Jt, Toby and Manny had all huddled around Emma at Craig's house, deciding exactly what would be the best battle plan to fix her hair. They speculated that it was too dark to simply put the dye on it -- they would have to lighten the black first. All in all, that was as far as the plan went, because a half an hour later, they were still sitting there with the dye, discussing Snake.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Em," Manny assured Emma, taking the hair dye into her hands. "Besides, worrying about that right now is kind of pointless."

"I'm not worrying. I'm just curious to find out what's happened."

Jt snatched up the box, twirling it. "I never really got these things."

"Uh, it's for disasters like this!" Emma exclaimed, pointing to her head.

She stood and followed Manny up the stairs, but not a minute later, a crash was heard, and she was bolting down the steps. There was Craig, standing lamely in the doorway, Jt off to the side laughing his head off. It was adorable, the way he stood there so puzzled and fidgety.

"Craig," Emma said, continuing to walk downstairs. "You said you were coming later."

"I know -- I know but Ashley had to go."

"Actually, Emma, it's getting past my curfew," Manny whispered. "I need to go."

"Take Jt and Toby with you."

Emma and Craig had seated themselves on opposite couches, on opposite sides of the room, as far away from each other as possible. Craig found himself fussing around like a moron but couldn't bring himself to stop. Every position he was in was never good enough, and whatever conversation starter that popped into his head he ignored. They were all laughable -- and he was so exposed. So exposed to her. He was so transparent.

"Angela's getting ready for bed," Emma said. "And Jack's been asleep all night."

Craig nodded. "So, um, sorry I didn't stay at the rave longer, it's just that Spinner -- he hurt my stomach pretty bad."

"How bad?" Emma asked, taking a standing position. The pillow that had been on her lap fell to the floor.

She approached him, his eyes wide and mouth falling open. He really had no idea what to say.

"Uhh..." Craig immediately stood up, noticing that they were really close. "Pretty bad. I mean, it still hurts."

Emma took a light grip on his shirt, making him fret even more. How far was she going to go with this?

"Can I?" she asked.

Craig nodded, not daring to open his mouth.

Emma lifted his shirt, unclothing his pale stomach. The fact that her eyes were actually on his stomach made him want to go weak and giggle at the same time.

"I don't see any bruises... does it hurt when I do this?"

She places her ice cold hand on his stomach, causing him to shiver. She pressed down on his rib cage and glanced up at him. He realized about now he should be feigning sounds of illness.

"Oh! Yeah, Ow!"

"This right here?"

"Yeah, that one."

She let his shirt fall back into place, covering his stomach once more. He knew he was going to relive this moment hundreds of times to come.

Emma turned and sauntered back to her couch, then looking at the box of dye on the table.

"Craig, would you mind if I dyed my hair in your kitchen sink?"

"Dye -- oh, your hair! That's dye?"

"Yeah, what was it supposed to be?"

"Nothing! Nothing, just... I'll help."

Emma was in the same uncomfortable hunched position for the second time that night. The only thing she could hear was the sound of rushing water as it cascaded down her head.

"It's just something I read once," Craig shouted, spraying her hair with the hose. "If you put hand soap on dyed hair it's supposed to lighten it."

"I can't hear what you're saying!"

Turning the knob to the off, Craig took a towel and patted Emma's hair dry.

"I said hand soap lightens the dye."

"Oh," Emma said, straightening herself and holding the towel in its place. "Does your stomach hurt?"

Craig laughed, amazed at the fact she was still thinking about it. "No, it's fine."

"Don't be such a matyr," she giggled.

"Me the matyr? Oh, yeah right, Emma!"

Emma unwrapped the towel and threw her head back, then forward, splattering Craig with water, cackling insanely.

"Oh, Mr. Manning. I'm sorry." she said innocently.

Craig paused for a moment, taking in the hilarity, then grabbed the hose, ready to point it at Emma, but was interrupted by the phone echoing through the house. Dashing madly for it, Emma snatched it up and brought it to her face, listening intently. Craig stood off to the side for what felt like eternity, waiting for the verdict, waiting to see her reaction. He knew whatever it was, he'd be there to deal with it. He'd have to. More importantly he wanted to.

"Okay... Okay... well how long is he in there for? Yeah... I promise. Bye."

Emma slowly put the receiver down, not moving. Completely silence. There was no movement in her, no response. She simply stared listlessly ahead. Craig watched her in concern, stepping forward, determined to make her feel better, feel anything--

However he was apparently not need. Emma sprinted away, running faster than he had ever seen her go, up, up the stairs and gone.

Craig couldn't bing himself to run after her. He had spent the past month filling his mind with the preposterous idea that maybe she thought of him, maybe she , but that was all wishful thinking, all of it. The hour was so bleak, dismal, a cinematic pain nothing could match. And the world around him, such a pretty picture. He was a filthy wreck in a picture perfect world.

Emma was a heartbreaker. She prospered in his mind unjustly. She had no right to be there, to have what she had of him. And she had it all.

It's a feeling that contradicts itself -- hating someone for not loving you, staying desolated for their sake, staying ruined because you know they're good enough to have your pain, to be the cause of it. But they don't even know it, which is such an asinine concept, such a laughable thought -- it was bitter.

He was a screaming little boy, and he was screaming for her. Over and over again, screaming. She was born to rip his heart out and she didn't even know it.

He felt like he was having a heart attack, his chest was so heavy. He was chasing her, chasing her constantly, but her speed never faultered. She had done it to Sean, she had done it to Chris -- now he was her latest victim, a prized posession of hers to keep, to hide away forever. It was like history. She had her own museum, and now he was part of it.

He was wrapped in his twisted emotions -- the ones full of hate, the ones with passion. And the fact that all she had to do was apologize -- he would forgive her in a heartbeat, because he couldn't resist her.

Why did she have such an effect on him? This girl, this one girl, had wrenched all these feelings, from so many people... Being in love wasn't all it was cracked up to be. And why? Because being in love isn't all good, like all the books tell you. When you love someone, they can make you or break you, and Emma was breaking him. Unintentionally breaking him...

Love is full of all sorts of unknown dimensions, and Craig was just beginning to devour them.