A bleary eyed Chris stumbled into the kitchen the next morning. He smiled at my family and I and stood at the table, unsure if he was allowed to sit.

"Good morning, Chris," my aunt greeted him quietly. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No, I was thinking I should walk home now," he said, looking out of place. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"Sit," I ordered softly and took a sip from my orange juice.

His eyes became gentle as he looked at me. Still watching me, he took a seat. I just smiled and shrugged.

"Chris, I think you gained weight overnight," Gordie observed helpfully.

"Gordie, I think you're an anorexic," Chris shot back, looking down at the skin-tight shirt of Gordie's that he was wearing.

With his mouth full, Vincent said, "Gordie's just petite, that's all."

After he had some food in his stomach, Chris peered up nervously at Aunt Francis. He cleared his throat and asked, "Can I phone my mom? I want to let her know I'm okay."

She nodded emotionlessly and gestured towards the telephone. "Go ahead."

Rising to his feet, he crossed the kitchen and picked up the receiver from its cradle, dialling his number with what seemed to me like great care. "Hi, Mama, it's Chris," he said quietly, glancing at us like he wished we'd all go away. "I'm at Gordie Lachance's."

A stab of jealousy hit me for a moment, even though I knew that his mother knew Gordie Lachance and not Toby Tweten, and she would know that Chris was safe if he said he was with Gordie Lachance, but not Toby Tweten. I couldn't help the emotion despite the fact that I was well aware of its irrelevance.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Chris said. "Are you?" He paused, listening and nodding. "Yeah, I had something to eat."

"SOMEthing," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Chris Chambers could eat. He had a tendency to eat like there was no tomorrow. He ate liked a vacuum.

Chris shot me a playful look, and then said into the phone, "When do you want me home?" He listened. "But how do you know when Dad won't be home anymore? Okay. All right. Mom, I know he's mad at me, okay? All right. Just telephone the Lachance's when he leaves." He hung up the phone and announced to no one in particular, "My mother said that it wouldn't be very smart to go home as long as my dad's there, so I have to wait."

Gordie grinned. "We can be roomies, Chris!"

The way Chris clapped his hands mockingly for Gordie made me laugh. But the truth was, the haunted, hollowed look on his face worried me immensely.

"Gordon," Uncle John said gruffly, coming into the kitchen. "I want you to take out these garbage right now."

I also didn't like the way Chris recoiled when he saw my uncle. I guess Chris knew how much Uncle John despised him.

I raised my eyebrows and grabbed Chris' hand, pulling him away from the kitchen area. "Quick! Before we have to do work!"

We took refuge from chores in my room. "Hey," I said, surveying the room with my eyes. "You made the bed. Good job. Now my aunt won't be all over my ass do it."

He laughed. "I had no idea as to where the fuck I was this morning when I woke up. But the pillow smelled like you, so I'm thinking, Toby should be here, but you weren't so then I thought, where the fuck is Toby? Where did you go last night? I don't remember very much. I was a mess."

"Don't you remember?" I demanded, shocked. "You were chased by a large squirrel into my room, and when you fell back asleep in the comfort of my loving arms, the large squirrel came back, and I saved myself and left you for the squirrel to eat."

Chris just grinned. "Golly, you're the best girlfriend ever, and I say that with the utmost sarcasm."

"Yeah, well, I'm cute anyway," I said apathetically. I flopped down on my bed and then giggled as he dove on to it next to me. "I thought it was very cute the way you said mama."

"Oh, shut up," he laughed. "Where did you end up sleeping?"

"None of your business," I teased. I had slept on the couch. I had felt wrong about crawling into bed with him when he was the way he was, but I didn't plan on telling him that. I didn't want him to think I was a prude or frigid or something.

"Did you decide on something for your mom's birthday?" I asked conversationally.

"Actually!" Chris grinned wildly and pulled open my bedside table drawer, then retrieved a small book with scribbles all over it. "I found something in here I want."

"You fucking retard," I cried.

My outburst brought great amusement to him. "Thanks for noticing."

"That's mine!" I squealed and reached for it. "Gimme!"

He just laughed. "No, I want something from it!"

"Those are my private thoughts, you asshole!" His arms were quite a bit larger than mine were and he managed to keep it out of my grasp. I gave up and settled on just glaring at him crossly.

"There's a poem in here," he murmured, flipping through the dog-eared pages, and then found what he was looking for. "Did you write this?"

I glanced at the page and immediately recognized the words written by my haphazard penmanship. That poem he was showing me was the one poem I didn't want him to see. "Why?" I grumbled, mad that he had read it. "You know, I never gave you permission to look through my journal."

"You told me to entertain myself with whatever I found in here last night," he reminded me stubbornly. "I like this. Did you write it?"

"Maybe. Why?"

"Who is it about?"

"Santa, you shit hole."

He laughed. "It's really good, Toby."

"No, it's not."

"Can I give it to my mom for her birthday?"

"It's about you, dumbass." I blushed.

He ran his hands through my hair and kissed the top of my head, bringing my body closer to his so I could rest against him. "I know. But look at it, it could be about anyone. It could be about your mom or your grandfather or your brother or your sister or your mailman or anyone."

"The mailman?" I asked.

"I guess it would depend on how close you are to your mailman."

I smirked. "Yeah, whatever. You can keep it. Just tear it out."

"Here, just put your name at the bottom so she knows who it's by," he said.

"Uh-uh," I protested. "I'm not taking any credit for that piece of shit if she hates it."

He kissed my cheek and I felt him smile. "You fuckass."

His vocabulary made me laugh despite the fact that I was still embarrassed. "You have such a way with women, Chris. I just melt when you whisper sweet words like that in my ear."