Melissa stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck haphazardly to her ceiling. They'd been there since she was a kid, keeping everything a little brighter at night. Now, she just thought they were creepy, and she couldn't sleep.

Without sitting up, she reached over and pulled her cell phone off the dresser. It had been a couple of weeks and Jackson still hadn't called. Her phone had to be on at all times, because if he did call, and if he did want to talk, she wanted to be ready.

She'd gone over a few conversations in her head already. He'd say, "Hey," and she'd respond with a happy, "What's up?" and then they'd talk about normal things, like homework, and fast food. Jackson liked McDonald's. She knew that because it was where they had their first real date. How romantic.

And then he hadn't called.

Of course, there was nothing stopping her from calling him… except he hadn't given her a cell number and she was afraid to call his house. Afraid of what?

She didn't know. She didn't want to know.

As soon as she'd tossed the phone to the bottom of her bed, it began to ring. Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. She sprung forward and opened it without checking the caller I.D. She was so sure. It had to be him.

"Jackson!"

"What?"

"Eric?" she asked, making a sorry attempt to blow long strands of black hair from her face. "It's… it's three in the morning…"

"Oh, don't pretend like you were sleeping."

"I-I was," she lied.

"You answered after one ring."

"Why are you calling?"

She hated him. She hated him. She hated him. Now more than ever. Why couldn't he have been Jackson?

"I couldn't sleep same as you."

"Wait… you have glow-in-the-dark stars too?"

There was a pause, then, "What?"

"Nevermind." Had that sounded crazy? The stars were keeping her awake. Didn't they keep everyone awake? "What's the matter?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Eric, I'm not your mother. Aren't your pills working?"

She knew he was sick. She could see it in the way he moved at school, the way he looked at things. But she would never bail him out again. She hated him.

"I don't take them."

"Well, there's your problem."

"No, that's not my problem. What would the pills do? I need to talk to someone, Melissa, but no one wants to talk."

"That might have something to do with the hour, Eric."

"My dad made shrimp for dinner."

And there it was. The fear that would always rise up in her throat and force her to help him. Why did he always have to do that?

"Melissa?"

"I… I heard you, Eric," she said, gripping her blanket as if it would make things better. "You didn't eat it, did you?"

"I gave it to the dog."

"Good." She could relax now. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"No… I… I…"

"What, Eric?"

"I want to talk, Melissa."

"Talk to your dog."

"Very funny, Melissa," he replied, and he yawned. "My dog wasn't with us out there. I want to talk to you."

"Eric," she sighed, "it's three o'clock in the morning. I'm tired. I'm going to hang up now, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll see you on Monday, alright?"

"Okay."

"Try to get some sleep, Eric, okay?"

"I thought you were going to hang up," he reminded her. Still the same smart-alec. Still the same Eric.

"I hate you," she hissed, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"I love you," he replied.

"Gosh, you're such a frustrating jerk!" she shouted into the phone. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

Silence.

"Eric?" she asked, worriedly before pulling the phone away from her ear and facing the blinking time of the ended call. He'd hung up almost ten seconds before she'd yelled at him. It wasn't enough that he'd ruined her early-morning musings, he'd had the guts to hang up on her. She was supposed to have the last word, and how he was probably just drowning in his ego.

He thought he was so smart! She hated him.

And as she contemplated throwing her phone out the window, it began to ring again.

"Eric, I swear—"

"What?"

"Jackson," she whispered, breathless. "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry, I thought—"

"It's okay, Melissa. Listen, I've got… a problem. You can drive... right?"