. It was what I did to the girls when they were worried about me.

I tried to stifle my sobs, but Sonic tightened his grip on me and whispered words of comfort - "It's okay, Ames. I'm here." Ames. It was too much.

"I'm fine," I sniffed, pulling away. "What - how did you know?"

I wondered briefly if Sally had told him. If that were the case, he'd surely have loads of questions.

"Tails told me," he said. "He must have heard it from Cosmo. I knew that she wasn't in school, but Shadow wasn't in either so …" he trailed off and raked a hand through his quills, looking mildly distraught. My heart twinged. I knew what he was thinking.

"Sonic - you couldn't have known."

"I know, I know, just - I feel like I should have been there, you know? Shit, poor Maria," he bit his lip. "How is she? You saw her, right?"

"She's … she's okay," I said. As far as I knew, Shadow and I were the only ones who knew what exactly was wrong with Maria. I didn't want to overstep. And I didn't want to give Sonic another reason to blame himself - I should have seen the signs, should have noticed her weight, how tired she was, noticed that she wasn't eating properly, made her get the help she needs sooner -

I was doing enough self-blame for the both of us.

"What about you though?" Sonic asked me seriously. "How are you?"

"Way to change the subject," I sniffed. "Yeah. It was just - it was scary."

"Yeah. I can't imagine - you guys are so close."

"It's not just that. I guess - I'm not at my best in hospitals."

"Oh?"

"Just um, some bad memories."

"Right." Sonic looked grim. "From … your stepfather - ?"

"Something like that," I said hastily. I wanted to talk to him about my mother, but I didn't know how. Too much had happened today. Too much had happened between us. I just focused on the fact that he was here. That we were talking. That he'd held me in his arms.

He drank the end of his Sprite but didn't make to leave.

"Did you - did you want anything else?" I asked. I immediately wanted to kick myself - it sounded like I wanted him to go. "Because um, you can visit Maria tomorrow if you want - she's conscious and everything - I just don't have a lot of information - "

"No, I mean …" he looked suddenly sheepish. "I texted Shadow earlier. So I know that she's - not fine exactly, but she's awake and she's talking about Giselle. But he said that you'd been to see her and I - I guess that I wanted to see how you were. I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"Oh …" I said lamely. I'd been taken by surprise. "You didn't have to - "

"I knew you were going to say that," he said. "I know that I don't have to. That's not why I - it's because you matter to me. A lot."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. Sonic looked down at the table and bit his lip, as if he were trying to muster the courage to say something;

"I know that I've said this before, but I'm sorry that I haven't been a better friend lately - "

"Oh no - I mean, you've been busy and everything," I stammered before adding unnecessarily. "With Sally, I mean."

Something flickered in his eyes. I swallowed and quickly continued. "And you have track meets and everything, it's cool, you're a busy guy."

"I shouldn't be too busy for you though, Ames."

"But why should I be such a priority?" I forced a nervous laugh. "It's not like I'm your - "

I cut myself off before I said girlfriend. What was I thinking? Fuck. I bit down hard on my tongue, almost drawing blood. I hoped that Sonic hadn't noticed, but his head shot up and his eyes met mine. I couldn't read his expression. I didn't want to. Did he know what I was going to say? My face was burning and I quickly grabbed a glass and filled it with water. I started drinking it before I even turned off the tap.

I didn't look at him until I set the glass back down on the counter. I tossed my head and tried to look nonchalant. He was still looking at me, that strange expression - the half smile, half frown back in place.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know that I've been acting weird lately, which isn't really fair - given everything you said at the dance."

"Don't remind me," I muttered. The memory of my emotional outburst brought a myriad of emotions. Embarrassment. Fear, as I remembered the realisation I'd nearly come to - tiptoeing along the edge of the fissure -

I remembered the song that was playing in Sally's car;

I hear my heart breaking tonight

Do you hear it too?

It's like a summer shower

With every drop of rain singing -

Sonic laughed, and then his expression suddenly changed again. "Listen," he said seriously. "I know I've been a dick lately. I don't - there's been a lot of stuff happening."

He paused for a brief second. He was clearly waiting for me to give some sort of response. Part of me - a huge part of me, wanted to ask him more. I looked into his eyes, wide green and silently pleading with me. He'd never bring himself to tell me directly what was bothering him. That was just who he was - he didn't want to compromise his role of 'the hero'.

A few months ago, I'd have been too nervous to pry. But what I suddenly realised - what I had been realising, albeit slowly, for weeks - was that sometimes people wanted you to pry. They wanted to let you know.

I really really wanted to know.

But I couldn't ask him. Because he had a girlfriend now. Because I couldn't accept what Sally had told me. Because I couldn't try to steal him away from her. He should be telling her this.

I said nothing. Sonic cleared his throat and continued to talk. "Anyway. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you, Amy. If you ever need to talk or anything. Or just hang out. I'll be right there, you know? Even - even if there are … other people that you can do that with now, you know? Or want to do that with. That's cool. I just, uh, yeah." he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and my heart ached looking at him.

"Thank you, Sonic."

"I mean like I said, there's uh - there's probably other people that you'd rather talk to, but - "

"There isn't."

He looked at me. My mouth felt dry all over again. "There's - I don't want to talk to anybody else. You're … the only person that I want to talk to."

It was the closest thing that I could say to the truth. Given Sally. Given Elias. Given everything that had happened today, over the last few weeks. After a brief pause he nodded slowly, as if he understood - but how how could be possibly understand?

"Okay," he said. Some of the old lightness had returned to his expression. That smile I knew so well. My heart ached looking at him. "So - do you want to talk?"

I hesitated. On one hand yes - yes, of course I wanted to talk to him. About anything and everything under the sun. I wanted our inside jokes. I wanted to complain about our history assignments. I wanted to hear more goofy stories about middle school musicals. I wanted to listen to him talk about track, I wanted to show him my dress designs and feel like he was actually interested in what I was doing.

But the stuff that I really wanted to talk about? Elias and Megan's reunion. The tears in Sally's eyes …

I swallowed. "I should - I should probably get back to movie night, actually."

"Oh, right." Sonic flashed me an apologetic smile as he began getting to his feet. "Man I'm sorry, it was really rude of me to - "

"You weren't imposing," I interjected.

"I was actually going to say it was rude of me to come along because whatever movie you watch is going to pale in comparison to sitting in the kitchen with me - "

"Oh shut up," I said, grinning in spite of myself. I paused for a heartbeat. "You know - you can stay, if you want. My mom wouldn't mind. We ordered way too much food."

It was his turn to hesitate.

"Abigail's choosing the movie," I added. "With our combined powers of persuasion, I'm sure that we could convince her to pick Aladdin …"

His mouth stretched out into an adorable smile. "Well it's a good thing I showed up, or who knows how the vote might have gone."

"Right?" I tried to keep relatively cool, but inside I was practically jumping up and down with excitement. I thought briefly of Sally, but pushed her from my mind. This is just platonic. My family will be with us. Platonic platonic platonic.

"Alright you've convinced me," he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "But there'd better be more Sprite."

"Oh trust me," I smiled. "Your wish is my command."

Apologies for the late update. My laptop charger broke (ugh, Apple) and it took almost two weeks for a replacement to come which meant that I couldn't work on this.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. Let me know what you thought of the update! (I will likely edit this and add a more detailed author's note, but I am anxious to get this posted now!). The title of this chapter comes from the song on Folklore.