Monday morning comes quickly and Charlie wakes up in Aubrey's bed just before his alarm sounds off. They spent the night together and although he should feel some kind of positivity, it wasn't quite what he imagined. Aubrey spent most of the night talking about work and how she hates most of her colleagues and how stupid they are and clueless about the world. She continued with a rant about taxes and vacation prices and then spent half an hour trying to talk herself into buying a pet. Charlie stopped paying attention to most of it and discreetly turned up the volume on the television. He was still angry with her about the party and the fact that she never thanked him for making sure she didn't die. When the sex happened, it was different, and she could sense that though she didn't bring it up. They were both too exhausted to care.

Charlie leaves the bed and steps through the room carefully so he doesn't wake her. He enters the kitchen and makes himself a coffee as he yawns. His mind is still adjusting to the strange sleeping pattern he's had to endure after sleeping most of the day Saturday. Now he knows how Aubrey feels. He didn't think he'd sleep as well as he did last night but he was mentally drained.

Around twenty minutes later, Aubrey slowly walks through the doorway with a fluffy gown wrapped around her. Her eyes are low and heavy, she doesn't look at him as she moves towards the coffee pot.

"Morning," Charlie says quietly.

She grumbles something as a reply which doesn't resemble English. She isn't a morning person and she probably resents him for waking her up. She sits at the table with the mug in her hand and when he tries to speak she cuts him off by holding a finger in the air. He bites down on his words as she sips the coffee repeatedly.

"Proceed," she whispers, looking back to him.

"It doesn't matter," he mutters.

"Are you alright?" she asks. "I feel like you've been in a mood all night."

"I'm surprised you noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you even remember Saturday night?" Charlie demands. "How wasted you got? I had to carry you into this apartment, literally."

Aubrey rolls her eyes. "It was a party, there was alcohol. Besides, I wasn't the one that beat the most popular senior to a pulp."

"I didn't beat him to a pulp." Charlie laughs to himself.

"That isn't what everyone else is saying."

"Exactly, it's what other people are saying. You were too drunk to even know what was going on. Roy had it coming, I can't stand him."

"It still embarrasses me!" she hisses.

"I embarrassed you? You passed out in my arms! I had to lay you on the sidewalk and turn you over so you didn't choke on your own sick. But I'm the bad guy?"

"Okay," she says, taking a deep breath. "I shouldn't have got that drunk. I'm sorry and I'll be more responsible next time."

"And?" Charlie widens his eyes.

"And I'm grateful that you took care of me," she says, as though she's being forced to. "I was just having fun, I didn't think."

"You need to start thinking," Charlie says seriously. "What if I hadn't been there? What if it hadn't had been your friend's house? Do you think any other guy would have just picked you up and brought you home?"

"No," she says. "Probably not."

She's finally starting to understand the seriousness of it, how vulnerable and careless she was. He doesn't want to sound patronizing or like he's trying to tell her what to do but it scares him that she can be that close to being in harm's way and she doesn't have a care in the world about it. Sometimes he feels like he's the oldest one in the relationship and she's the one that's still in school.

"I'm lucky to have you," Aubrey says. She reaches over and takes his hand. "I know that, I just don't always show it."

"I need to get ready for school," Charlie says. He withdraws his hand and Aubrey narrows her eyes.

"Will you be seeing your friend from yesterday at school?" Aubrey asks suspiciously.

"Maybe, why?"

"Just curious," she mumbles. "I didn't know you had female friends. She was pretty."

"So?"

"She practically ran away the moment I turned up."

"Can you blame her?" Charlie hovers in the doorway, unsure whether to continue this or to go back into the bedroom. "You're not exactly the nicest of people."

Aubrey laughs. "Look who's talking."

She's got him there. Neither of them are nice people and both are especially wary of strangers. Charlie doesn't trust easily, he doesn't care easily and he can't figure out if that makes him more like Aubrey or if there's parts of him that are changing when she refuses to. Aubrey is meant to be the person that he can confide in, that he can tell anything to, but she has very outdated views on guys and thinks they shouldn't open up about their feelings because it makes them look weaker. His hatred of doing that anyway drew him to her but now he is struggling and he doesn't know how to let it out.

Charlie enters the bedroom and leaves her alone in the kitchen with her thoughts which can become quite dangerous. He knows she might burst in at any moment and start another argument but he's hoping that this time she can let it go. Thankfully she does and he gets ready in peace.

Over an hour later Charlie pulls into the school parking lot. There's no one else there and he has another hour before classes start. He turns his radio on and listens to a news broadcast as he texts his mother to let her know he's gone straight to school.

"The murders have shaken our community," a female voice says, most likely being interviewed. "I knew the family well; they were lovely people. They didn't deserve this. It's so scary to think that something like this could happen in our city. An entire family wiped out, just like that. And I've heard this has happened before, that this isn't the killer's first time. I hope they catch him. Soon. We're just devastated."

"That was a friend of the Jackson family who first alerted emergency services to the house after hearing gunshots," another woman says, the radio presenter. "This is the fourth family that has fallen victim to this killer over the course of eight years. Do you think the FBI are any closer to catching him?"

A male answers. "I'm not sure. This isn't just the fourth family, it's the fourth state. The first family that we know of lived in South Carolina, the second in Washington, the third in Florida and now Utah. This killer isn't afraid to travel and he's probably already at the other side of the country by now. He knows how to elude the authorities and crossing state lines is his way of staying under the radar."

"But there's such a huge time gap between the murders in Florida and now," the woman says. "He must be living somewhere. Do you think families in California should be vigilant? Because I do."

"I think families with two daughters should definitely be vigilant. That seems to be his pattern. I don't know. It's difficult. I'm sure the FBI are on top of it and if they think he's in California then they would be warning us."

"We can hope," the woman says quietly, before speaking directly to her audience. "We will be following these tragic turn of events closely and will let you know of any updates. It's Monday morning! Who else dreads Mondays? I know I do, although-"

Charlie switches the channel over. Soft music plays through his speakers and he rests his head back as he looks out of the window. Molly told him that she believed the killer was searching for her, maybe she feels it, like a sixth sense. California is huge and the odds of him finding her in Sacramento are a million to one but he worries about it anyway. Maybe this is what she meant when she told him that even if she did get better her life would be in danger. Maybe this is why she's so desperate to end it. He thinks about it for a long time, he tries to stop but it only gets more intense.

Cars begin arriving and teenagers begin piling onto the grounds. They come in waves, each one bigger than the last. He grabs his bag and he leaves his car. As he walks towards the entrance, he spots Roy across the lot. They make eye contact for a few seconds and Roy looks like he's about to charge over and strangle Charlie.

The crowded hallways create chaos, preventing Charlie from being able to think straight. He opens his locker and throws his bag inside. Many people stare at him as he walks to class, most of them have probably heard the rumour that he 'beat up' Roy and he'll have to face those silent allegations for the rest of the day, possibly even the week. High school reminds Charlie of fishing. They attach the hook, throw the line, and use the bait to draw you into their trap. He hates everything about it. He feels as though he doesn't belong around these obnoxious people-pleasers. He isn't tolerant enough to put up with their crap but somehow he has to be.

He sits at the back of history and he keeps his eyes up front as all of the girls stare at him from every direction. He pretends not to notice and he keeps that unbalanced mindset for the remainder of the lesson.

By the time lunch comes around Charlie is sitting outside next to the fountain. It's been a tiring and annoying day. From the stares to the whispers to the giddy laughter from girls every time they talked about him, he's just had enough. The only upside was that he didn't see Camilla all day, until now.

"Why don't you have any friends?" she asks as she takes a seat next to him without checking first.

"I have friends they're just not in high school," Charlie mutters.

"Oh right your college buddies," Camilla says. "That one with blonde hair was hot."

"Great."

"Everyone's talking about how you beat up Roy," Camilla says as she starts chewing on a sandwich. "He's like the toughest guy in school, you've practically won the heart of every girl that looks at you."

"I didn't beat up Roy," Charlie hisses. "I punched him, once."

"They're also saying that he put you in hospital and that's why you've got the sling. I set them straight about that. You're welcome."

"Camilla, did you actually want something?"

"Roy's looking for you," she says quietly. "He has a reputation to repair so naturally he wants to make a scene."

"I'm surprised it's taken him this long to find me," Charlie says.

Camilla studies his uninterested reaction and laughs. "You're not scared of anyone are you?"

"I'm more scared of you than I am of Roy."

"I didn't see what happened but he had it coming by the sounds of it. Stranger things have happened. Like you and freaky Molly."

Charlie glares at her. "What?"

"Come on, did you really think Aubrey wouldn't text me for the low-down? Why were you playing soccer with her? You know she's mentally damaged right?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Charlie says. "Has Aubrey told you to spy on me?"

"On the both of you," Camilla giggles. "She's not at school today anyway but I told Aubrey nothing is going on. I mean, you and Molly? It's hilarious."

"I can't believe this." Charlie rubs his jaw angrily. "Actually, I can believe it. She's ridiculous."

"Right? Even if you did cheat on her you'd still have standards. Does she have a crush on you or something? Were you too nice to tell her to piss off?"

"Just leave it alone," he says. "You don't know her."

"And you do?" Camilla smiles wryly. "I didn't have to tell you; you could at least thank me."

"We both know I'm not going to do that."

The only reason Camilla has told him about Aubrey is to drive a wedge between them. Aubrey is too blind to see it, no matter how many times Charlie has warned her about it and it makes him feel sick that Camilla pretends to be the all-loving sister. She tries to look more like Aubrey every day, she's even dyed her hair back to a chocolate brown. She wears fake tan, fake eyelashes, and even has painted her nails white, which is the colour Aubrey usually uses. As much as Charlie hates to admit it, Camilla is attractive. She's just ugly in many, many other ways.

"What are you going to do about Roy?" she asks.

"Nothing," Charlie says.

"I don't think that's an option right now."

Charlie follows Camilla's gaze to the corner of the building. Roy is charging towards them with three of his football friends flanking him. Suddenly, half of the school seems to appear around him. Charlie stays sitting at the fountain and Camilla tenses at his side.

"Let's see how tough you are when I'm not drunk," Roy shouts over.

"Why do they always bring their friends?" Charlie mutters. "Do they think that's more intimidating?"

"Yeah," Camilla says, as though it's obvious. "Charlie, I think you should go. They're on the football team, they're untouchable, but the principal will expel you."

"I'd like to see the principal explain that to my mother." Charlie grins to himself. "Let them have their fun, Roy needs to get this out of his system."

"You have a death wish," she mumbles.

Roy stops right in front of Charlie and then backs up a few paces. "Stand up."

Charlie flicks his eyes to the three big-built guys hovering in the background behind Roy. Charlie knows that it doesn't matter how big you are, or how many muscles you have, strength only gets you so far in a real fight. They might think they can take anyone, that they can intimidate anyone, but Charlie has faced far worse egos in the boxing ring. Even the fights he lost were a win to him because they gave him experience. He wonders how much experience Roy has even had with his fists or if it's all just an act to scare others into bowing down to him.

"Stand up or I'll drag you up," Roy hisses.

Camilla places her hand on Charlie's leg in a desperate attempt to stop him. He ignores the pressure and he starts to stand.

"Do you really want to do this?" Charlie says. "I'd rather not spend the rest of my afternoon being interrogated by the principal."

"That's what you're worried about?" Roy says. "You won't be conscious for that interrogation."

"Oh. Then go ahead."

Roy charges forwards and throws the first punch. Charlie swings sideways and backs up as Roy falls into the seat at the fountain. The crowd of people around them seems to grow bigger but Charlie is used to ignoring an audience. Roy groans angrily and throws himself into a tackling position on Charlie's waist. Charlie elbows Roy's back and then uses his knee to hit his stomach. Roy holds it for a moment as he bends over and then straightens his spine. He takes a deep breath before running at Charlie. Roy's fist comes at his face and Charlie catches it in the palm of his hand, he clenches his teeth as he holds it and then pushes Roy backwards. Charlie's shoulder begins to sting so badly that the adrenaline doesn't disguise it. He puts the pain to the back of his mind, just like in the ring, and he focuses on instinct.

"Are you done?" Charlie says.

Roy's reply is a loud grunt that Charlie takes as a no. He could end this with one punch but he's trying to avoid it, even if it runs his energy down. Punches to the face are unpredictable and can be fatal, especially with the power in Charlie's fist. He shouldn't have hit him the other night but that's when he was protecting someone else, this time is different.

Roy attempts to punch him again and Charlie moves out of the way. The crowd is almost silent, it's like they're hanging on to every second. Roy charges at him, again, and Charlie has had enough. He grabs Roy's throat and pushes him backwards into the fountain. His hand squeezes the air from his lungs and Roy's eyes start to go bloodshot. Charlie releases him and Roy falls to his knees, choking on the air.

"Ego trips are dangerous," Charlie says. "Save it for the field."

Everyone stares at him as he grabs his bag and walks away. Camilla runs to join his side but she can barely keep up with his strides. He wants to put as much distance between himself and Roy as possible, and he also needs his painkillers. Camilla follows him across the parking lot and starts babbling as Charlie roots through his car.

"What the hell was that?" she demands. "Why didn't you hit him?"

"You might be too small minded to believe this," Charlie mutters as he finds his painkillers beneath the passenger seat. "But punches can actually kill people."

"Oh, come on, one punch wouldn't kill someone."

"Like I said."

"I'm not small minded," she says angrily. "I'm just trying to understand why you didn't defend yourself."

"I did defend myself. There's more to a fight than just throwing punches." Charlie slides into his car and closes the door.

Camilla knocks on the window but he ignores her and starts the engine. He's got a free period and he was going to leave school grounds anyway but now his destination has changed. With an hour and half to spare he drives towards the bridge and crosses it quickly.

After parking his car, he stands at the entrance to the mental health hospital. He doesn't know what he's even doing back here. It's like he has no control over it. He turns around at the last minute and heads back to his car. He can't bring himself to unlock it, to leave, so he thumps his hand on the roof and sighs. He waits for his nerves to relax and then he walks back to the entrance, with no hesitation this time. He stands at the door as all the doctors and nurses turn to look at him from behind the reception desk. He walks towards it slowly.

"Can I help you?" a woman in a white coat asks.

"Yeah, is Doctor Ranch here?"

"What is this regarding?"

"His patient, Molly, I just need to speak to her."

"They're currently in a session but if you take a seat then I'll let Doctor Ranch know that you're here once he's finished."

"Thanks."

Charlie drifts to the chairs lined up at the back wall. There are other people there that are waiting too and he can't tell if they're visiting or waiting to be admitted. It takes so long that he starts to play a game on his phone, halfway through he receives a text from Aubrey. She's asking him where he is because Camilla has told her that he left school. He closes the screen and puts the phone into his pocket. A few minutes go by and then the doctor walks through the unit doorway. He sees Charlie straight away and stares at him for a moment before walking over.

"Hey," Charlie says. "Is she up to visitors today?"

"Charlie, I need to talk to you," he says quietly. "Let's talk over here." Charlie follows his to the corner of the room, which is quieter and more private.

"What happened?" Charlie says. "Is it Molly? Is she okay?"

"Molly's fine, she's responding well to the treatments."

"Okay, that's good. So what do you need to talk about?"

The doctor folds his arms and sighs. "This is becoming a little concerning. I want Molly to get better and I think on some level you want that too but I'm curious as to what you're getting out of it."

"I don't understand what you're trying to ask me," Charlie says. "I just want to talk to her."

"I know that and I thought having you as support would be good for her but Molly is still very fragile and very sensitive. You can't just keep appearing and then telling her goodbye and then appearing again. This needs to be consistent or not at all, to prevent her from getting hurt."

"Did she say that?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then I'll wait to hear her say those words herself. She isn't a glass vase, she's strong enough to tell me the truth. If she wants me to get lost then I'll leave but only when she tells me to."

"Do you really think this is what's best for her? I saw the way she looked at you yesterday, if you hurt her then you are destroying everything we've worked on."

"I would never purposely hurt her," Charlie says. "We're friends and she needs a friend right now. She's smart enough to know the difference you just never bothered to ask her."

The doctor smiles as though he's proud of Charlie's passion. "Don't make me regret this."

He walks over to the door and types in the code, the door buzzes open and Charlie nods to him as he enters the wide hallway. He doesn't come with him this time but Charlie doesn't need directions. As he passes a room with an open door he freezes as he hears a female voice shout through it.

"Hey, you!"

Charlie turns to look at a woman with short, black hair that is sitting in a chair with a bunch of clothing in her lap.

"You must be visiting because I would definitely remember seeing you around here. Do you want to come inside? I won't bite."

"No thank you," Charlie says, just loud enough for her to frown.

"Shame," she says, looking away.

Charlie continues walking, his pace quickening as he anxiously passes more open doors. He stops outside Molly's and takes a deep breath as he knocks. There are no windows so he can't see inside. What if she's in the shower? Or asleep? He takes a look down the hallway to see multiple girls staring at him from their doors. Their expressions are still and curious, almost like they're sleep walking. The door opens and Charlie practically bursts in.

"This place is so creepy," he says.

"Um. . . hi?" Molly says, closing the door as she spins around. "Please come in."

"Sorry. They were all staring at me."

"They probably heard the knocking," Molly says. "They get curious about visitors. Don't worry they're not dangerous or crazy, just depressed. The dangerous ones are locked up tight above us."

"That doesn't make me feel better," he mumbles. "I know that I've just turned up completely unexpectedly so if you want me to leave just tell me."

"No, it's fine," Molly says as she drifts to the bed and sits on the edge. "I was just watching a movie but it's pretty boring. What's wrong?"

Charlie laughs. "Is it that obvious?"

She nods as she smiles at him. "It must be bad for you to come back to a hospital."

"I knew you'd hold that against me." Charlie drags a lounge chair from the middle of the room and positions it in front of her. She looks different today. Her hair is fresher and more radiant as it falls around her shoulders in curls, and she's wearing a frilly, long-sleeved shirt with flowers on it, paired with dark blue jeans and heeled boots. It's hard for him to be this close to her, to see how beautiful she is, and not have the courage to tell her. "You ditched the sweatpants."

"Yeah," she says. "It's something we've been talking about in our sessions."

"Getting dressed?" Charlie half-smiles.

"It's simple but effective. Coming out of depression takes effort, physical effort, and dressing in nicer clothes makes you feel more. . . proactive? I guess."

"But less comfortable."

"Definitely," she says. "I might switch back yet."

"So, what have you been talking about today other than clothes?"

"We watched a movie about a family torn apart from tragedy. Then they came back together and it made them stronger. Then we had an hour-long discussion about it and how well I handled not having a panic attack." She rubs her face.

"That was risky."

She shrugs. "I think he's just trying to prepare me. I can't avoid triggers for the rest of my life and it's been too painful to face them before. Even though his methods are a little unorthodox he definitely knows how to filter out your worst fears. I've never met a therapist like him. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's nothing," Charlie whispers. "It's just good to see you with energy. It's like you're changing a little more every day."

"I'm not cured, Charlie," she says. "Far from it."

"I know. But you're not desperate to kill yourself anymore, right?"

"Right." She doesn't look him in the eye when she says that, and he isn't sure if she's lying. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Free period, then sexual health which everyone practically ditches anyway. I have no intention of going back there."

She studies him closely, connecting dots that he's subtly throwing her way. "What happened?"

He rubs his hands together and then leans back into the chair. "I got into a fight with Roy Tanner, he started it and I think I've made things worse."

"You fought Roy Tanner?" She widens her eyes. "But there's not a mark on you."

"Didn't really give him the chance to leave one," Charlie says with a nervous laugh. "He was beating on this kid the other night at a party so I put a stop to it and somehow I'm the bad guy. How does that work? Anyway, he brought half the school to watch his revenge which ended with him on his knees and me driving. . . here."

Molly narrows her eyes. "I see."

"It makes no sense, does it? That you are the person I want to come talk to when I'm angry. We hardly even know each other, it's crazy."

"Why is it crazy? It feels natural."

"Yeah," Charlie agrees. "Very natural. You're not the only one facing your fears."

"Talking about your troubles shouldn't be a fear," she says kindly, her voice is so soft and gentle that he could listen to it for hours. "You might think it makes you look weak but you are literally talking to someone that has had their emotions dissected into pieces. It was painful but it never made me feel weaker than I already thought I was."

"It's a bit different for guys, Molly. We just hate admitting that we're crumbling."

"Are you crumbling?" she whispers.

"If I was I wouldn't admit it." He smiles and she rolls her eyes. "I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. Who I am anymore. I was laying in bed next to Aubrey this morning and I felt like I was laying next to a stranger. I kept hoping that she didn't wake up because I didn't want her to see how terrified that made me. She never talks about the future, if I even try to have that conversation then she changes the subject, it's like she's considering breaking up with me every day and somehow she doesn't."

Molly opens her mouth slightly to speak but he isn't done yet. She closes it and smiles softly.

"I just don't know what I'm doing with my life," he says. "I'm not concentrating at school, I'm not sleeping well. I hate doing the self-pity thing because it's not me. But lately I feel like I'm just repeating the same day over and over, it's like I know-"

"You know what's wrong but you can't figure out how to change it," Molly answers for him.

Charlie sighs. "Exactly."

"I don't think it's as bad as you think it is," Molly says. "Usually, it's just one thing that you need to change and take from your life to make it better. And usually, that one thing is the biggest part of it."

"It's not taking from my life that's the problem," he says. "It's adding to it. I feel like something is missing but I just can't find it, I just know it's to do with Aubrey." He leans back into the chair and folds his arms. "I can't break up with her. I've tried. I've tried so many times. That's not it."

Molly clears her throat. "Then enjoy it. Enjoy her. Take her somewhere, a vacation, a weekend away. Somewhere she can't get out of. Life really is too short even at seventeen, take it from someone that knows," she says. "You don't know how lucky you are to have someone no matter how she treats you. It's better to have something and to learn from it than to spend your life alone."

Charlie thinks she expects some kind of sarcastic response in return but he's just looking back at her. "What?" she whispers.

"Nothing," he says. "You're really wise for your age, has anyone ever told you that?"

Molly smiles for a short moment and plays with her fingers in her lap. "I've been through a lot. I had to grow up fast. I had to face things that wouldn't even seem real to adults."

"I get that," he says, looking at her with pity. "So, what would you do in my situation?"

"Well, maybe you should think about what drew you to her in the first place. She must have some good qualities."

"She did," he says. "At the beginning she was so different. She was sweet and caring and had a spark, a fire inside of her, that I liked. But over the last few months she changed completely. Her family blamed me for that but ever since she broke free from them and started doing things on her own, she just. . . didn't care anymore."

"Did her family control her?"

"I guess. They're rich snobs with more money than sense. They had her future planned out since she was a child."

"If they controlled her for all those years then I'm not surprised she changed. It's her way of finding herself and protecting herself."

Charlie didn't expect her to take Aubrey's side but he's glad she did because he's starting to understand it from a different angle. "I never thought of it like that."

"I saw it a lot in the foster homes," Molly says. "Mental abuse used on teenagers since they were kids, it turned them selfish and aggressive too because they thought they'd still have to fight their way through everyone and everything to get something they want. Once they get their freedom they'll do anything to keep it, to never have to go back to feeling scared or controlled again. That means they can't always think about other people and they'll put themselves first."

"What are you saying? That Aubrey needs therapy?"

"Probably not," Molly says. "She'll gradually come out of the phase once she believes she's safe and that her life is hers and nothing to do with her parents. But some never recover from it, their parents will mess them up for life."

"People are strange," Charlie says. "My father was a twisted sociopath but I only have good memories of him. And yet there's people out there that screw up their kids and act nice to everyone else."

"I can't really relate," she mumbles. "My father was the best I could have asked for; both of my parents were. I could tell them anything and they'd never get mad or upset, they'd just listen."

Charlie looks at her but doesn't speak, because he doesn't want to shock her out of it. He doesn't think she even knows she's doing it, but he wants her to keep going.

"I remember this one time I broke all the plates while I was carrying them from the dishwasher to set on the table and I thought they were going to scream at me. We had guests over for dinner and my parents didn't get angry at all, they had us all eat out of pans and bowls; it was actually quite funny."

"I did something similar once. I broke the television screen while I was playing with Jaz and my mother did scream at me." He laughs quietly to himself. "To this day she watches me every time I go near it."

"Well sure, they're expensive. I'm on her side."

"You're on Aubrey's side, you're on my mother's side, when are you ever gonna be on my side?"

She smiles. "When you're right."

"I like your honesty. I don't appreciate it but I like it." He hears her laugh quietly, but then she looks down at the dog and starts stroking him slowly. "Do you know when you'll be released?"

"Thursday," she says. "It's a little scary trying to prepare myself to adjust to a life that I never wanted. Who knows, maybe I'll try a bit harder to enjoy it this time."

"I think you'll ace it. Life is hard but people are generally easy. You either talk to them or walk past them, there's not much to it than that."

"Damn, is that all? Where have you been for four years?"

They both chuckle. Charlie witnesses the sparkle in her eye for the first time, it's like a small torch light shining out of the brown. The topic changes to their favourite and least favourite classes which he isn't surprised to find that hers is art, and then they discuss the political matters of the state which makes them both furious and unnerved. They talk for hours, and even when the subject creates awkward pauses they fill it with something else. He starts to notice new things about her; like how she taps her fingers against her leg when she's shy or how she plays with the tips of her ears when she's thinking. She answers some questions confidently but second guesses herself on others. Her favourite food is ravioli with garlic bread rolls, her birthday is the tenth of January, she prefers baths to showers and she always reads a book before falling to sleep. She's never drank alcohol and she's never been on social media. There's so many things that she hasn't done that he's creating a list in his mind.

It's not until there is a knock on the door and the doctor enters with Molly's foster family that Charlie realizes how much time has passed. She introduces him quietly, not knowing that they've already briefly met. They talk for a few moments and then Charlie plucks up the nerve to leave. He never thought that talking would be something he'd enjoy, but with Molly it's as easy as breathing. She listens even when there's nothing to listen to and whatever connection they shared on that bridge became bigger and stronger than either of them could have predicted.