summer's in three days, if you don't count the weekends, and i can't help but feel like we're growing apart. every friday i sneak into the boy's bathroom, where nobody seems to ever use anymore, not even the boys, and trade a cigarette between you & me. i like to flush the cockroaches down the toilet even though i'm suppose to be saving the animals and you, you like to push pills down, down, down. it seems to make you happy when i can't.

"tell me," i say, "would you catch me if i fell?"

"look at me," you mumble, "i can't even catch myself."