He was scrawling on a yellow legal pad with a green pen. He had bought a huge box of Bic pens... black ones, but he'd lost every single one.

He'd had his internship for about five months now, and an editor who had taken pity on the scowling, black-haired boy had taken a look at some of the stuff Jess wrote in his spare time and left on the little office they'd given him. The editor had then gotten the idea to let Jess write a little column. Not anything that appeared every day, or even every week, but once in a blue moon when there wasn't enough to fill the Arts section of the New York Times, Jess got to write anything he wanted and put it in the paper.

He'd only been published about four times, but whenever he read a good book, he wrote a review on this legal pad. Then, if anyone ever asked him to write something by the end of the day, which they always did if they asked him to write at all, he would have something.

Suddenly, a buzzer sounded throughout the tiny apartment. Jess frowned and put down his pen. He hadn't ordered Chinese food, so it probably meant that yet another person had come looking for the person who lived in apartment 6. Jess lived in 16, but the one had fallen off the door.

Six is down- he started as he swung opened the door.

A screech and a flurry of blonde hair and black clothing surrounded him, and he hugged it back.

he said in greeting, granting the moment one of his rare smiles. He looked at her. She had cut her hair. It looked good on her. She was wearing tight black pants, a black sweater, black boots, and black sunglasses.

What are you wearing? he asked.

Don't I look so... New York? Jenna demanded.

No... you look like you're going to a casual funeral.

I don't know what you're talking about. So?



Aren't you going to invite me in to see your place?

No one's stopping you, he said, stepping slightly to the side and letting the door swing. Jenna reached for his face and pinched his cheek.

Good ol' Mr. Surly. You know, the sun started shining again after you left.

That's too bad.

Jess walked back over to his desk and sat down. Jenna, dragging her suitcase behind her, came into the main room and plopped herself down on Jess' unmade bed. This is an awesome place, Jenna said.

Eh... it keeps me dry.



So what?

Jenna reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope. She walked over to Jess desk and emptied its contents onto it. So, you definitely didn't tell me you were being published.

Where did you get those?

I clipped them out of the New York TIMES!

Jess just shook his head.

So I'm sitting in my room at college, and I'm really bored, so I start reading my roommate's Times. Then, lo and behold, in the Arts section, I see this little tiny article. And I'm about to turn the page, but then what do I see in the byline? That's right... your name! So I clip it and then naturally I look for one the next day... nothing. And the next day... nothing. You've made a newspaper reader of me!

Jess said in a monotone.

Wow... I've missed this surliness. It's no wonder I left the sun and happiness of Los Angeles to come see you...

I didn't put you on the plane.

Jess, stop that. Your enthieusiasm is embarassing me.

I'll be better.

There was a silence.





So... who's the girl?

No girl.



Jess shrugged.

Did you ever call her?



Do you actually want me to say her name?

I don't know what you're babbling about.



Jess shuddered. What about her?

Did you take my advice?

What advice?

Did you call her?



Ugh! Jess! Why not?

He shrugged again.

Well... no worries. We'll fix that up.

There's nothing to fix.

Jenna said warningly.

he looked up, exasperated.

Do you still love her?

He couldn't speak, and it was his absence of words that led Jenna to the conclusion she shared with him, smiling broadly.