"Your mom will be waiting for you," he said, stepping back.

"You should go in and say hello," I replied, knowing how counterproductive that suggestion was. "Mom always asks about you. Even though I keep telling her we don't talk anymore."

For a while, Cas fell into a somber silence until, with a thin voice, he found the strength to say, "Your mother is kind."

"You always say that. But you never come to visit her. She's worried about you." I bit my tongue before continuing. I relived for a moment the experience of being beaten in the dark alley. There was a snake in Casper's nest, and he refused to admit it. "I'm worried about you."

His figure approached slowly. "I can take care of myself."

"Really? Look me in the eyes and swear you're not treading dangerous waters."

I'm not exactly sure where he looked, but I doubt it was my eyes.

"Ben, just stepping out of the house for me means trading dangerous waters. You don't understand what it's like to live in the Pit, I'm not the one looking for trouble, trouble is my neighbor."

"And with that excuse, you always felt entitled to disregard any rule." I sighed, tired, too bitter to have that conversation again. "I keep thinking if you hadn't put together your damn gang, mom might have broken through and made you a decent member of society. But, truth be told, I think the real problem came before that."

I pointed my gaze into the darkness, where I knew his Kawasaki Ninja H2R stood unmoved. That bike had given him a freedom he had never experienced before. It had been his ticket to complete autonomy. All he needed to distance himself from my mother and pretend there had never been anyone willing to lend him a hand.

"So do you regret it?" Cas asked in a whisper. "Giving it to me?"

The memory of his sixteenth birthday was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. I had put the keys to the bike in a package and wrapped it with a bow and wrapping paper. We had climbed to the top of Saint Moore's Hill. Sitting on a precipice that opened to the entire city, I had pulled out the box and asked him to guess what was inside.

"Give me a hint! It could be anything!"

"It's something you've always wanted."

"Your mouth?"

He had laughed, leaned over me, kissed me slowly, and the abyss had seemed so far away.

When I proposed that gift to my mother, she hadn't hesitated. It was a nail from the Nicholson estate, but for Casper, it had always been an unattainable dream.

And he had dreamed it for a long time, with his nose glued to the TV screen, staring at small motorcyclists clad in protective gear racing around the same track for two hours.

I had never understood his love for those metal monsters, but...

"I couldn't regret it. I know that if one day I was really in trouble, you'd rather drown than ask for help. At least with that, you have a life jacket. You can sell it or pawn it, and you'd have enough money to start over."

I jolted when I felt his hand on my arm. I could make out his outline, but I hadn't realized he was so close.

"I miss you so much."

My heart was crushed, squeezed in unbearable pressure. I wanted to touch him, tell him, "I'm here, I'll always be here."

And he took advantage of that moment of weakness. He took my face in his hands and kissed my lips, tilting his head to one side, leaning over me.

I grabbed his jacket, feeling a new strength coursing through me, his scent so close.

His tongue found its way into my mouth, I let it in, welcomed it with a moan.

One of his hands slid into my hair, gathered it in his fingers, pulled too hard. I closed my teeth on his lip and warned him to loosen his grip, or I would hurt him.

He liked to push his luck, enjoyed finding out if I would carry out my threats. He pulled my hair, and I bit him, sinking my teeth into that fleshy lip of his.

He left both mouth and hair with a laugh mixed with a squeak of pain. "You're terrible."

And I was coming back to myself.

Casper approached me again, taking me by the shoulders to kiss me again.

"No! Don't touch me! Stay away from me!"

I was grateful I couldn't distinguish his expression at that moment. His touch slid away from me, and I took a step back, rubbing my lips with the back of my hand.

"It's over," I explained, for the billionth time. "There's nothing between us anymore, and there never will be. I can't keep hurting myself like this. It's over. I'll leave Norgree before the end of this year. I'll find a college far away from here and forget about you."

"I know."

I knew it was a selfish sentiment, but I wished he would add something else, anything that could make me feel better.

I took another step back, but instead of leaving, I stayed there waiting. Hoping.

"I'm sure you'll find someone worthy of you at some big prestigious university." I saw him move, but I didn't understand what he was doing until I heard his voice muffled by the helmet coming from the bike. "I was wrong to involve you. Forget about this letter thing. I'll handle it on my own."

The roar of the motorcycle erupted again, growing louder, then fading away, farther and farther, until it disappeared completely.