Draft

"What's up, buttercup?" I grinned, loving the way her skin shone like gold under the day's last sunlight. It was one of those perfect evenings where I was loving everything though, even the simplest thing like the knowledge that my heart was still beating beneath my shirt. She looked beautiful, so much so that it scared me suddenly and I felt shy for the first time in months. 

"Nothing," she answered, and my superb mood quavered just the tiniest bit. 
"Something's always up," I replied bravely, willing myself not to screw everything up by being a chicken at the wrong moment.
Then, with no warning, she unexpectedly lapsed into tears and my good mood nosedived faster than a pelican. I sighed inside, thinking for the millionth time that I really would never understand girls no matter how hard I tried. 

However, I had learned enough about them not to say anything stupid when they were crying. And as I couldn't think of anything not-stupid to say, I did the next best thing and said nothing. It really seemed to be the only decent course of action, although I briefly considered putting my arm around her; but then I clammed up again. Plus, there was no way such a move wouldn't come off as either jerky or overly-ambitious. I couldn't risk either. 

This is nonsense. What are you doing? A voice carrying some semblance of reason rose up to stop my rampant thoughts. 

Panicked, I realized that the girl I was absolutely mad over was in desperate need only a few feet away and I was too preoccupied with my game plan even to notice. She mattered. I didn't. Even if nothing would ever come of it, right now I was her friend and that was the most important thing to be. 

I slipped down onto the ground next to her, sending a little cloud of dry sand flying. 

"I'm sorry," she choked, sputtering a little. I was somehow comforted by the sheer ugliness of her as she cried. She always looked so perfect, like a china doll, only tan. This was something new. Mascara and snot were mingling in ways that made me feel better about the times I'd burped in front of her, or the way my hair stuck out wildly sometimes.

"Did something happen?" I asked. In the back of my mind the snarky, eloquent version of me cringed at the words. OF COURSE SOMETHING HAPPENED, IDIOT.  

"I didn't get my scholarship," she gulped sadly. 

"Scholarship?" (For those of you who haven't read the Guy's Guide to Surviving Conversation, repetition is the ultimate fallback.) 

"Yeah," she said, running her arm across her nose. "It was a pretty big one. I'll still be able to go to college and everything probably. I just won't get to go to the one I wanted to go to." She paused, her voice deepening shakily. "I think I'm just realizing that all my dreams aren't necessarily going to come true. At least not in the way that I thought." 

"I think that happens to everyone once in a while," I said, forgetting about the Guy's Guide to Surviving Conversation and just remembering some of my own crushed dreams. I started to relax, and then I felt bad for relaxing, when she was so upset. I shoved all the other thoughts from my head and said,"There's always a chance for a new dream or two." 

"I know," she murmured huskily. "And I'm sure I'll be happy with new dreams. But new dreams might be littler dreams. I'll probably end up settling down with a nine to five job, and cooking dinner and watching tv. I really just thought I had a chance at making a difference in the world. You know?" 

I nodded, my pulse quickening. I did understand. I understood perfectly. It was a horrible feeling, realizing that reality might ruin all your hopes and ambitions. 

"I think I had it figured that I would get to travel, change people's lives--have adventures. I guess the world is a little bigger than I used to think," she said sadly. The cool breeze whipped through my thoughts, swirling sand, like confetti, all around us. 
"Well, what's wrong with that?" I smiled, shrugging. "You still have two feet. So...you might just have to walk a little faster than you expected." Her brows furrowed uncertainly. 
"Do you think I'm cut out for adventure? Truly?" 
I nodded. 
"Of course. I think everyone deserves at least one adventure." 
Shaking her head, she stared at me. 
"What?" 
"I just don't understand you." 
"Me? What's so hard to understand?" I laughed. 
"Everything," she murmured. "The way I see it, as much as I try not to think this way, the world we live in is full of smoke and traffic and rising taxes. I mean... there's pedophiles out there. And gun violence. And dads letting their kids overheat in cars, and obesity and anorexia and not enough water or pills for sick people in Africa. And there's...hatred; people always angry at each other and arguing. How do you always seem so certain in everything?" Her two front teeth played sharply around her lips, worrying at a scab. Those tortured eyes drilled into me with surprising intensity, daring me to listen for real this time. I looked back at her and focused. It wasn't an illusion. She was real. For the first time I saw her for what she really was, snot and dripping eyes into the bargain. None of that ugliness mattered, just like none of her beauty mattered. She was more terrifying than she'd ever been before because in that moment she was asking me the one question I had always feared more than anything. 

"How do you stay solid when everything else is chaos?" 

It scared me because I knew the answer. Had always known it. But once she knew, everything would change. And then I'd have to face my reality. A reality that would be everything she wanted.

Just without her.