I was not accustomed to these feelings. Never before had I thought about one person so much it made me sick—never once had my every thought been occupied by that one smile...I never expected this to happen. Not in a million years...falling in love with your best friend was just not right, it was wrong, stupid, foolish, insane.

But I couldn't help it. The more and more I thought about Chris, the more and more I realized just how much I did love him...and that burning passion was nothing close to platonic. The worst part of it was that we weren't talking—or more like I wasn't talking to him. It had been a week since our fight in his truck, and I was still hurting. I couldn't help it—the words he had said to me, how nothing he had made me feel. That was just it—he made me feel like nothing. And that has to be the worst feeling.

I was lost. I was gone, forever, lost...would I ever come back? No, I wouldn't. I would forever love him, that stupid boy. How different he made me feel—I suddenly became aware of my posture, of the way my hair would go crazy with curls, my makeup-less face, my dirty jeans, my faded T-shirts, falling apart sneakers. When he looked at me, I wanted him to see someone different. I wanted him to see a silky-haired, sweet smelling, glossy girl. But as much as I wanted to change...I couldn't. Chris was my best friend even when I was at my worst—and no matter what I would always be that wacky girl in hand-me-down converse.

But I was lost. Lost, simple as that. I missed looking into his eyes, I missed hearing his voice. And it had only been a week! I would watch him walk down the hallways, hand in hand with Amanda. And I wanted to puke—I wanted to scream, I wanted to run up to him and just cry out how much I loved him. My screams were in vain—I wasn't heard. When was I heard? And then I would cry—let the tears flow. Chris heard me—he listened to me. But now I was only screaming, screaming and never being heard...my tears froze before they fell, I was falling, falling deeper and deeper and soon I would hit rock bottom. And I didn't want that to happen.

* * *

"Lark—please, Lark!"

I fidgeted with my locker and tried to ignore his voice behind me. I knew I was being stupid, ridiculous. He wanted to talk to me! And why wouldn't I talk to him? Because I was immature and had to have the last word. Finally, when I felt him start to walk away and when he sighed—I couldn't put my barriers up anymore. I whirled around and just seeming him standing there, so close to me, I wanted to cry.

"Wait," I muttered, reaching at to his arm. My fingers tingled when my skin grazed his. He looked around and his eyes shown with exhausted happiness.

I looked down at my hands. What was I supposed to say? I felt like a huge ass. I had been so immature.

"Lark." Just having my name whispered from those precious lips made me want to melt up to the heavens. "We should...talk."

I slung my bag over my shoulder and glanced at the clock quickly, then nodded.

He pulled my hand until we entered an empty classroom. He shut the door tenderly and turned to me, his blue hues so sad and exhausted.

"You need to talk to me sooner or later."

I looked at him and I couldn't help myself—my eyes filled with tears. He looked alarmed at this—I never cried. Ever. But I couldn't help it...all the tension all week was building up and my barriers were breaking.

"Chris," I said, starting to shake. "I'm sorry—I'm so sorry! I've been such an idiot...I'm sorry...I—I lo—I'm sorry!"

Chris quickly grabbed my hands and pulled me into a hug. I melted at his touch and wanted to stay like that forever.

"Shhh," he whispered. "I'm sorry I was such a jerk. You deserve to be treated so much more than that. Lark, I'm so sorry if I ever made you feel less...you are the most important person in my life."

I sniffled and looked up at him, tears falling freely down my cheeks. I didn't even bother wiping them away. "R-really? More—more than Amanda?" I know, how inconsiderate, but I couldn't help myself. I blurted it out before I thought about it.

Chris looked at me like I was crazy. He held me back by the shoulders and quirked an eyebrow. "How can you even compare yourself to my girlfriends? Lark, you're my best friend! You'll always be my best friend." He smiled and kissed me on the forehead. "Come on, let's get back to class."

I nodded and grinned despite myself. It felt so much better to be talking to Chris again. As the bell rang and the halls filed with students, he looked at me one last time. "You're my best friend—don't forget that. We'll always be friends."

Now how come I didn't like the sound of that?

He grinned at me then went off to find Amanda. I was left there alone in the hallway with tons of people filing around me...and once again I was alone. Alone, and wishing I was the girl that held his hand.

~*~*~

"Gooooooooooooooorrrrrdiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

"Shh."

"Gorrrrrrrrdooooooooooooooo."

"Shh!"

"Gordon."

"Shut the hell up!"

I giggled as Gordie glared at me while scribbling away on some essay or another. It was funny how he always seemed to be writing—that damn pencil never left his scrawny hands. He sighed and rubbed his temples with his hands, setting down the writing utensil reluctantly and running his hand through his hair, which made it stand up though not nearly as crazy as Chris'.

We were sitting at a corner of the library, just doing homework. Pretty boring, actually. But when it was with Gordie, it couldn't be nearly as boring as usual—you always found some way to smile. That was one of the amazing things about him.

"So...where's Mary Louise anyway?" I asked, abandoning my poorly written English homework, and leaning back in the comfy chair. I always liked the library—it was very relaxing, soothing. Something about it—maybe the dusty smell of books, or maybe the quiet murmur. Whatever it was, it was my weakness and I loved it.

Gordie shrugged distractedly. "I dunno. That girl never stays put."

I arched an eyebrow. "Well, you are supposed to know. You are her boyfriend."

Gordie snorted. "I don't know what I am to her anymore."

I shrugged. "Ah well, you'll—erm—work it out."

I wasn't very good with giving out love advice to people—I myself never having a relationship in my life. How would I know anything? I knew nothing, nada, zip. And it hurt...bad.

Gordie looked at me skeptically and shook his head. "Please. I'm not taking advice from you. You can't even match your outfits and you're sixteen!"

I feigned hurt and swatted him gently. "I do too much!"

"Right," Gordie said, briefly looking me up and down. "Black and green stripes really go with blue jeans."

I laughed. "You're so stupid Gordie. They do go together. But—alas—all guys are colorblind."

He laughed and I noticed that the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. I giggled at this and he smirked. I really did love Gordie—he was like my brother. When I was around him—I didn't care about anything. I was just me—I didn't wish I was someone else. I wish I could have felt that way around Chris.

"So," Gordie began, putting away his paper. "What's up with you and Chris?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "How's that?"

"Well—I mean—I haven't seen you guys talking lately. Something wrong?"

I shrugged. "We're okay I guess. I was really mad at him though. He can be such a dick sometimes!"

Gordie smirked. "Yeah, he can be."

"I mean," I went on. "Some of the things he dares to say to me! I mean, I am still a girl you know! No matter how lazy I may be—I'm still a female and I still have feelings! And he—dammit he just doesn't respect that."

Gordie shrugged. "He cares about you, you know that."

I looked away. "I know he 'cares' about me. I—I just wish...he...you...know...could 'care' a little deeper." I blushed and looked away. I was definitely not used to this, with Gordie no less.

He nodded, understanding. "Ahhh. I see. Well—maybe if you brushed your hair once in a while..."

I kicked him hard under the table. "That's not funny." He laughed.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Gordie said. "Listen, if Chris can't see how beautiful of a person you are, it's his loss and he is a dick."

I grinned at Gordie somewhat bashfully. "Thanks Gordo."

He shrugged and looked at the clock. "Now come on, I'm starving my ass off and you're annoying me with all this lovey stuff."

~*~*~

I waited patiently on the front steps after school. I was just sitting there—not really waiting for anything. I had already missed my bus and I figured that Chris had already left. I was hoping I was going to get lucky—maybe my mother would realize that I was not at home and she would come and get me.

"Lark?"

I turned around and was surprised to find Chris walking towards me, bag slung over his left shoulder. I grinned. "Hullo."

"What are you still doing here?"

I sighed and looked up into the sky. Chris sat down next to me and my stomach fluttered with butterflies. "I missed my bus."

He laughed. "Again?"

I nodded. "Again." I looked over at him and I grinned. As shallow as Chris may be—he was still my best friend. And he probably always would be. It was one of those things you couldn't help—we had experienced so many things together already that nothing could tear us apart. We may drift apart at times...but we would always have that connection. That fucking special connection that made us best friends...emphasis on friends. It was a fucking blessing and a curse.

"Would you like a ride Lark?" He asked, smirking. I looked over at him.

"It's a nice day out, Chris. Look at the clouds. That one looks like ice- cream."

Chris looked up into the sky and squinted his eyes. "It does."

"And that one—over there—that looks like two people holding hands. They're walking around, and they love each other. That one is the guy. See—he's protecting his love..."

Chris looked over at me and put a hand gently to my head. "Are you feeling okay?"

I snatched his hand away and he snickered. "Shut up. Can't I just pretend for once?"

"Pretend what?"

"That I'm that cloud."

"Which one?"

"The one holding his hand." Chris sighed and looked at me, sadly almost. His breath was low and rapturous and his voice was somewhat scratchy. I found myself slowly falling more and more in love with him. But he would never know it. He would never care. I was falling again, falling faster into the darkness.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

He tugged my hand and put an arm around my shoulder—most platonically.