"Don't you love me, Jamie?"

"More than you love me."

"Aw, come on, why ya gotta be like that?"

She didn't answer, just stared up at the sky—the sun peering down through the branches, the leaves creating a green canopy over her head.

"Because, Kyle. It's true."

She could feel his eyes, those deep black eyes, on her, but she doesn't look up. She just closes her eyes, tips her head back farther, and takes in deep breaths.

"Will you miss me when I'm gone?"

"What's that supposed to mean, Jamie?"

She smiled—but it wasn't a real smile. It was a broken smile, her lips holding the ghost of happiness in place, like a cracked porcelain mask. He didn't notice.

"Nothing."


"They say it was quick."

"..."

"Kyle?"


"Kkkyyyllleee..?"

"J-Jaime..?"

"Do you miss me, Kyle?"

"No."

"I didn't think you would."


She looks so pale. He's never seen her like that, her hair splayed over the pillow, her brown eyes shut, her face blank.

She could be sleeping.

"Why did you come?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

He turns to her brother, he thinks his name is Jason or Jon, or Jim. He never really paid attention when she talked, so he's not sure. "Because she wanted me to."

Jason or Jon or Jim punches him, and Kyle goes down, down, down. He hits the floor and stares up at the lights, spinning dizzily above his head, and he can almost see her face—her eyes wide and glossy, like the first time he'd kissed her—before the world spins away into darkness.


"Kyle.."

"Hmm..?"

"Please miss me."

"I don't need to miss you. You're right here."

"What if I wasn't? Would you miss me then?"

"No."

"Kyle?"

"What?"

"Please miss me."


"It's been three years."

"Hard to believe, huh?"

Kyle took another swig of whiskey, the sounds of the highway beneath their feet suddenly muted. He didn't know why he'd brought Matt along. Maybe he just didn't want to be alone.

"Yeah. Hard to believe."

"She was such a crazy bitch, wasn't she?"

"Yeah."

For some reason that's funny. They laugh, until the sound echoes off the pavement below, and the sound of the cars below is all but gone. And when they can't laugh anymore, they drink. The whiskey burns Kyle's throat, and he coughs, his eyes tearing, the lights below becoming fuzzy.

"What a crazy bitch."


"Kyle?"

He glances up, and she's there—in that same blue dress she always wore, with the buttons up the front and the roses. Her hair is down, falling to her waist, her wide brown eyes watching him, her lips pulled up in a smile.

She looks so alive, so real—and for the first time he can remember—she looks beautiful.

"Do you miss me?"

"No."

"I didn't think you would."