Theresa rode with Arturo and her mother to the memorial service at the church. She was painfully aware that she was wearing the same black tank top she'd worn to the party at Trey's. It seemed like so long ago. But it was the only thing she had in black that was appropriate for the hot July weather, and with her dark gray skirt and black lace top over it, it was appropriate enough for a memorial service.

Arturo had been fairly quiet all week. Theresa had heard things, here and there. She'd heard him the night he brought Trey home from jail, screaming at him on the phone. She'd heard him yelling occasional curses in the direction of Trey's old house. And she'd heard Arturo taking some things out of his room one night, late after he thought that she and Eva were both asleep. He hadn't come back until almost morning, and had looked tired the next day. But her mother was always right, and there was no reason to ask too many questions.

She'd spent as much time as possible with Eddie. She sensed that in his grief he needed consoling, and she knew his mother wasn't there to do it. The woman was devastated, which annoyed Theresa a little bit because she knew that the man hadn't been all that nice to her when he was alive. In fact, from what she knew of Eddie's father through him and through the other guys, she wasn't entirely sure the tragedy was that great. But in the end, when it had counted, he had gotten mixed up in something that wasn't his fight.

It was her fight.

She tried to shake the feeling that it was her fault. That the whole thing was the result of her stupidity, her bad decisions. It turned out wasn't Mike being charged, after all, but a friend of his who wasn't even from Los Serranos. The story, as she'd eventually managed to wrangle out of Arturo, was that Mike's friend had a beef to pick with Trey, something "business" related, and Arturo, Eddie and Ryan happened to be there. Nobody would directly answer her questions about whether Mike and Ryan had confronted each other in the melee at all – she wasn't sure that anyone knew the answer to that question, even Ryan. But in the middle of the madness, a gun had come out, and Eddie's father, who had jumped in when he saw what was going on, happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It didn't matter. Even if it was some "business" that Trey had botched, the upshot of it all was that Theresa was dressed in black, sitting in the backseat, quietly looking back and forth between her silent mother and silent brother as they drove to remember Eddie's father.

The family was waiting outside in front of the church – the aunts and uncles, the cousins, Eddie's mother, someone she thought was a grandparent of his on one side. She leapt from the car and saw him light up gratefully as she approached across the parking lot. He kissed her lightly on her cheek, before pulling her closely to his side.

"Mama, this is Theresa. My girlfriend." She felt a certain strangeness at being called that here, something she had never been called before, in front of his family, in this setting. No kisses, no sexual affection. No, Theresa was here to comfort in front of the family, and that was a very different thing. Theresa the Catholic schoolgirl had to come out in full force now. She could pull that off. She could adjust.

She shot a parting glance at her mother and brother before walking into the church with Eddie, side by side, pressed against him. She stopped halfway up the aisle between the pews. He was clearly headed for the space reserved for family at the front.

"What?" he asked.

"I should go," she said nervously. "Uh, my mom-"

"Sit with me?" he asked, and he looked like such a hurt puppy dog that she had to smile tightly and nod, squeezing his hand again.

Sitting at the front through the service, it was hard to look and see if Ryan was there. She glimpsed Trey out of the corner of her eye, but he was alone. Alone with Becca. She glanced down at her lap, which Eddie's hand was parked solidly beside. One of his cousins was on her other side, one of the smaller ones, squirming and whining the whole time, and she felt like she was babysitting again.

When the long, torturous service was over, she stayed with Eddie for a couple of minutes, holding his arm and greeting his family somberly. As she turned to meet each of them in turn, she glanced over every shoulder, looking for something familiar.

She saw a flash of blond hair and let go of Eddie's arm. "Excuse me," she said. Eddie squeezed her hand and nodded before releasing her.

Theresa made her way through the crowd. "Mrs. Atwood?"

Dawn Atwood turned at the sound of her voice. "Oh. Theresa."

"Is Ryan here?"

Dawn's face turned sour. "You tell me."

"Isn't he coming?" she asked, confused.

"Like I would know?" she asked. "No. Ryan hasn't been home since the shooting. If you see him, tell him not to bother."

Theresa took a step back in shock. "That was three days ago."

Dawn softened a bit. "That long?"

Theresa shrank back another step. She didn't know what to say.

Dawn shook her head. "I didn't mean that, I-" She stopped and glanced across the room. Theresa saw A.J. Medena talking to one of Eddie's uncles. "Just tell him to come home, okay?" she whispered. She dipped her head down and hurried towards A.J. Theresa watched her go and then turned back to search for Eddie.

One of his aunts was all over him, fawning and cooing, so she felt safe darting across the sanctuary to where Trey was trying to make an exit without having to face his mother and her boyfriend. Not that she blamed him. "Trey! Hey Trey!" Becca was tagging along a couple of feet behind him.

He scowled at her as she approached. "Yeah. What the fuck do you want?" Becca stepped to the side, with an apologetic look at Theresa.

"Where's Ryan?"

Trey's face fell. "He ain't with you?"

"No. And your mom just told me he hasn't been home. So where the hell is he?"

"Eddie's dad just died and you're worried about where Ryan is?" Becca asked in amazement, stepping back in.

"Yeah." She gave her a tough look, daring her to make something of it. She hoped she looked tough. "I can worry about more than one thing at a time."

"Oh yeah. Oh, yeah, you're real good at that." Trey folded his arms and Becca reached for his elbow.

Theresa scowled. "Cut the bullshit, asshole, have you seen him?"

Trey's face tightened. "No," he said. "I haven't."

"Hasn't anybody seen him?" she insisted.

"Look," Trey said, leaning in. "Right now, he don't want to see you all that much." It was like ripping the scab off a freshly healed wound. Theresa couldn't help but wince. "Why you think he ain't at my place, bitch? He knows where you'll look for him."

"Seriously, where is he?" Becca asked. She looked back and forth between them, dropping Trey's arm. Her voice lowered. "You don't think he's on the streets?"

"Wherever he is, he can take care of himself," Trey snapped. "Better than dealing with this bullshit."

Theresa stared at him. "Nice, Trey. Real nice."

She turned on her heel and stormed off towards Eddie. She tapped him on the shoulder. "C'mere," she whispered in his ear. He nodded to his aunt, excusing himself.

She pulled him over to the end of the pews, away from the crowds, near the stiff, serious portrait of his father framed in carefully manicured flowers. "Okay. I know you don't want to hear this right now..."

He sighed heavily. "So what's with Ryan?"

She tried not to be surprised. There was no reason to be. She was truly that predictable. Eddie just knew her. Theresa took a deep breath. "He's... not here. And he hasn't been home for three days, and Trey hasn't seen him, either."

Eddie licked his lips, glancing over at his family.

"So, I - I know you don't want to deal with this. I'll go look for him, I just want you to know-"

"What?" he asked. He took a step away from her. "What the hell are you talking about? Of course we're going to look for him."

"What?" She wasn't sure she was hearing him right.

He gestured around at the room. "None of this is gonna change, okay? It's done. But Ryan, out there, on his own..." He shuddered and shook his head. "Scares the shit out of me."

Her eyes widened just a bit.

"That kid don't know how to look out for himself. Some kids do. Ryan? He'll pretend he does, but naw. He don't."

"You don't have to-"

"Course I do. And nobody else is doin' it, so... C'mon. Let me find my mom and tell her we're out, and then we're gonna go look for him. You and me." He stared her down into silence. "Together."

Theresa couldn't help but yawn, tucking her head up against the window of Eddie's truck.

"It's late," he sighed, peering through the late night haze illuminated by his headlights.

"No," she said. She struggled to sit up. "No, you know, we haven't searched the mall yet. Maybe he went there. Near there. Somewhere."

"Look, you don't have to do this," he said.

"Eddie! Of course I-"

"I mean," he said patiently, "I'm not tired. I been up late all week, I slept in today. I'm good." He glanced at her. "I'll drop you at home."

She rubbed at her nose. "I don't know."

"If I don't find him tonight, we're gonna need you to be awake tomorrow to do the lookin' then," he said.

She tilted her body towards Eddie and gently touched his shoulder. He glanced down at it before glancing back to the road. "You don't have to do this."

"Cut it out, all right?" He swung the car onto her street. "Maybe he'll show up back at home. You never know. You should be there."

She sighed. "Ryan doesn't want to see me right now. Jesus, Eddie, he doesn't want to see either of us. What are we thinking?"

"We're thinkin' we're the ones who dicked him over," Eddie said seriously. "C'mon. He's not gonna come back for Arturo or Trey. We're the ones who gotta fix this."

"I wish I could fix all of it," she said, barely able to hear her own shaking voice in the quiet car. "I wish I could go back to the start and make none of it happen."

He looked at her abruptly. "None of it?" He stopped the car in front of her house.

"Some of it," she relented. She leaned over and let him kiss her, closing her eyes. He tasted like fast food and cigarette smoke.

She opened her eyes and pulled away. "Call me if you find him. Don't worry about waking my mom up, I'll take the phone in my room."

"Deal," he promised.

"Good night," she said, then paused. "Love you," she added, almost as an afterthought. He noticed.

"Love you, too," he said.

She hopped out of the car, biting her lip, and made her way to her door. Eddie waited until she was inside to drive off.

This week seemed like it would never end. One thing and then another. Growing up was so hard. Caring about people was so hard. She wished she never had to do it again.

Theresa made her way to her room without seeing her mother or brother, which was fine with her. She locked the door behind her. Her door did have a lock, she just never used it. She never had to. But right now, she didn't want to see or talk to anyone.

She took the black lace top off and draped it over the chair. The music box was still sitting on her nightstand, and she settled onto the bed, tucking her legs up underneath her, and opened it.

-Sweet dreams to carry you close to me-

The purple crystal and the pink lip gloss and the purple ring all sat there, staring back at her. The notes were winding down. She gently picked up the things she had put in there, one by one.

"Oh my god! Look at all the geodes!"

"Rebecca! If I hear your voice on this side of the store one more time, your name will be on the board as soon as we get back to school!"

Becca only laughed at the teacher. "Dumb bitch," she whispered to Theresa who smiled, happy to be included in such rebelliousness.

The gift shop of the geology museum was filled with fifth graders being monitored carefully by watchful chaperones and museum staff. Theresa only had a dollar-fifty to spend, and didn't think she could get more than an eraser with the geology museum logo, which didn't seem very exciting. She would rather buy a soda and a candy bar at the corner store than an eraser. She wasn't sure what to do.

"Ow! Cut it!" Everyone in the room turned around. One of the boys Theresa didn't know well, who was in Mr. Bailey's class this year, was being attacked by a kid she thought she had seen somewhere, if not fifth grade. The less familiar kid, a pint-sized angry-looking thing, was dangerously close to some sharp rocks on display, too, and Theresa almost felt her heart stop.

"No way!" the tiny kid yelled, knocking the other one over. His eyes were on fire, almost animal-like. Theresa and Becca leaned back against one of the rock displays while the chaperones swooped in to separate the boys, to the whispers of the rest of the fifth grade.

"Oh wow," Becca said, giggling to Theresa.

"That's my neighbor," Theresa said slowly as it dawned on her. "I know him. He just moved in last week."

"Oh, ew," Becca said. "Hey, look at the pretty rings! C'mere!"

Theresa followed, but she couldn't keep her eyes off the new kid as he sullenly was placed in the corner by Mr. Bailey, who was quietly lecturing him. She couldn't shake the feeling that he seemed oppressed somehow. Something unfair had just transpired in the gift shop at the geology museum with her new neighbor, and she had to know what it was.

Mr. Bailey moved away from the new kid, who apparently also wasn't going to be fully disciplined until their return to school. The kid pulled his oversized sweatshirt around himself and tried to pretend like he was more interested in the display of geology books than in the hundred or so fifth graders staring at him and the seriously wrong first impression he had just made.

"Look at the cute rock animals!" Becca squealed.

"Yeah – in a minute," Theresa said, distracted. She glanced around, looking for an excuse. "Um. I'll – be right back." She didn't have an excuse, really.

She walked over to the books. They looked pretty boring. She glanced at the kid's face. He was bored, too.

"What did he do to you?" she whispered.

The kid looked up. For the first time, she could see that his eyebrows were furrowed in anger, and his face was red, but he was genuinely puzzled by her question at the same time.

"He was tryin' to steal my dollar," the kid said.

Theresa glanced back at Mr. Bailey, who had joined the chaperones checking the other kid over for injuries. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he said. He shrugged. "He didn't, though." He looked a little calmer.

"Oh," she said. She didn't know what to say. She looked at the books. "So what are you gonna get with it? The dollar."

"Nothing," he said. "There's nothing good for a dollar, anyway."

He moved as if to get away from her, but she followed. They were standing in front of the rock samples now, and she dipped her hand in the box full of tumbled agate. "I love rocks," she said. "These are pretty."

He looked at her sideways. "I guess."

She pulled her hand out of the smooth, cold agate. "You do know I live next door, right?"

"You do?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah. I saw you out riding your bike on the street. In circles. The other day. My name is Theresa."

The kid shrugged again. He looked almost lost in his oversized sweatshirt. "I'm Ryan."

"Hi Ryan," she said. "I have a dollar-fifty. I can't get anything either." He was cute, she noticed. She glanced at the rocks on the shelf. "We could get a crystal for two-fifty, you know. The crystals are cool."

"But then who gets to take it home?" he asked, sincerely concerned.

"We can share it," she said. "Kind of like joint custody. You know. Like divorced parents."

Ryan nodded, considering this. "Okay. You take it home first. You have more money."

She giggled at that as she picked the rock up off the shelf and the boy in the oversized sweatshirt smiled shyly at her. He was so much nicer than he'd looked a few minutes ago. And so much nicer than Rebecca. And he was cute. Like the boys in the pin-ups in her bedroom. She liked him already.

"You woulda won that fight with Jamie, right?" Theresa asked. "If they hadn't stopped you."

"I'm good at fighting," he said, puffing his chest out. "My brother taught me."

"Jamie's like twice your size."

"Doesn't matter," Ryan said. Then he looked doubtful.

"Well," Theresa said, fingering the stone in her hand, "this rock is sharp. If he tries to kick your ass again? Just stab his ass right back."

For the first time, Ryan looked relaxed as he studied the crystal in her hand. "That's a good idea," he mused. So he was funny, too. More and more she was feeling something strange about this kid. No, not strange. Good strange. Interesting. Appealing.

"C'mon," she said. "Let's go buy it." She started for the cash register, then stopped. Was he still behind her? It felt like he wasn't. She turned around. He was.

When he saw her looking for him, he finally started to follow, and together, they walked to the cashier to buy the crystal with the two-fifty that they had pooled.

She closed the rock in her fist.

-I wish they may, and I wish they might-

After all these years, the cool crystal still fit perfectly. Ryan had never taken it with him. It had never left her house. He didn't even remember it. He had never asked. Ever. Her thumb rubbed the flat edge of the crystal. It still belonged to him. He had to come back for it.

She set it beside the purple ring and picked up the lip gloss. She unscrewed the cap and held it to her nose to sniff.

The night air was humid and sticky, and Theresa pulled at her shirt to fan herself, to keep the sweat from starting. She didn't want to sweat, not next to Ryan, not now.

"What's that smell?"

"What does it smell like?"

"Candy? Bubble gum?"

She relaxed. "Raspberry?"

"Maybe. Yeah."

Theresa giggled and flipped a stray braid over her shoulder. "It's my lip gloss."

He stared at her. "You're wearing lip gloss?"

Now she was offended. She dropped her jaw in mock frustration. "We're at a dance, Ryan."

"Yeah, but your mom let you wear lip gloss?"

"No. Becca gave it to me." She paused. "She gave me a whole thing of it. Said I could keep it, actually."

Ryan laughed. "Well, it smells good."

She felt an odd feeling on the back of her neck. He was looking at her lip gloss now. Looking at it a lot. "Thanks," she said.

He looked up at her eyes, and in a moment, it was like all the electricity in the alley behind the school gym changed, and they weren't seventh graders playing at school at night anymore, but adults. Grown-ups. Thinking grown-up things, feeling grown-up things.

"Can I...?" He couldn't even say it.

She didn't want him to say it. She leaned forward, closing her eyes, to let him taste it. And he did. It was a quick kiss, her first kiss, sharp and to the point. He sat back up and she opened her eyes.

"It tastes good," he decided.

She looked away for a moment, not sure what to say. Then she turned back to him.

"Want to taste it again?"

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned back on his hands. "I like raspberries," he admitted.

"Okay," was all she could think of to say, and it was a stupid thing to say, but it worked, because now he was tasting her raspberries again, and now he was touching her in a way he had never touched her before, and it would always seem to her years later that in that moment she stopped being a child. She would always believe, though she could never bring herself to admit it to anyone, that she started to grow up the second Ryan Atwood started to kiss her.

He needed her to kiss him, needed her to like him. It was more than the flavor of raspberries. He didn't just want the sweet taste. He needed it. He needed something sweet, something fun, something to distract him, and she wanted to be that thing. She didn't know if he had ever kissed a girl like this before, but she liked it, and she wanted more.

She never wore the raspberry lip gloss again after that night. She could never bring herself to, because raspberry lip gloss was for that night, and that dance, and that kiss only.

She bought strawberry instead.

And Ryan liked that, too.

Ryan was missing.

Ryan hadn't come back to her.

Ryan didn't think she was here to come back to.

-As long as my heart doesn't know who you are-

For the first time in three and a half years, Theresa twisted the lip gloss open and rubbed her finger in the sweet-smelling grease. She brushed it onto her lips and tasted it. It hadn't quite spoiled, though it did taste funny – maybe her taste buds were maturing. She smacked her lips together and wiped her hand off on her gray skirt.

She studied her reflection. She could see a gray hair on her hairline, but couldn't bring herself to pluck it. It wasn't going anywhere. It would only come back.

It had been a long time since her first kiss.

And then she saw him in the mirror, the faintest outline of a person in the window, reflecting at her from behind. He looked like a ghost, appearing where he shouldn't. She whirled around before he could disappear.

"Ryan!"

He looked like he was going to run, but she crossed the room as quickly as she could and threw open the window.

He froze in the light from her room, outside in the night air, trapped like a deer in the headlights. She leaned forward on the windowsill.

"Hold it." He listened. He stopped.

She wasn't going to let him get away again.

Not this time.