A/N: Hello Fictionpress. Long time no see. Well, I'm back with a new story. This is just something I thought of while I'm working on Misfit. Jefferson and Avery from Difference are back except this isn't a sequel nor is it a side story to Difference. In fact, this doesn't take place in the same world as Difference and Misfit. I love my characters so much I may tend to recycle them. So I hope you enjoy this story and please let me know what you think.

The smooth sounds of the melody flows through Jefferson's ears as he stands at the threshold watching Avery play the piano. He notices how her dark, wavy hair falls down her back stopping near the small of her back. Even though she's sitting down, he can see how her waist curves in and flares out at her hips, emphasizing her backside. Yes, he's checking out her butt, but he's more engrossed in the beautiful tune she's making with her fingers.

His lips form a smile as she continues to play, lost in her own world. He loves how she gets like that whenever she plays an instrument. In a way, he's envious of her musical talent, but she's probably jealous of his athletic ability. They're great at different things, have different passions with the same ambition. That's one of the reasons why they're drawn together. They were opposites but want the same out of life. To be the best they can be.

He didn't expect to find her here in the music room. He was afraid he'd never see her again, let alone get a chance to hear her play. Words can't describe the warm feeling in his heart. He leans against the threshold and folds his arms over his chest and continues to watch her, not daring to interrupt her.

The song is touching; it kind of reminds him of a fairytale of some sort. It's a slow ballad; the notes are low but still rise when appropriate. It's that kind of song that can bring a grown man to tears. It's amazing how music can cause the toughest hearts to become emotional. That's why he envies her so much. She has the ability to make people cry with her hands while his hands are used for throwing and catching a ball. He gets a rush every time he'd strike out a batter from the opposing team and hears the crowd cheering for him; maybe she gets that same rush from performing in front of an audience and gets a standing ovation.

The song begins to speed up a bit. He's surprised at how suddenly the mood changed. It's rather intense. She's always adding her own modern twist to classics, but this is the first time he's hearing this song so he figures it's an original even though he's not familiar with Bach, Yo Yo Ma, or whoever else may be in her collection of classical music. The smile on his face disappears as he notices her body tense up.

Suddenly, the song stops.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

Jefferson groaned as he stirred, turning over on his left side and hitting the alarm clock with his fist to turn it off. This was the fifth night in the row he's dreamed about Avery, and each time she's playing some instrument. What baffles him is that he never sees her face, just her back watching her play like he's not even there. Maybe it's his guilt getting the best of him. It's been four months since it's happened, and not once has he gone to see her. His mother has, but he's yet to accompany her. It's not because he's afraid of hospitals, he's had his fair share being in an emergency room. It's the thought of seeing her in intensive care broken. His friend's been in the hospital for several months and he's never gone to see her.

Yeah, that's it. The reason why he's having those dreams is because he's feeling guilty for not going to visit her. It's not that he doesn't want to see her, in fact, it's killing him not knowing of her condition, wondering if she's going to make it or not. He just can't bare the thought of seeing her like that, knowing he probably could've done something to prevent it from happening. He hates himself for abandoning her like that, but he hates the bastards who put her in there more.

After he's gotten up and dressed for the day, he goes downstairs into the kitchen to get something to eat. His mother, Catherine, was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee while watching the thirteen inch television that sat on the counter facing the table. When she notices him descending from the stairs, she turns her attention to him and greets him with a warm smile, "Morning."

"Morning mom," he mumbles, heading over to the stove and looks inside each food container to see what's inside; grits, Canadian bacon, and buttered toast. He'll just settle for some orange juice; he isn't a big breakfast eater anyhow.

As soon as he sits down at the table, he instantly notices what's on the television.

"As of right now, the four men who are being charged with aggravated battery against seventeen-year-old Avery Olivier will not be released on bond."

Catherine picks up the remote and turns the television off when she sees him cringe. Anger begins to build up inside of him. Catherine sighs out of sorrow. These past few months have been the hardest for them especially Jefferson. He never mentions Avery or the incident and pretends to carry on with his life as if nothing ever happened. She can see the pain in his emerald eyes and wants to reach out and hug him, but he won't let her. He chooses to hide his inner feelings which aren't good for him. She thought about taking him to see a counselor, but her husband, Senior, talked her out of it. There's something about the James' men that loved to keep things hidden even from loved ones. It kills her every day seeing him sad. She wants him to talk to her.

"Jefferson…"

He cuts her off, "I don't wanna talk about it."

He gulps down the rest of his orange juice, stands up, and takes his empty glass to the sink, "I think I know where I'm gonna go to school in the fall."

"Oh really?" she asks before taking another sip of her coffee.

He goes back over to her and nods. The pain in his eyes is still evident, and her heart sinks. She can't take seeing him like this any longer. He needs to get help. His father knows it despite him trying to convince her otherwise. She's not going to force him to talk to her. She doesn't want to stress him out anymore than he already is.

"I'm going to Notre Dame," he says.

She draws her eyebrows together in a questioning manner, "Notre Dame?"

"That's what I said."

An uncomfortable silence falls between them. He knows what she's thinking and wasn't in the mood for it. He doesn't want to talk about it, and he tells her over and over again that he's not going to that hospital. He just can't. He stands there waiting for her to speak. He's so messed up in the head that he wanted her to chastise him for acting so nonchalant to this situation. He wants her to scold him and beat him over the head for not wanting to see his friend for not seeming to care when she gives him updates on her condition.

She doesn't say anything except, "Okay," then goes back to drinking her coffee.

Shocked by her swift response, he goes back upstairs to get ready for school.

A/N: Well that's the first chapter. Please let me know what you think of it so far. I'll really appreciate. Deuces!