Author's Note: This is my longest part yet... It came out to nine pages on Word.

Author's Note 2: The dashes symbolize either a change in time or narrative voice.

Author's Note 3: Italicized words in ' ' are thoughts.

Author's Note 4: It might be a while till I write my next part since I'm starting college soon... So I really hope you guys enjoy this one.

Feedback: Greatly appreciated.


PART VI: Refuse and Revelations

It was a cloudless sky, and the sun hung high above my head like the ax of an executioner, who held it steady in place to prolong my suffering – as if the task at hand wasn't enough. Bottles, cans and other varied garbage littered the floor for, what seemed to be, miles. If I did manage to miraculously clean up the refuse, it was undoubtedly certain – due to contemporary man's inherent indolence – the park would revert to its landfill guise. Like Sisyphus, I was doomed to a never-ending task whose only purpose was punishment – but at least I had company.

"Hey…" I said, greeting Jessie who seemed to have arrived at the park sometime earlier than I had, for the garbage bag which she daintily carried was already half-full.

"Hey!" she said, a bit relieved. "I was worried you weren't going to show."

"Are you kidding?" I said, faking a smile which Jessie genuinely returned. "On a nice day like this…who wouldn't want to go to the park –" As soon as she turned around, my smile faded. "– to pick up other people's garbage…"

"Yeah…It's kind of hot though –," she said turning to me once more, not hearing that last part or perhaps ignoring it. "– considering it's still February."

"That's global warming for you…"

I picked up an aerosol can of computer duster that lay by the merry-go-round.

"What's that doing there?" asked Jessie, coming closer for better inspection.

"Are you serious?" I could not believe Jessie was that naïve.

She looked up at me and opened her mouth to say something, but as soon as she looked into my eyes she turned bright red and averted her gaze. I guess she was embarrassed of her ignorance.

"It's the poor man's drug," I answered informatively, holding up the can. "A great inhalant for only $3.98 at your local Office Max!" I announced in my best infomercial voice but Jessie wasn't very amused. She looked at me like my father did after I told him since Princeton didn't work out, I could always blow off business and go to Brown to become an English Lit major… Basically, it was a look that said, "That's not very funny…"

I smiled at Jessie and handed her the can. When she took it from me, our fingers touched and for a moment there was that awkward feeling… that feeling you get when you touch a stranger's bare skin. It's the ultimate invasion of personal space, and I guess that's why it's so awkward. For someone to get so close to you whom you barely even know, it's weird.

I pulled my hand back as soon as Jessie took hold of the can. I thought she would be offended by my sudden repellence from her, but instead she kindly smiled and placed the can into her garbage bag which lay a few feet away.

"You know, people come here all the time to get high," I explained.

"At a children's playground? That's sick," she dispraised.

"Is it?" I asked rhetorically. "Yes, the act of doing drugs is immoral, but when it is committed at a place which is incongruous with immorality the act becomes something ironically beautiful."

Jessie raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"Well, beautiful or not…I wouldn't do it."

"Why not?" I asked indifferently.

"Because it's wrong," she strongly stated.

"What makes it wrong?" I asked, still unemotional.

"Well…" Jessie paused to think this through. "Like you said yourself – it's immoral."

"Oh, I see…So just because something is immoral, it is automatically wrong?"

"Yes," answered Jessie as if it was common knowledge.

"Well, some people think that gay marriage is immoral. Does that mean it's wrong?"

"No…"

"No?" I asked, feigning shock. "But you just said immorality is synonymous with wrongness."

"But gay marriage isn't immoral."

"Well, the President seems to think so. I mean, he tried to pass an amendment banning it from the country so it must be wrong."

"The immorality of some acts is debatable, but that of doing drugs is certain," reasoned Jessie.

"Why?" I challenged. "What makes the immorality of doing drugs certain and gay marriage not?"

"Because drugs can kill you!" yelled Jessie, finally reaching her limits.

"And marriage can't?" I asked coolly with a devious smile. This caused Jessie's frustration to intensify which showed in her narrowing eyes.

The expression was one I often received, especially from my mother whenher prescription for Prozac runs out and from Sarah when… well, just from Sarah. It was the wordlessly articulate squinty-eyed look that said, "You are starting to irk me, Kathryn Singer, and I will gladly burn your head off if you do not desist – as soon as I figure out how to shoot these damn lasers out my eyes…" but Jessie's was more endearing than threatening.

"Immorality isn't what judges whether something is wrong or not." I reproved. "It's people…"

Jessie traded in her frustration for wonder as she stared at me intently.

"Wrongness is subjective," I continued. "What one person thinks is right could be considered to be wrong by another. And vice-versa…Everything depends on matter of opinion. And, in that respect, we will always be wrong."

"It's a paradox…" she stated, finally comprehending my point.

"Exactly."

I smiled. It was the first time somebody actually got me.

"Whoa…That's deep, man," said Jessie like a drugged-up hippie. "You came up with that all by yourself?"

"No…I think I read it in Vogue somewhere," I joked.

Jessie furrowed her brow then began to laugh. Her smile was warm and kind and so eloquently naïve…It was much different from what I had always known. It wasn't a façade to be put on display; a veil to shroud ulterior motives. It was just a smile – as simple as that. And maybe that is why I was so intrigued by it.

"Speaking of tedious periodicals," I continued as I averted my gaze from Jessie's mouth which deterred my focus. "I read your manifesto."

"Oh yeah?" said Jessie, a little surprised. "What'd you think?"

I composed myself and returned to a disposition of indifference.

"Truthfully, I found it rather appalling," I disdainfully replied.

"That's a first," said Jessie, who seemed confused by the sudden change in my demeanor. "Most people praise me for it."

"Most people are sheep…Who are you to knock what you've never experienced?"

"I'm not knocking anything," clarified Jessie. "It's just my belief that people shouldn't actually experience the act of love until they are in love and that people our age are too immature to be in touch with those emotions. I don't think…"

"No. You do think and that's the problem," I snapped.

"Sorry for having independent thoughts."

"No. That's not what I meant…Haven't you ever done something without analyzing every minute detail…without worrying about its consequences or whether it's right or wrong…and just doing it simply because – you feel like it?"

"That sounds completely irresponsible."

"It's what teenagers do best…" I said with a grin of assurance. "You say we're too immature, but it is precisely at this age when we are in touch with 'those emotions' – so much so that it's unbearable. Everything is intensified when you're a teenager. We're at that middle point of growing up when we're beginning to develop new adult desires for love and sex while still possessing the child's lack of restraint…Falling in love is inevitable."

"Did you pick that up from Vogue too?" teased Jessie.

"Haha…"

I rolled my eyes, not appreciating the derision of my point.

"I have a question." stated Jessie.

"Oh?" I asked, not surprised.

"Yes…Oh. You think you're the only one who has the questions around here?" asked Jessie jokingly. "I know you're rich but I don't think you're wealthy enough to monopolize the world's supply of questions."

"Just wait till I turn 21…" I replied a bit pretentiously.

"My question is –" continued Jessie, ignoring my arrogance. "Haven't you ever done something without taking yourself so seriously?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're always so tense and defensive…"

"I am not!" I retorted.

Jessie laughed at the irony of my response.

"You need to lighten up," she advised.

"I am lighten! Can we drop this?"

Angrily, I sat on the merry-go-round by which I had found the can of computer duster.

"Fine…" surrendered Jessie, taking a seat beside me.

The place reeked of alcohol and cannabis. It no longer was a site of innocence, but a perverse incarnation of its former self. The blood-red paint had already faded; the iron bars were rusted and worn. Children no longer played here. It was a paradise lost to the trials of untimely corruption and premature disillusionment…And Jessie willingly followed.

"You know you don't strike me as someone who reads Seventeen."

"What?" I asked, confused by the randomness of her comment.

"My manifesto…It was in Seventeen," clarified Jessie.

"Oh…Well, I don't usually read it," I explained. "It was just that…I had to go to the doctor, and it was the only magazine in the waiting room so –"

"Why'd you have to go to the doctor?"

"Well…uh…I had laryngitis. My throat was inflamed and all mucus-y…It was very serious…almost fatal, even," I embellished for dramatic effect.

"Well, I'm glad that you were able to read my manifesto while in such a troubling state of near death."

I guess Jessie wasn't as naïve as I had made her out to be.

"All right. I admit it." I said, raising my hands up as if she had caught me. "I have a subscription to Seventeen as well as many other magazines possessing the word 'teen' as the suffix and/or prefix of its title…But they're strictly for educational purposes.

I mean, they provide you with such vital information necessary in life like what is Hilary Duff's favorite lip gloss and why Legolas is such a hottie," I added sarcastically.

"Lancôme Juicy Tubes and…the pointy ears did it for me."

"What?" I asked, again confused by Jessie's randomness.

"Hilary Duff's favorite lip gloss…It's Lancôme Juicy Tubes. And the reason Legolas is so hot…Well, I always thought that pointy ears were a strong sign of virility…Very attractive."

"You can't be serious…"

"Ohh yeah…When I was little, I had the hugest crush on Spock…"

The thought of a little blonde girl swooning over a middle-aged man with fake plastic ears glued to his head seemed rather funny, I have to admit.

"Why, Katie, are you actually laughing?" asked Jessie in mock-surprise.

"No…" I answered, keeping a straight face.

"No?" asked Jessie like a mother who knows that her child is lying.

"Nope," I said, reaffirming the fact that I definitely did not laugh.

"All right…" said Jessie, apparently dropping the subject.

But five seconds later…

"You know, you shouldn't mock the hotness of pointy ears," reproved Jessie jokingly.

"Oh yeah? Well, why not?" I asked, playing along. "Give me one reason you find them to be so hot."

"They give you something to grab on to…" said Jessie with a suggestive smile.

This time I couldn't deny it. Jessie had made me laugh. And – I know this makes me sound like I was a compassionless bitch – it was the first time that it wasn't at the expense of her pain or anybody else's.

"It's okay. You can laugh…" said Jessie, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

Gently, Jessie's smile found its way onto her lips. It drew me in with its blush-red allure, asking me to inspect it closer. For something so simple, it had its intricacies – which fascinated me. And when her smile disappeared into her lips as quickly as it came, I became conscious of the shortening distance between Jessie's lips and mine. Her breath felt warm as it lightly brushed against my skin and grew shallower with every inch I took. I closed my eyes, accepting that there was no turning back…

"HEY, KATIE, IS THAT YOU?!" boomed an obnoxiously loud voice from, what seemed to be, the other side of the park.

I quickly turned my head which was just centimeters away from Jessie's to see an oafish Tad stomping down the gravel path as if attempting to pave it.

"See, I told you she'd be here," bragged Tad, happy that he was actually right, which is a rarity.

"So, I see…" said Sarah, appearing out of nowhere.

After Sarah, Russell appeared from behind Tad. And then I realized that they hadn't materialized out of thin air…just emerged from a hidden portal located in Tad's back.

I got up to greet the three.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" I asked, angry that they had interrupted… things.

"Well, hello to you too, darling," said Sarah mockingly.

"Us? What the hell are you doing here?" asked Tad, turning the tables.

"What I said I was going to do! You were there…"

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually go through with it. When was the last time you actually did charity work – without it being part of a legal sentence?"

"Well…I…" I stammered, for the first time, unable to explain myself – not even with lies.

"What's going on?" asked Jessie, joining the conversation – which could only lead to no good.

"Jessie, you know Tad…" I said, grudgingly beginning the introductions. "Well, this is Russell…And that's –"

"Hi, I'm Sarah," said the girl with the devilish grin, reaching out her hand as if to seal a bargain with Jessie for her soul.

Reluctantly, Jessie shook Sarah's hand.

"Yeah, I know you…" stated Sarah. "I've heard a lot about you…"

"Oh yeah?" asked Jessie, taken aback. "From who?"

Sarah looked over at me before answering.

"From Tad…You're the new girl, right?"

"Yeah…" admitted Jessie, a bit embarrassed.

"Well, it was nice meeting you." said Sarah in her faux Marcia Brady tone.

"C'mon, Katie! The Sugarcult concert is in two hours and we still have to pick up another person," whined Tad. "We have to leave now if we want to get good seats. You know – the ones next to some drunk girl with big breasts, a tight shirt and loose morals."

"Speak for yourself," chided Russell.

"Oh yeah, and a gay guy for Russell," added Tad.

"Man, shut up!" rebuked Russell, punching Tad in the arm.

"No, guys, I'm not going," I explained to them slowly, so that maybe this time they'd understand. "I promised that I'd volunteer here."

"What are you talking about, Singer?" asked Russell, whose turn it apparently was to ruin things. "What happened to that 'vow of abstinence from selfless charity' bullshit?"

"I–I just…"

I faltered a second time. But, this time around, something was different…

'Jessie is still standing here…? God, she's still standing here! WHY IS SHE STILL STANDING HERE; GODDAMMIT?!'

I froze…which is weird considering Jessie's eyes were practically searing the flesh off my bones. I guess she finally figured out how to get those damn lasers to work.

I looked around to possibly befall upon the reconciling words able to release me from such an unsolicited position. Instead, there was Sarah…

"You know Katie can't abstain from anything – especially when a helpless blonde is involved…"

Sarah looked over at Jessie. She stared at her for a long while, seemingly sizing her up. Did she feel threatened by this wisp of a girl?

Sarah then turned to me and cupped my face in her hand.

"Farewell, my dear, sweet Kathryn."

She leaned in to kiss my lips; but I turned my head, unwilling. She settled for my cheek instead.

"Let's go, boys," ordered Sarah, and then the three were gone.

Again, Jessie and I were alone in the silence. I didn't want to say anything because, I hoped, if I hadn't and simply stood still then time would stand with me…But time isn't such a faithful companion.

"You're Kathryn Singer?" asked Jessie as if she did not want to believe it.

At that moment, I didn't want to believe it either.

"Yes," I answered, almost inaudible.

"I've heard about you…" began Jessie, her voice a little shaken.

"Well, I didn't know that it was you exactly… Not at first… I mean, I know who you are… Well, at least I thought I did… But now… I don't know… You're… You," ranted Jessie, overwhelmed by newly-arisen questions whirling around in her head.

"And I…" continued Jessie. "I almost…"

Tears began to fall from Jessie's sullen eyes. It was like her mind was so flooded with these drowning thoughts that it began to overflow.

"What have you heard?" I asked hesitantly.

I was sure of the answer, but I wanted Jessie to say something…anything to drown out the deafening silence.

Jessie surfaced from her thoughts and cleared the tears from her eyes. She now stood resolutely with a strong, solemn gaze.

"How you've promised several girls the world just so you could get them in bed with you…"

"Who told you that?" I asked, desperately wanting to know so I could seek the snitching bastard out and inflict upon him excruciating pain.

"Is it true?" asked Jessie, avoiding my question.

Jessie looked up at me; and, this time, she didn't turn away.

"No," I replied, finally telling the truth…

"I didn't have to promise them anything."

------

It was a cloudless sky, and the sun hung high above my head like the ax of an executioner, who held it steady in place to prolong my suffering. Then, when the time came for it to fall upon me, I welcomed it with open arms as my weary head was laid down to rest.