I needed a drink. Something hard that would burn like fire as it slid down my throat. Something to make me relax. Something to make me forget. It was sad that the circumstances had gotten so bad that I was even considering alcohol; after that party at the beginning of the summer I had been staying as far away from the stuff as possible. Even looking at it made me shudder with disgust, reminded of how helpless I had felt under the grips of whatever drug had been racing through my system.

Still, I couldn't give in to such a stupid temptation. I had learned my lesson and I didn't plan on testing my luck out twice.

He wouldn't look at me. I eyed him over the top of the cheap, cardstock menu, biting my lip. It was understandable. He had every right to be upset with me. First, he takes me to see his mother, tells me about his choice to pursue his dream, and suddenly I'm impossible to reach. I still felt bad. Bad enough to try making up for it by taking him to a quiet diner so that we could talk in peace.

I knew what I wanted; I got the same thing every time I had been here. I only looked at the menu in an attempt to restore some semblance of normalcy to the dinner. Taeyeon was staring out the window at the steadily darkening sky. His eyes hadn't left that sky. I didn't know what he was thinking, but clearly it was pretty complicated because he hadn't spoken more than a word of greeting to me.

"So," I started hesitantly, "my parents came home today."

For a long moment, Taeyeon kept his eyes on the sky. Then he finally turned his head, making eye contact with me. He nodded, "That's good."

I cleared my throat, but the guilt continued to stick. He was still upset, "Yeah. They seemed to have enjoyed their trip."

He nodded again, but didn't speak. I sighed, putting the menu down on the table. Instead I grabbed a napkin and began tearing it up, a habit I had picked up from him.

"Is that why it took you so long to call me back?"

And there it was. In his carefully controlled tone, he had finally called me out on the reason he would barely look at me. We weren't romantically involved. We were just friends. I had no reason to react so strongly to his decision to go to Hong Kong. And we had only known each other for five weeks. It wasn't fair of me to act so strangely.

Still, I didn't know what to say. All I knew was that I didn't want to talk about Hong Kong. "I've been busy today."

"Doing what?" he countered. His quiet voice was almost worse than if he was yelling at me. I dropped my eyes, setting the now torn apart napkin aside to reach for another. If I had been thinking rationally, I would have questioned his demand to pry into my personal life. What I was doing today was really none of his business. But for some reason, I had an insane urge to explain myself to him if even to take a little of the guilt off of me.

"Lots of things. I had a doctor's appointment."

Instantly, his entire demeanor changed. He sat forward in his seat, all hostility melting from his face. Instead I saw was concern. The sudden shift startled me and I looked back up at him, surprise in my eyes.

"Why?" he demanded to know. His hand slid across the table taking mine in a strong grip, "is everything okay?"

For a minute, I was confused. Then it hit me; doctor's appointments never meant anything good for him. Especially not now since the last appointment his mother went to was the one that forced him over the edge. I reached out with my other hand, placing it over the two of ours.

"Taeyeon, I'm fine," I said gently. "It was just a routine physical."

His eyes searched mine, seeking the truth. When he was positive that I had given it, he exhaled deeply and let go of me, sitting back against his seat. I put my hands back on my lap watching him run a hand through his hair.

"Sorry," he sighed. "I'm just not a big fan of doctors."

"That's understandable."

A waitress came over and took our orders. We both remained silent as we waited for our food. His question was still in the air between us. I had answered him, but it was a half-assed answer and we both knew it. I just didn't know what else to say. I couldn't very well tell him that I needed time to compose myself after discovering that he was leaving. That would be weird for two friends that had only just started hanging out a little over a month ago. Unfortunately, every other answer but that one would be a lie.

Finally, I fell back to my default, "I'm sorry about your mom."

Immediately, Taeyeon's eyes emptied until he looked hollow. He shrugged, looking back out the window. "Nothing I can do."

He was right; there was nothing anyone could do. Chemo was rough no matter who you were. I had never personally known anyone who had to undergo it, but I had done enough projects in school to know a lot about it. Still, I wished there was some way to ease her pain, if only to make Taeyeon happier. I already knew how badly this round of cancer was affecting him. Surely seeing his mother in any sort of pain was really grating on him.

Yet another reason for me to hate myself for waiting so long to talk to him. "I'm sorry," I said in a hushed voice. I meant it for more than just his mother. I knew he could tell.

He turned his head to look at me, his gaze piercing. I was once again struck by how serious he had become over the last week. I had seen him transform from a sweet, mischievous boy to a sullen, conscientious man. I missed the old Taeyeon, but I knew there was a good chance I wouldn't see him again for a while, if ever. He had things to worry about now; decisions to make that depended on more than whatever he was feeling at the time.

It had been such a short amount of time. Only a little more than a month since he saved me from that party and we started hanging out. It was hard to believe that such a complete transformation could happen so fast. I just wished that there was some way to make him smile again. Of course, it wasn't that he didn't smile. He still smiled all the time. There just wasn't any joy in it anymore. Behind each grin was a frown because even one small moment of happiness was overshadowed when thoughts of his mother's sickness invaded.

I already tried to help. In my own way, I tried to do what I could. I still wasn't sure that I had done any good, but I did try. Maybe that had become part of the problem, too. The change did have something to do with me. After having the way we did, it was close to impossible to just go back to the way things were. Even though we weren't at each other's throats and constantly trying to rip off clothes, there was still something there brewing in the undercurrents of each conversation. I wasn't sure if it was a desire to do it again, though I could admit that there had been times when I found myself looking at him in a way that made my blood heat. More than once, I had caught him looking at me the same way.

Honestly, that was only natural. We were both teenagers, even though Taeyeon was closer to twenty than I was. And with him had been unlike anything I had ever expected. I couldn't help but let my mind drift to it every now and then. It was a big deal, especially for me. They say that a girl will always remember her first. I had no doubts at all about that.

The most remarkable part about it was that I was doing it out of some crazy selfless desire to make him feel better, yet he turned out to be the more giving of us both. Even as I watched his fingers curl around the napkin of silverware, I remembered how gently they had touched me and how quickly they sparked a fire in my body that I hadn't even known was smoldering. And of course, there were other memories. Memories that I would cherish forever of the more... intimate things he had done without any sort of prompting from me. In that simple act, he had revealed to me his propensity to give. He had proven that it was he who was truly selfless.

"What?" his deep voice startled me from