I Need You So Much Closer

Chapter 11: Toronto is for Lovers

Disclaimer: "Ohio is for Lovers" is belonged to Hawthorne Heights, who is a great screamo band and if you like that kind of thing, you should check them out. Degrassi isn't mine, even though I've decided that I should be on the writing team since they steal all my ideas anyway.

I push open her door without knocking out of habit. I almost forgot I had to knock, that I'm a guest in her house. It's an uncanny feeling as I stand in her doorway, being so out of place that I can't stand it. So, to atone for my wrongful assumptions, I make the effort to knock.

She looks up from her hands cradled together in her lap. She manages a weak smile and goes back to staring. I meander into her room and sit next to her open suitcase on the bed. I run my hands over the front of her favorite blue T-shirt that she'd already placed on the bottom of her bag. "So you're doing it?"

"I've been gone for a lot longer than this." I sit still after her words settle over the room. It isn't her words that plague me; it's her tone. Her voice sounds like it's coming from the rafters of a church, so distant and above all of her surroundings.

"Are you..." my voice sounds shaky as it comes out of my mouth so I shift my body and try again. "What are you going to do there?"

She makes some attempt at movement as she slowly positions herself towards me more. "I don't know, Sean. Cause some scenes. Start some riots. You know how I do."

"Are you going to contact Craig?"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. I'm not going down there for him. I'm going because it's the greatest city in the world. I'm going because that's where I want to be. I'll find a life there if it kills me."

"It may do that then. It is New York. It takes no prisoners."

Ash looks up at me and laughs. I haven't heard her laugh in ages. I can't believe how much I miss it. I can tell by her face that she misses it, too. "But Lennie Briscoe will be there to find my murderer."

I laugh at the memories, too. Two teenagers too tired to do anything but cuddle and watch Law Order on Saturday nights. Way back in that fairy tale when I was in love and all of our plans seemed set. "He's dead now," I say sympathetically. "Not Lennie. Lennie'll never die. But Jerry's dead."

"I remember reading that somewhere. It's sad. Maybe I'll see them film something on location when I'm down there."

"Aha," I say with the cocky attitude that I haven't put on in three years, "so I've found your motive for choosing New York. You just want to stalk Law Order."

She nods and puts up her arms in mock surrender. "That's it. You're right again."

"So I came to help." She looks at me with befuddlement plastered across her face. "I'm not helping," I further explain.

She sighs. "You want to carry something, I assume? Use your big huge man muscles and help out in that way? Well, I've got news for you. The movers are doing that for me." She jumps off her bed with a new found enthusiasm.

"Oh, oh no..." I say as she grabs something off her dresser.

She spins around. "You have a choice. You can clean," she holds up a spray bottle threateningly so I take a step back, "or you can start to pack up my bathroom."

She steps closer to the door that opens into her bathroom and pushes it slightly open with her foot. I peer inside and after a quick glance, I hurry back into the safety of her room. "No friggin' way," I say to the bathroom offer.

She hands me a spray bottle. She disappears into the bathroom with a smirk and reappears a few seconds later with a wash rag dangling from her hand. "Hurry hurry," she says thrusting the rag into my chest. She walks back into the bathroom but looks over her shoulder and keeps her gaze locked on me. "Sean Hope Cameron, that dust will not clean itself."

I laugh and throw the rag at her. She yelps and ducks into the bathroom. She's just lucky I never follow a girl into the bathroom. Ever.

"Hey there.
I know it's hard to feel like I don't care at all.
Where you are and how you feel."

"Manny wanted to know if you needed help packing. She said we could come over if you did. We're not doing anything better, and we'd both like to see you before you left." I hold the phone up with my shoulder as I grab some oreos from the pantry.

"Spin, that'd be great. Maybe you guys could just come over and hang out. I'm pretty much done packing for the most part, and I got Sean to clean earlier. It'll actually be perfect; my dad's going to be out all night."

"Am I hearing party?" I ask, my mouth full of cookie.

"You are hearing small get together. I'll order some pizza. Can Manny and yourself bring over some DVDs? Most of mine are packed, and my dad's," I can hear as she goes through them in the background, "are mostly 70's musicals."

"We'll definitely be supplying the movies," I say.

"Good deal. I'll see you around 8, then?"

"Sure. Want us to invite anyone else? Is there anyone you're not speaking to?"

She laughs curtly. "I don't know, Spinner. Use your best judgement. I'd strongly advise against bringing JT and any of his, um, closer female counterparts. I don't care or anything, I just don't want to have to see him before I leave. He's kind of the reason I am leaving. If I have a reason. Never mind, it's not him. I'm rambling."

I jump onto the counter and let my legs dangle off the side. "No worries. Hopefully you'll be able to figure everything out when you're down there."

"Wow, Spinner, I can't believe myself. Gosh, going on and on about all of this. I will see you at eight, and I will try my hardest not to chew your ear off then."

"Ash, do not worry about it. I'm going to go call Manny. I'll see you tonight."

"OK. Bye Spin." As soon as I hang up the phone, I regret it. What is it that I learned in psych class this year? The first step of grief is denial. I don't think I can help her much. I mean, I didn't really pay attention in psych even when I was in class. But I could talk to her. Maybe I'll get a chance to tonight. I punch Manny's number into the phone still in my hand and push it against my ear.

"Hey baby," she answers. "What's up?"

"I just got off the phone with Ashley."

"Oh good. Did you set something up? Emma's really worried that Ashley hates her."

"Emma's coming?" God, no, stop it. Stop it now.

"Emma was planning on coming, yes. Why?"

"Emma's not coming."

"What?"

"Emma's with JT."

She sighs audibly. "I'm glad you're keeping up on Degrassi gossip, Spin, but Emma isn't 'with' JT. They're friends. I mean, she wants to be something more and so does he, but he gave her some crap story about not wanting to ruin a relationship before it begins. So they're not together, yet."

My head hurts. "It sounds like they're together. Ash said she didn't want JT to come or any of the new girls in his life, and I'm almost positive she meant Emma. They did go to the funeral together."

"That doesn't mean anything. Sean didn't even bring Dylan."

I laugh. "That would've gone over well."

Manny rolls her lips in frustration. "Well, what am I supposed to say? I promised her that if we didn't go to Ashley's, that we'd hang out."

"Convince her to spend the evening with JT. Please? Do something."

"Alright, but I hate lying to her. I love you."

"I love you more. Are you looking at the ring?"

"Of course. I told my mom last night. She set up a dinner with you and your family for Sunday. She wants to schedule an engagement party. Is that okay?"

"Sounds like a date." I grab the message pad and scrawl 'Sunday night- dinner at the Santos' across it. "What time?"

"Around 6. I'll call you as soon as I'm done with Emma."

"Alright. I promised Ash 8, and we have to stop at the video store to pick up something to watch."

"That's fine. I love you, muffin."

"No muffin."

She laughs. "Alright, honeybee."

"Honeybee kills me. I'm dead."

"Good. I'll call you in a bit."

I don't find anything else particularly urgent to say, so I let the line go dead.

"With these lights off as these wheels,
keep rolling on and on.
(And on and on and on)"

"I did something bad." I fall back onto my couch, thankful for the comfort it brings to my muscles.

"Manny?"

Her tone changes after she takes a deep breath. "Hi Ash. I did a bad thing."

"Bad as in..."

She mumbles for a few seconds trying to find the footing to start to say whatever it is she wants to say. "I didn't mean to. I was just talking and lying and lying and talking and Emma was like 'I know when you're lying.' And I cracked and told her you wanted her there and then she started talking about JT. And so I kind of, maybe, inadvertently invited him, too. But don't worry. I'll call and say 'Ashley? Ashley's gone.' And I'll have them to my house and Spinner can go to your's and it'll work and I'll come by tomorrow to say goodbye. I'm so sorry."

"Manny?"

"Yes?" She answers. This girl has seriously got to be high.

"Calm down. No way I'm letting JT ruin another night of my fun, especially my last one here. You're coming, and if that means JT and Emma are coming, that's what it means. We have enough pizza to feed a small country."

"No, Ash, you'll be upset. I'm so dumb. I can't believe I did this."

"I'll call them myself, then."

"Oh my gosh, no!" She starts freaking out, and I just lean back on the couch and giggle silently. "No, I will call them now. I guarantee you they will be there tonight. If this is reverse psychology, it is working so well."

I just laugh. I don't feel like arguing over who's smarter with Manny Santos. "So, do you think it would be a bad idea if I invited Sean and Paige and Jay? Would I just be setting it up for drama?"

Manny thinks it over for a second. "Okay, this may be a really bad idea, but why don't you just invite a lot of people? I know you don't want to, but think of it this way. If there's enough people there, if you don't want to talk to someone, you won't have to. But at the same time, everyone you do want to talk to is there."

Absolutely not. People? Here? A lot of them? Okay, okay, I need to loosen up before I go to New York. It's the reason I am going to New York. Because I'm so carefree and spontaneous. "Great idea. Call everyone you know. There will be no bouncers tonight."

"Really?" She sounds surprised. Why does she sound so surprised? This is me, Ashley Kerwin, here. Everything I do, I do on a whim. I'm so freaking crazy!

"Of course really. You don't think I can put a party together in an hour, do you? Watch me."

My tone scares even me. I didn't want to be mean with Manny. I was just joking. But it didn't sound like a joke, did it? Should I apologize? The air is dead. Say something. Oh, God. "Right. Well, we'll be there at eight."

"I'll leave a bedroom open for you if you're not." I hang up quickly and erupt onto my couch in giggles. I can't believe I just said that to her. I'm so bad. I calm myself down to a dull roar and hold the phone out in front of me. In a little over an hour, I will have a party ready. And a damn good one.

An hour and forty five minutes later, I look over my party from my spot on the kitchen counter with pride. A sort of messed up, drunken pride, but pride nonetheless. Everyone that I love and almost everyone that I hate is having a great, uninhibited time. "Great party, Ash," I hear someone say very close behind me.

I jump a little and turn my head around. I'm so in shock that I'm surprised I don't jump a little more. "Thanks," I manage weakly.

He takes a step closer to me. I can smell his cologne, and it automatically brings tears to my eyes. I laugh them off and turn my head away. "Do you want to tell me why you're really leaving?" His voice pierces my drunken haze and causes me pain. The real kind of pain that's supposed to be nonexistent when you're this plastered. I want to crawl under my bed and never come out. Or go to New York to avoid ever hearing his voice again.

But all I do is smile. "Thanks for coming." My voice is like a weak animal's. If he wants, he'll prey on me and I'll be his victim. Just because he can. Because this is me, broken, and he's managed more strength than he's ever seen before.

"Are you mad at me or something?" He touches my arm lightly, and I can suddenly see through his act. It all comes back to me in that simple contact.

I didn't kill Toby. I wouldn't have even been out in the middle of nowhere if it wasn't for JT breaking my heart. JT being a fucking jerk off and not even listening when I poured every ounce of my heart out to him. JT not listening when I said I loved him. How could he do that? He needs to pay for what he did. He killed my brother. "And why shouldn't I be? You broke my heart. You deserted me when I needed you most. And now, you're fucking my ex-best friend. But you know what? I could forgive all of that instantly. We all make mistakes. But none of my mistakes took Toby's life. Your's did. You killed my brother. Where the hell do you come off coming back into this house, this house that you ruined, and asking me if I'm mad at you."

He's uneasy. More than that, he's very uncomfortable. No one's listening to me yet, but we both know I could make them listen. I could cause a scene. "Ashley, please, I didn't kill Toby."

"Then why is he dead JT? He's dead because you held a grudge. You couldn't stand that he loved me more than you ever could be man enough to. I made a mistake. I apologized so much. I told you. I didn't have to, but I did. Because I really thought that you would be there for me. But you couldn't stand it that I was dirty and I was used. But you know what? If you would've been Toby, you know we would've weathered the storm. You killed him because you weren't able to stand him loving me. Isn't that right, you creep?"

"Ashley, don't tell me you-"

I cut him off. "What? Hooked up with my step-brother? You're damn right I did. And it was good. It was so much better than you."

His face drops and I can tell, by this point, the rest of the party has stopped and is paying attention only to us and our juvenile fight. "You pervert," he mutters as he steps away from me slowly. "You dirty, dirty, pervert. You got together with your own brother?" He gags a little for effect. Such a drama queen. "That's disgusting, and perverted, and wrong. Excuse me. I need to go throw up."

I laugh and look around to see if any of my friends are laughing. Wasn't that funny? No one else is laughing. They're all staring at me. Was it wrong, what we did? It couldn't have been wrong. But, according to the faces of everyone staring back at me, it wasn't right. It couldn't have been right.

"Slow things down or speed them up.
Not enough or way too much.
(And on and on and on)
How are you when Im gone?"

"Mr. Manning, you're looking well." I can tell she's lying. I haven't looked so run down in a long while. And coming from a pot addicted musician/photographer who's just been dumped and is broker than hell, that's saying something.

"Thanks."

"Want help?" She motions to my photographs.

"Love some, thanks."

She begins to pin up some of the photographs with clothes pins. "How's Kate?"

I laugh. I have to laugh. When all you do all day is cry, laughing's a great vacation. "She's... I have absolutely no fucking clue how she is."

"She's gone." It's a wonderfully cynical statement. I used to love Sam for her cynicism, but now I just want her to be compassionate.

"Very much gone. And I'm very much lost without her. Here, look at this picture. It's a dog. Do you see this? A fucking dog. I took a picture of a fucking dog. If that doesn't scream lack of inspiration, then I'm pretty sure the only that would is trees and a sunset."

She looks over my shoulder at the picture in question. "It's a pretty dog. Here, boy. Here, pretty doggie."

"Stop it."

"Well, Craig, if you really need inspiration that bad, why don't you come see me tonight?"

"Are you working tonight?"

"Well, I'm not very inspirational when I'm not working. You know the place?"

"Sammy, I can't. You know all that will happen is I'll fuck you then leave you and you'll be left crying for days because that's what always happens. I don't care about anyone. I don't care about hurting anyone."

"What about Kate?"

"That was a fluke. I'm serious. I won't give two shits about you in the morning."

"What are you saying, Mr. Manning? That you care more about your photographs than love?"

"My photographs are love."

"Come by anyways. One of the girls will take you home. How could she not? You're just so cute. Like a puppy." I miss home so much. I miss everyone who truly loved me. My photographs are love? I know what love is. It isn't some stripper who sells crack to get through art school. It isn't my photographs, either. Love is Toronto. Love is my family, my two dead children, Ashley. "Here boy," she says and kisses my neck right below my ear. I lean my head back and let her. If I'm not home, I guess this is the closest thing to love.

"And I can't make it on my own,
(And I can't make it on my own)
Because my heart is in Toronto."

She walks into the room and slams the door. I'm not even looking at her. If I was looking in her direction, I'm pretty sure all the tears in my eyes would make her blurry at best. Why am I crying over this? Why do I let her do this to me over and over?

"Don't do it," she warns.

"Do what?" I ask.

"Let her get to you. Cry over her. Forget about everyone else so you can go into a corner and mope about your poor life and poor fucking Ashley Kerwin and how she fucked you over this time. You don't think this effects anyone but yourself, do you? Well, it does. Here's your proof. I'm your proof."

"That's quite a speech."

She stops pacing and stares at me. She slowly lowers herself down next to me on the bed. "Why do I do this?"

"I don't know, Emma. Why do you do this?"

"Because I love you," she says suddenly, pulling my head upwards by my chin. "And I'm not going to let her ruin you like she does."

"She's your friend. How can you talk about her like that?"

"You're still sticking up for her, JT. After the hell she's put you through, you're still sticking up for her." She laughs humorlessly. "You went to a mental hospital because of her. She cheated on you with her own brother. She probably fucked him. She cheated on you how many times? And you're still defending her honor. Like she has any left to defend."

"Where were you, Emma? Getting knocked up by Craig Manning. Don't act all high and mighty. You're not better than her. You're no better than her!"

I can't believe my anger. My hostility just came to surface when really all I want to do is melt into her arms and cry. But Emma's not acting very comforting tonight, and I'm not going to put up with her insulting me or Ashley. She stands up slowly but doesn't move. "I can't be here anymore. I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" I scoff. "There was no relationship. I could never be with somebody like you. I told you that from the beginning." I hate myself right now. To come out of this with some form of dignity, I will lie about any and all feelings I had for Emma. Emma, of all people. The girl who just lost her fucking child, and I'm rubbing it in her face. God, I'm a horrible person. But I can't stop now. "Just because you were fucking delusional doesn't mean that I was in love with you. I don't owe you anything."

Her voice is shaky. "You're just drunk. You just went through that whole ordeal with Ashley, and you're drunk. You don't mean any of this." She's saying it more for her own benefit than mine, but her voice cracks and I can feel the questioning that she's doing to herself.

I see a single tear slide down her cheek. "Jesus, Emma, don't." I didn't mean to make her cry. I stand up. I'm going to wrap my arms around her and apologize. Ashley was wrong for me. She shouldn't be controlling this relationship, too. She doesn't have that authority.

"Is this what you wanted?" Emma screams taking a step back from me. "Did you want to break someone as much as you're fucking broken? Because it worked, yes, it worked. Look at me." I put my head down as she thrusts her arms open. "Look at what you've done. As if I wasn't fucked up enough already, you have me crying."

This time I push past her resistence and manage to wrap my arms around her. "Don't cry too much. I don't want you to run out of tears. I'm sure I'll be giving you a lot more grief in the near future, so you might want to save them."

She manages a slight laugh, and I don't mind her tears soaking into my shirt. She looks up into my eyes and I fully understand now what I do. Her eyes reflect all the sadness and misery that her short 18 years have had to endure, and I just add to it. I should leave. But as I hold her in my arms and promise her I'm never going anywhere, I know I can't just leave her. Never mind the everlasting emotional effect it would have on her, but what about me?

"So cut my wrists and black my eyes.
(Cut my wrists and black my eyes)
So I can fall asleep tonight or die,
Because you kill me."

I see him push his way past a few of the drunk grade 10's in front of us. Why did Ashley invite so many people? She must be off her meds or something. "Can I talk to Paige?" he asks to my human barrier, Jay Hogart.

"I don't think so," he answers calmly but sternly.

Sean rolls his eyes. "I just want to talk, dude. Five minutes."

"Fuck. Off."

Jay's bared teeth are inches away from Sean's nose. Why is Sean wanting to talk to me? All issues seemed rather resolved by Jay's fist and Sean's skull. Sean looks over Jay's shoulder and addresses me. "Paige?"

"Hi," I say shyly. This is awkward.

"Cameron, you're really starting to piss me off."

I touch Jay's arm. "It's okay, Jay. I can handle myself." I mean it, too. I'm not the dumb grade 9 who got raped in the dark bedroom of some random party. I'm a mature, confident woman. I think.

"Are you sure?" he whispers into my hair right above my ear. He brushes a few stray strands out of my face.

"I so love you," I blurt out. I immediately bring my hand to my mouth and cover it. The first time I said it was like this? But then I start to laugh. I laugh into my hand, and he laughs with me.

"I love you, too," he says sweetly. "You're crazy."

"I am crazy! But I guess it's a good thing, eh? Can I say it again?"

"Go for it."

"I love you."

I smile at him again before disappearing into the crowd with Sean. "I'm glad I caught you in a good mood," he yells over the music and conversations around us.

"Cool," I answer. "Where are we going?"

He leads me outside. I welcome the summer air blowing around me and kicking up some loose pieces of clothing. I sit on a nearby bench and Sean sits across from me. "So, did you see that JT/Ashley debacle?" he asks, making polite conversation.

I shake my head and bite my lip. "Can't say I did. We must not have been here yet. Was it brutal?"

"Ashley started rambling about how she hooked up with Toby, if that's what you mean by brutal."

I nod nonchalantly. I guess if you want to tell how mature I've become, you just look at this conversation. Sean's giving me some of the juiciest gossip Toronto's ever seen, and I really don't care. It's not that I don't care that Sean's the one telling me; it's that I don't care period. It's her life, and who am I to judge or even care about what she does?

"So," he says, taking a cue that I'm not in a gossipy mood, "how are you?"

"I'm sorry for being so blunt, but could you tell me why we're out here? If you didn't know, I told my boyfriend I loved him just a few minutes ago, and I'd like to go be in love with him."

"Just give me a second. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, about everything, and I just wanted to say that if I had it to do all over again, I would take back our relationship. I know it just caused us nothing but pain, and it was a double rebound in the worst way."

"That's all you think it was? A lot of pain?"

I stand up and walk quickly back into the party. He calls my name, but my retreating figure won't give him the satisfaction of chewing him out.

"Because you kill me,
You know you do, you kill me well.
You like it too, and I can tell.
You never stop until my final breath is gone."

"That was an, um, interesting revelation," I say as Ashley spills onto her front porch where I sat with my arm protectively around Manny's shoulders.

She manages a slight laugh. "No one got the joke."

"The joke?" Manny asks, nestling into the crook in my arm that seemed, from the start, made for her.

Ashley collapses into the swing and sighs. "You don't actually believe I hooked up with Toby? Manny, heavens to Betsy, he was my step brother. And he's dead. Don't talk about him like that."

She gives me an odd look. "Well, I didn't think I, per say, said anything about you two..."

Ashley drums her fingers on her leg. "No no, I'm just taking everything more serious than it is. You're right. You're very much right, actually. I shouldn't have said that to an audience I didn't want to hear it."

"So you and Toby..." I start.

"Didn't hook up. God, I really went off the deep end."

"If you don't mind me asking, why would you say that you hooked up with Toby if nothing happened?" I ask.

"I don't know. I was drunk. Why did I accuse JT of killing Toby? Because I'm a stupid, selfish little girl."

"That's not true," Manny says, but she doesn't try hard to be convincing.

We sit in silence as I stroke some of the loose ends of Manny's hair. I nod towards Ashley's car parked in the driveway. "Is your car all packed up?" I ask.

"What? My car? Oh no, I'm not taking it."

"Oh."

"New Yorkers don't drive cars! At least, I don't think they do."

"Did you ask Craig?" Manny asks.

I elbow her lightly in the ribs. When she turns around I mouth 'Manny!' but she just shrugs.

Ashley laughs at our interaction. "I don't talk to Craig really. At all."

"Oh, um, I thought you did."

Ashley kind of bites her lip and looks at me. Sensing everyone's awkwardness, I decide to take it upon myself to change the subject. "So, is your dad taking you to the airport tomorrow?"

"No. I won't be seeing him tonight or tomorrow at all. I'm actually taking a cab. My first true New York thing done in Toronto. Oh, the irony."

"Well, no, don't take a cab," Manny says.

Ashley laughs in a scoffing manner, about to say something about not having a choice, when I interrupt. "Yeah, don't take a cab. I'll drive you tomorrow."

Ashley's head cocks to the side. "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

She smiles at me and nods her head twice. "Thanks. That's great. Really, really cool of you, Spin."

"So are you down?" I ask, tapping Manny's elbow.

"Going shopping with my mom all day tomorrow."

"Can't you get out of it?" I whine.

"No," she says sharply. Then, she climbs on me a little more until her lips reach my ears. "Dress shopping," she whispers.

I look down into her eyes and give a heartfelt smile. I kiss her check numerous times repeating "I love you" with each interval. I look up smiling at Ashley, because that's what I do. I look to other people to share my own joy. But Ashley's not looking back, she's looking at the door. The porch light illuminates her face in such a way that I can see a single tear making its way down her cheek. "Ash?" I say in a voice like a whisper.

Her head snaps towards me quickly. "Yea?" she asks wiping the tear from her cheek and managing a slight smile.

"What's wrong, honey?" Manny asks.

A new wave of fresh tears invades her eyes, and Manny looks up at me with guilt or sadness or both. "Keep it. Keep your love forever. It's real, and it's true, and it's pure. I had something once that was love, but I let it get away. And for once, I'm not talking about JT."

She stands up and goes back into the party. I just look at Manny with my eyebrows raised. "Who was she talking about then?" I finally ask.

"Beats me," she answers before kissing me again. "But we should take her advice."

"Spare me just three last words,
I love you is all she heard.
I'll wait for you, but I can't wait forever."

"JT!" She says my name so loud and demanding that my head snaps up from the bottle of warm beer that I have been nursing all night because I'm scared. Her voice makes me turn into a frightened little boy. God, I love her.

"Hey there Em," I say, offering her the chair next to me.

She shakes her head no. "I think we should get going, actually. It's after two."

I check my watch, and it only works to confirm what the omnipotent Emma has already told me. "Yea, shit, I didn't realize. Okay, you driving?" She glances at my beer bottle. "I only had one."

"One's enough."

I toss her the keys. She stalks out of the party, and I follow at her heels. But she's stopped paying attention to me in general. We get into the car, and she lets me fiddle with the dial. Which is quite necessary, considering she'd have us drive in the most uncomfortable awkward silence. "Are you mad at me?" I finally get the courage to ask by the third traffic light.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow."

I shift slightly in my seat. "What are you mad about?" I ask with a twinge of blame.

"I don't think we should start a relationship. I think that's a bad idea, and maybe later, but definitely not now. I'm not mad. I just needed to tell you that."

Her words were an attack on my emotions, and she didn't stop. Each one was more brutally painful than the last. Her calm demeanor laughs at me, telling me that I never meant anything. Not for a single second. "Why?" I manage to finally choke out.

"To tell you the truth, JT, I don't even know you. I don't know that boy who was in there talking to Ashley. So I gave you time to cool off, think about things. And then I see you in the room, and you lash out at me? As if I did something wrong? I don't know you, and I can't do this, go into this, with someone I don't know."

"You're my oldest friend," I say, placing my hand on her elbow. "Em, I love you."

She jerks my arm away. "I'm driving," she says as she wipes a stray tear off of her face.

I turn and look out the window at the blackened scenery like shadows of the world. This whole night is a shadow of a dream, nothing real about it. I slide down in my seat, attempting drunkenly to melt into it. When did I get so drunk? I wasn't drunk when I left the party. That bitch made me drunk with her cynicism and her plaguing anger. I put my hand up to my forehead and attempt to massage my temples. She's not a bitch. I just love her, I guess. I always find the perfect ones to fall in love with, right?

She takes a deep breath as she pulls into my driveway. I can almost hear the tension she's placed on herself. "I'm not mad. And I'm not, I didn't want to do what I just did. I want us to be together again, because I can't see myself coming out of this whole mess that is my life with anyone but you. So, friends?" I nod slowly. I hold out my hand for her to shake, but she leans over and hugs me instead. "I'll come back in the morning. With your car."

"If you make it a little later, I'll buy you lunch for your troubles."

She smiles and nods. I hold my fist up to her face and punch her lightly, in a 'goodbye-chum' sort of way. She giggles as I make my way out of my car.

"Spare me just three last words.
I love you is all she heard.
I'll wait for you but I cant wait forever."

I roll my arm over to her side of the bed and try to grab a hold of her. It was an odd dream, the one I just had. I was in a room with some hooker, a seedy motel room with a few used syringes littering the floor. I could tell by this girl's reaction that she was getting impatient waiting for her money, and I was too fucked up to do anything. She paced around, threatening me with all kinds of obscenities, and I just laughed. When I thought she couldn't take it anymore and was about to get her pimp on my ass, Ash comes in and pays the girl. Then she comes and lays next to me. Like no big deal, I just appeared out of nowhere and paid your prostitute, now I love you again.

I run my hands over the sheets without opening my eyes, trying to confirm that she's really gone without looking. When I finally do get the energy to open my eyes, I see her standing a few feet away from the bed with her back turned, putting in earrings. "Sammy?" I call.

She turns around and smiles at me. She's still naked, not trying to hide from me, being totally open. I pull the sheets up to my chin. "I start at 9."

"You work tonight?" I ask in between yawns.

"I told you that." She turns back to her mirror.

"That's the last time I do anything like that."

"Anything like what?"

"Sleeping with you."

"Harsh," she answers quickly.

"I gave up lying. For lent."

"It's June and you're not Christian."

I lean back against the propped up pillows. "Yes, I am. I'm Roman Catholic. My mom-she was. And, I don't know, it's all I knew."

"Oh," she says while putting on a dark shade of lipstick. "You always gave me the Jewish vibe."

"I get that a lot. It's the hair."

"The hair, eh?" She turns around and starts to climb next to me on the bed.

I jump out of bed and stand next to it in all of my God-given glory. "I need to leave."

She crawls to the side of the bed nearest me. "Someone wants to stay." I look down. Shit. I pull on my boxers. She turns over on the bed and begins to scrape stuff out from underneath her fingernails. "You'll come back. They always do."

My hands are shaking so I shove them together and blow on them to keep them warm. "I need to get out of here," I repeat. "Who the hell am I? Who the hell comes into town and just fucks everything up as bad as I do? This isn't who I am. I feel like a character in a poorly written story who's just screaming to be made back into himself. I loved my girlfriend. I was going to marry her. And then I come down here, and I'm anti-commitment Craig, the stranger with your bed notch. I need to do something. I need to leave."

She bores holes into my head with her eyes. "You are seriously fucked up."

I put my pants on and grab my coat. "I'll take that as my cue to leave."

"And I can't make it on my own,
(And I can't make it on my own)
Because my heart is in Toronto."

I look over as Ashley dry swallows two more pills. "Didn't you take some before we left?" I ask.

She turns her head a few degrees and glares at me. "I'm hung over, and I'm about to get on a flight to a foreign country. Give me a break or two here, Spin."

I sigh and turn my attention back to the road. "Whatever."

She seems genuinely upset that I'm acting pissy. She shifts her body in the seat so that she's positioned a little closer to me. "Thanks for the ride and everything. I know it was your day off."

"No problem. Manny had a thing, and I'd just be playing some D rate video game right now. Greatest summer ever."

"Good. You deserve it. You're so grown up now. I love the new Spinner. He's so mature."

Me? Mature? "You must've missed the part when I told you that I would be playing video games." She laughs. Lame, Spin. Real lame. "So did you hear about JT and Emma?"

"No, what about JT and Emma?"

"Apparently, after your little confrontation, JT broke down and told her he loved her and all that jazz. And I guess they got together for, like, an hour before Emma sobered up and realized that he defended you like crazy, and apparently she thought he shouldn't have. So they broke up again."

"All in one night?" she asks. I nod. We sit in a silence that's only salvation is the thin rhythm of a once good but destroyed by overexposure song coming through the radio. "So," she says, breaking the comfortable silence.

"So," I answer, looking over into her eyes and smiling.

"What's going to go down in the T-O while I'm gone, do you think?"

"Well, gangsta byotch Ash, I think the T-O will be, pretty much, dead as always."

"Do you think you'll be staying with Manny once school starts up? Big school, lots of girls, even if you don't mean to, you might make a mistake."

"Well, actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"You want to break up, Spin?" Why would she say that? Why would she think that? Why does she say that with such an air of righteousness?

"No, nothing like that. Actually, kind of the opposite. I asked her to marry me. And she said yes."

I keep my eyes on the road, but I can practically hear Ashley's face drop. "Congratulations," she says enthusiastically after a few seconds' delay. "You two are perfect for each other. So perfect."

"Thanks. But, you're coming right? I mean, a party isn't a party without a wild Ashley Kerwin ripping up the dance floor. And I'm sure Manny will ask you to be a part of whatever bridal party or whatever they have. You have to come."

"Of course I'll come."

"Good." I go on some more about the wedding and the planning and how it's driving me bonkers already and we've barely told anyone. It's good to finally have someone to talk to about this. But Ash doesn't seem that into it. At all, really. She actually looks kind of distant. "Are you alright?" I ask, interrupting my speech about how I don't care what kind of fish we serve, since I hate fish altogether.

"You know, before you told me about the marriage plans, I was going to do something really stupid. I was going to kiss you, or something like that. And I figured, what will it matter? I'm leaving anyways. But I had this fantasy that you would leave Manny for me. And you know what? I don't really know why. I don't have this huge crush on you. It just seemed right. I would finally be getting back at Manny for Craig, and somehow be getting back at Emma and JT, too, I thought. But, I can't believe I would even think that."

My head pounds. She was going to kiss me? God, I mean, I noticed her distance, but I never thought it was because of that. I thought that she was just pissed off that she didn't have her own boyfriend/lap dog of the week. I sigh deeply. "What do you want me to say?"

"That you're happy with her. That you're making the right decision, thereby affirming that my decision, also, is right."

"She makes me want to be a better man. I've finally found someone who makes life make sense. Fuck the cliches, man, the colors shine brighter, and the world is always smiling on me when I'm with her. I hope that's really what you wanted to hear."

She smiles and a single tear rolls down her cheek. "Definitely."

"So cut my wrists and black my eyes.

(Cut my wrists and black my eyes)
So I can fall asleep tonight or die,
Because you kill me.
You know you do, you kill me well.
You like it too, and I can tell.
You'll never stop until my final breath is gone."

I set my bags down on the grimy floor and leaned in for what is sure to be a marvelously awkward hug. True to my gut, it doesn't disappoint as his hand clumsily pats my back. "Thanks for the lift."

"Thanks for- Ashley. Thanks for everything."

He holds me out at arm's length with his other hand stuffed into his pocket. "You know what we look like, don't you?" I ask, looking around at the arrival/departure screens and the hideous carpeting under the same patterned chairs at each of the gates.

"What do we look like?"

"Departing lovers, lost in a sea of their own thoughts. Seems fitting, doesn't it?"

It doesn't seem fitting. Just say that it does. Humor me, please. No one seems to be doing that anymore. I love it when they humor me. "Perfectly fitting."

"I'm doing it," I say, finally free from his grip, and looking around on my own free will.

"You doubted that you would?"

"Every day since the announcement. Every day since we buried my brother."

"Oh," he shifts his gaze to his shoes as he awkwardly sways his weight from one side to the other and back again. I watch him, unsure of what to do next. Do I walk away? Does he? He seems to notice the tension as well. "I wish I could carry your bags and see you off at the gate."

"Don't worry about it. I'll call." I pick up my bags and start towards the gate. I turn my head around once to say a magnificent farewell to my hometown, and he's still standing there. Catching my eye, he lifts his hand in a wave. I wink to him and keep walking. I'm really doing this.

"So cut my wrists(you) and black my eyes(kill).
My final breath is gone(me)..(WELL)
And I cant make it on my own,
Because my heart is in Toronto."