In Loving Memory,

"I still talk to him sometimes."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I wave at him, when i can see him. I text him, but he never replies. He doesnt respond, really."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I wish I knew. I can tell you as much as I can, if it helps."

"Go ahead."

"It all started last summer..."

*Flashback*

"Rylie. Thats a nice name." I look up at the sound of my name, instinctively covering my sketch book with my arms. What i see in front of me would probably be any other girl's dream, but it was my nightmare. Xander, the boy I played with in the sandbox. The boy that rode bikes with me. My first kiss. My first love. My first heartbreak. And the worst part was he had no idea who i was. Until now.

"I...yeah...Rylie...me." Smooth.

"What are you drawing?" His eyes point curiously, almost invading, at my sketch book while he sits in the routinely unclaimed chair. My hands just tighten their grip around my book.

"Nothing. Why...why are you talking to me?"

Woah. That took all my courage. Im a shy girl, quiet and modest. If any one said anything bad about me, no one would believe it. Mostly because they would have to ask who in the heck was Rylie Williams and why were you talking about her.

"What, you dont want to talk to me?"

"Its honestly never crossed my mind."

Rylie Williams. You are an idiot. You have waited 3 years for Xander to talk to you, and he finally is. Whats with the hostility?! His face actually turns disappointed, and I'm afraid he might leave.

"Im sorry. Im just not exactly the type of person people...uh...talk to."

His laugh. Oh my god, his laugh. It floated up from his diaphragm, filling the space between him and i. It was like a song, the way it made me feel like it was just us. Rylie and Xander. Xander and Rylie. Us. Together. And i couldnt shake how much i loved the fact that he was here with me.

"Funny and pretty. They dont make them like that anymore."

I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. If my lack of social contact didnt scare him away, my insane blush certainly would. But Xander just smiled and i just cringed.

"Its not funny. Its my life."

Even as i say those words, i cant help but feel a traitor smile creep up. I was so pathetic. But Xander was here. It was ok. He thought it was ok.

"Maybe we can change that. Friends?" He sticks out one of his hands, the creases and calluses brought together into one welcoming gesture. Although this whole friendship thing was kind of new to me, i was willing to try it. What was there to lose?

I slide my hand into his, my cracked purple nail polish clashes with his perfect clean nails.

It fits. His hand-it still fits. Though my dry skin and short un-filed nails make it less pleasing to the eye, i love the way the warmth and energy surges through my hand and snakes up my arm. And i hate how cold i feel all of a sudden when he pulls away.

"So tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Favorite color."

"Red."

"Favorite song."

"Terrible things, Mayday Parade."