I watched her as she walked away from me, her head practically hanging to her chest. The poor girl had gone through hell, just to defend me. Her stupid friends were completely undeserving of her. She was nice. And she was smart, too. They held her back, as far as I could see. She had always managed to keep herself on the honor roll, and I knew that the only reason she asked me for answers to tests, or to do someone's homework, was for her friends. I knew, deep down, that she was still the same Page who always used to say 'No, no, Sammy, I shot you in the knee so you wouldn't die, so don't play dead…' when we were playing cops and robbers. We'd had so much fun when we were younger. Playing games and throwing water balloons at Dean when he brought dates home.

But something had happened when we got out of middle school. She seemed to just, kind of float to a different group of friends, and leave me with, well, no one. I mean, sure, I understood that everyone our age wanted to hang out with the popular crowd. Hell, I had been trying since that day to get in with them. And I'm sure, had it been up to Page, I would have. But her friend Eleni and Eleni's boyfriend Todd made all the decisions for the group, and they pegged me as 'easy target' from seventh grade on. Meaning, no one wanted to hang around with me, in fear of being labeled a loser, too. I'd spent a few months in the chess club, before something went wrong there. Apparently, a threat from Todd, caused me to be kicked out of there, too.

But through all the hell that Todd and Eleni put me through, as far as I knew, Page was never involved. She wasn't raised like that, anyway. Her mother was sweet--when we moved into the double wide we were living in, next door to the Fabrizzio's house, she showed up with a giant cheesecake and invited us over for dinner. Page and I were babies then, but we played together in the playpen--and Mrs. Fabrizzio still had the pictures up on the wall. I remembered seeing them the last time I was at Page's house, when her mom invited me for supper when my dad and Dean were out doing their thing. Mrs. F. would do that sometimes, because on occasion, my dad and Dean would be out for weeks on end.

I had to admit, though, that while I was glad that Page approached me and started talking to me, I was a bit dubious of her intentions. At first, anyway. But when she said what she had to say and walked away, I realized that she meant it. So, I rushed up behind her. The way I saw it, if I let her go through the rest of high school alone (or until they came to their senses and asked her to come back to their group, at least), I was being just like them. I could at least offer for her to hang out. If she said no, I wouldn't be shocked. A little sad, maybe, but not shocked. I rushed up behind her and touched her shoulder. She turned around, and I cleared my throat. "Wait! Page…thank you…" I said softly, putting my hand in my pocket and blushing beet red. "Are you doing anything tonight? I mean…not that I actually think you'd want to, but…I have a bit of cash--maybe you'd want to go get some pizza?"

She grinned at me and nodded, running a hand through her hair. The grin then turned to that classic Page smile that hadn't changed, even since we were elementary schoolers. "Sure, that sounds cool," she spoke softly, shifting her book bag on her shoulder. "I just…need to drop my backpack off at my house so I'm not carrying it around and thinking about homework the whole time, if that's all right…" she said, continuing on the path toward our street, nodding for me to follow her.

I put my hands back in my pockets and walked alongside her. I was still sort of unsure of how to talk to her, since we hadn't really talked since the summer before seventh grade when she invited me to her pool party for her twelfth birthday party. So I simply walked beside her, and looked at her, waiting for her to say something. But she just stood there, staring at the ground with a really sad look on her face. Not that I could blame her. Going from queen of the school to outcast in one day must have been even harder than always being an outcast. "Hey, if you want my opinion? Which you probably don't?" I started as we turned onto the back trail that got us to our street faster. "I've always thought you were above them. I mean, you have a brain, and a heart too. You're…so much nicer and smarter..." I told her. Plus, she was far more beautiful. But I wasn't about to say that.

She looked up at me and smiled as wide and as genuinely as she could in this situation. "Thanks, Sam. I mean, it's really sweet of you to say, but if you think about it, being nice and smart, you know this better than anyone--it doesn't get you a seat at the cool table at lunch. I mean, if brains and personality were the determining factors of popularity? You'd be the Todd of the school…" she said to me, taking a large step to clear a giant puddle in the trail. "But if you're nice and smart, you get stepped on. I mean, I wish I could have stopped caring a long time ago. You know?" she looked off to the side of the trail. "But I was so obsessed that I just…changed everything about who I am--who I was, just to be in their clique."

It shocked me that she actually had the presence of mind to think of this, after all that she'd been through today, but I wasn't going to go against it. Because she was right. She deserved better friends than those idiots. "I know, but…" I tried to think of the best way to word this. There were a million wrong ways, and only one right one, and I still, even with my extensive vocabulary, had trouble finding it. "You're…better than them. I mean, you deserve better friends. People who will stick by you and, you know…treat you as you should be treated…" I swallowed hard and looked away from her. I knew she'd laugh at me, and I didn't want to see it.

But rather than being laughed off the face of the planet, I felt her touch my upper arm and roll up onto her tip-toes to kiss me on the cheek. I turned to look at her, and saw that she was smiling. "Thank you, Sam. Really. You're such a good person. Much better than anyone I used to hang around with…" she told me, nodding toward out houses. "I'll come to your place with you, so you can drop your stuff off, and then we can stop in at my place really quick. My mom would love to see you…"

I froze. Of all the years we were friends, playing in my backyard and all that, she had rarely ever been in my house, mainly because my dad was paranoid of her seeing all his hunting gear. But dad and Dean had been gone for a couple of weeks, so as far as I was concerned, Page could come in. If she asked any questions, I'd just…change the subject and tell her that the minimalist theme in my house was because I was the only one who was always home. "Sure. I need to grab a bit of cash from my room anyway…" I headed across the grass, Page close behind me, and into the back door of the double wide trailer we called home.

Page wasn't saying anything at all. And her expression, though confused, wasn't disgusted as I expected for it to be. Which was really cool of her. I was sure she remembered my dad being really weird, anyway. I opened the door to my room and went inside, noticing that Page was just staring down the hall, at the living room and all of the weaponry my dad had locked up. That was the only way he'd leave me alone, which I hated. It wasn't like these things were after me anyway. But trying to convince dad and Dean of that just led to some really harsh arguments, and usually left me going for a really long walk. I reached into the top drawer and pulled out twenty dollars of the money that my dad had left on the table when he and Dean left this time. Glancing toward the door, I saw that Page was looking around, and was still quite confused. "Forget how weird my dad is?"

She snapped to attention, looking me in the eye. "Oh. Um, yeah. Well, no. But I don't remember there being guns in a cabinet next to the couch…" she shrugged. "To each their own, I guess. So, where is your dad? And your brother?" she asked, brushing a hand through her hair. The last time we'd really…hung out…was before I was old enough to be left home alone, anyway. So, she didn't know. She had no clue.

I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders. "Business trip…" I told her simply, failing to mention that just yesterday, before they had gone, my dad and I had a blowout, and I'd woken up the next morning with no idea where they'd gone, simply an envelope containing six-hundred-dollars and a note from Dean that said nothing but 'about four weeks.' I assumed that meant how long they'd be gone, but…it was hard to tell, really, with how cryptic they could be at times. Still, I didn't have the chance to ask any questions, and even if I did, I wouldn't. "That's all I really know."

She nodded and showed me an uncomfortable glance. "Oh. I'm…sorry…" she bit her lip and looked at the floor. "Um…ready to go to my house?" she asked me, trying to bring some happiness back into the conversation. And I nodded, because I knew that if anyone could make me smile, it was Page's mom.