I was in an alley. It was dark and damp. The red brick walls were filled with graffiti. The pavement was covered in squished gum and littered with chips bags and cigarette butts. There was music coming faintly from behind the heavy, closed door behind me. And in front of me lay Charleen. Her clothes were in tatters and blood seeped from many cuts on her. Someone was leaning over her. I'm not going to go into much detail about what they were doing, but he was groaning and she was screaming and crying. Realizing that I was there, the person drew away from Charleen. She tried weakly to cover herself up, tears streaming from her face, her eye makeup making two straight lines down her face. blood kept on pooling into the large round puddle around her. As I finally realized what was happening a wave of anger rushed through me. I felt a cry rush up from my throat. And I lunged myself at the shadow who I assumed was the guy who had raped the love of my life. The war cry that I released was like the ones you would hear in the movies. I tackled him onto the ground, and he too released a cry, which was not pure anger like mine, but also surprise and pain. I knelt over him and punches where I thought his head might be, to my delight I was right. I think I struck what I assume to have been his nose, and his eye, the others. I have no idea where they went, I guess some of them missed. really badly. But after a while he stopped fidgeting so I crawled back to Charleen. * * * I woke up on the bathroom floor, curled into a ball. I looked around me, and saw Jayne looking at me through a crack in the door, I couldn't in the door. I couldn't see her whole face, but the part I could see was contorted into a bewildered expression. Fear, pain, and worry were worked in there too. but I could tell she was about to scream, and almost crying. Somehow, after opening and closing her mouth a couple times, she mastered herself.

"Jace." she began, apparently unable to think of what to say. "you were. you."

I somehow made it to my feet, and after looking at myself in the mirror (my face felt wet, and I wasn't sure if it was blood or sweat, it ended up being a little of both. I was bleeding a from over my eye, I must have struck my head on something while I was dreaming.) I growled to her. "What?" I don't know what came over me, but the fact that she had seen me at such a weak stage made my stomach churn in disgust. "You've never seen anyone throw up before?" I WAS joking, but the bitterness in my voice was still there. Her eyes fell, so I guess she didn't realize my jest.

"You were shaking." She started, studying her feet. Then she looked up shyly "were you having a seizure?"

"No." I replied, dragging out the 'o'. trying to turn around the feeling of our, heated yet concerned discussion, I tried to used humor. "I was having a dream." I stated matter-of-factly.

"But. are y'okay?" she asked, stalling in the middle of the question. That was a question that I didn't know the answer to - at least not yet.

"Ya, 'm good." I answered, but, you know, without really knowing the answer. Actually, I only answered that because, that's the kind of thing that you're SUPPOSED to answered when people ask you a question like that.

I tried to stand up and barely made it, but I still attempted to careen towards the door. The key word there being attempted, I kind of fell down right in front of her. Without faltering, she swooped down to help me up. She linked her arm in mine and helped me up our beige carpeted stairs. Then escorted me into my room and lay me down in my bed. The last thing I remember is fingers running through my hair, taking the phone from beside my bed, and leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
*** I opened my eyes, and had to blink them a couple of times to get rid of the fog. It looked like I was looking at my room in a TV that didn't have good reception. I looked around my room as if examining it with new eyes. Posters of Rock bands hung on the walls, Red Hot Chilly Peppers, Rasmus, Dead Kennedys, Nirvana, and Queen, to name a few. Their CDs littered my floor along with my clothes. My AC DC T-shirt, and Nirvana (I love that shirt, a big 'smiley face' with 'X's for eyes) several pairs of Joe Boxers, Baggy Jeans, and my chrome Converse with skull shoelaces. Then there were also a couple of squeeze gel bottles, that I used to gel my hair which I had recently dyed black. I looked at my desk and jumped (or well, I jumped as best you can when you're lying down.) Then I blinked a few more times just to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

Jayne was sitting at my desk. She was writing something down, research I guessed for her (ahem, MY) project.

"Jayne, What're you doin?" I questioned.

I guess she thought I was still asleep, because she gasped and turned around.

"Holy SHIT! Jace you scared me hell out of me!" She breathed heavily.

"Oh my goodness! Jayne swore! Call the press!" I cried in a mock shocked voice- even thought my throat was so sore that it must have sounded more like a croak.

She reached onto my desk and pick up a used shirt, rolled it up, and prepared to Rat-tail me. But I beat her to the attack. I grabbed my pillow and hurled it in her direction. But I missed her, she was already coming in my direction. She tackled me, I was still not in the best shape after throwing up. After wrestling for a little bit, she sat victoriously on my stomach.

"While you're just sitting there, Listen up." She ordered in a strong voice. But I could hear the smile in her voice. I had been squirming around for the last little while. Not enough to make her want to get off of me, but enough to make her almost burst out laughing.

"I did some research for the project. I found a couple of sites that might help, but I didn't really read them closely. Maybe we could meet up at the library or something to go over them." she continued. "Oh! And I called your mom. She'll be here in 5 minutes."

After my endless squirming, I had managed to free one hand from underneath Jayne's legs. I pushed the covers away from my face, slowly, squinting into the light.

"Thanks." I said, looking her in the eyes. Her eyes were filled with love- friendly I assumed- and mine full of appreciation and something else that I couldn't quite place. It was displaying a feeling in my stomach -probably, I told myself, because of the food which was no longer in my stomach. My mouth turned up into a smile.

"what're friends for?" She stated. (a/n: I said stated because that's a RHETORICAL question) She smiled back. Then I realized two things. One: Jayne had really nice teeth. Now I'm not a teeth man. I don't like my girls with crooked FUGLY teeth. But the don't have to be perfect. But Jayne's were. Straight, white, not to big, but not to small. Surrounded by perfect lips, a thin upper one, and full lower. Her cheeks were dimpled and her blue-green eyes (that had a think outline of black) had a contagious sparkle. And her strawberry-blond hair wasn't as big now, but it looked so silky. For the first time a realized how beautiful my best girlfriend (a GIRL that is a FRIEND) was. And secondly. I realized that it was the first time we had described our relationship with words. We were friends, and it didn't seem right/