I needed my best friend. I needed someone to talk to so desperately that it was making me anxious to keep everything inside. Why did she have to go on a tour of Europe? And why did this have to have been the most interesting summer of my entire life?

Before, when Taeyeon and I were just becoming friends it was a strain to keep all of it to myself and not have anyone to hash everything out with. It wasn't easy, but it still wasn't impossible. But now... now I thought that there was a good chance that I might go crazy if I couldn't talk to someone. Unfortunately, there was no one I would talk to about any of it besides Tiffany. I just wished she would stay somewhere long enough for me to get one letter to her. That was all I needed. In one letter, I could tell her everything that had happened. I could easily write a letter that described everything, including how frantic I was. Of course the letter would probably span over a couple of pages, but that was okay. For the things I needed to say, there was no way I would be able to get by with only one or two pages.

If I could send her one letter, then she would be able to respond. Maybe she would call me completely insane. Maybe she would laugh at me for having a mental breakdown. I could already see her rolling her eyes and telling me that I was over thinking things like I always did. At least, maybe she would say that about the friendship. When it came to the , I wasn't sure what approach she would take.

She knew how serious was to me. We had had many a late night chat about how I felt. She had told me I was stupid about a million times. "Why don't you just do it?" she would always say, laughing at the way I scrunched my face at the suggestion. She had never made it a secret that she was ually active. I didn't fault her for it; in fact I was impressed with how easily she was able to juggle the pressure. Or maybe I was imagining the pressure all along.

Tiffany was the kind of girl that most of the boys wanted. She was beautiful, but in a unique way. Her bubbly attitude made her very approachable and she was quick on her feet; she always had something to say for everything. In fact, I couldn't think of a time that she had ever been socially awkward. I couldn't figure out how she did it. It was a talent that I envied greatly, but she was my best friend so all I could do was grin and bear it, and even grudgingly respect it.

She tried to tell me about once. She said that it wasn't a big deal and that when she did it, there wasn't a lot of thought involved at all. If she found someone she liked and that respected her, if was the next step in their relationship then it wasn't a step that she was afraid to take. She's also extremely confident in herself which is probably another reason why all of the boys always love her.

Still, when she tried to describe it to me I plugged my ears. The last thing that I wanted to hear was her personal experiences. To me, was a very unique experience for each person. I would much rather have done it myself without any bias than try and live vicariously through my best friend and then be disappointed when I finally got around to finding someone special to experience it with.

At least, that was my initial plan. Clearly, it hadn't necessarily gone that way and I was still having a hard time coping with that.

It was two days before I saw him again. That was about how long it took for me to mentally calm myself enough to be rational about the entire situation. That couple of days were simply a combination of dull, throbbing pain that was both physical and mental. Half of the time, I berated myself for what I did. I questioned my sanity. I choked back tears of regret. I got angry at myself. The other half was spent daydreaming about it. Memorizing every detail... the drugging kisses, each filling ... things that I shouldn't have been dwelling on if I wanted to get anything done. Unfortunately, Taeyeon chose the moment when I had finally managed to come to terms with what we had done to show up at my house. He always had horrible timing.

"Taeyeon," I said with surprise when I opened my door that Tuesday afternoon. He smiled at me, but it was off center and he was avoiding my eye. I stood back from the door, "Come in."

He followed me into the kitchen and then stood there awkwardly, staring at the table. It took me a moment to realize when the last time he had seen that table was... what he had been doing... but when I did I blushed and went to the sink, getting myself a glass of water. I debated about turning on a light, but figured that it wasn't necessary. There was enough natural light filtering in through all of the windows of the house. After the storm, the weather had returned back to its normal, burning hot sunny self.

"How's your mom?" I asked, my back still to him. I heard him pull a chair back and sit in it heavily and then I heard a sigh. When I turned to face him, his eyes were downcast and he slumped in the chair.

"Uh... she's okay. She starts chemo in a couple of days."

Instantly, the sympathy welled up in me and I walked over to the table and sat down beside him, setting the glass of water down. "I'm so sorry, Taeyeon."

He nodded slowly and all I could think about was how completely defeated he looked. All the fight was gone. The smile I had learned to appreciate was gone. He simply wasn't the same Taeyeon that I had met five weeks ago. "She'll be fine."

"Of course," I agreed quickly. As we sat there in silence, I studied him. He had dark circles under his eyes and his entire demeanor just seemed off. In 48 hours, he had transformed into a serious young man. I didn't like his transformation. At the same time, I didn't know what to do. I had already tried one thing... the thought made me blush again and I cleared my throat self-consciously, turning my face so he wouldn't see me.

I was surprised to feel his fingers on my chin, gently turning me back to face him. "I didn't come here to talk about my mother, Sica," he said softly. This time, he could see the crimson flush that filled my cheeks. He didn't say anything about it, but I could see an emotion that I didn't like in his expression. We held eye contact for a long moment before I turned my head just enough to break his hold on me. He sighed again, "Sica, please."

"It's nothing, Tae." I said firmly, cutting him off before he could say something we both would regret.

"No," he asserted and his tone left no room for argument. "It's definitely something."

Now it was my turn to sigh, "Taeyeon." I rose from my seat and went back to the sink, my fingers moving anxiously over the dishtowel hanging from the faucet. This wasn't something I wanted to talk about. As a matter of fact, I would be much happier if we completely forgot about it. Or at least didn't ever talk about it. But even in his distraught state, Taeyeon was too much of a gentleman to ever pull a move like that. I heard the legs of the chair scratching against the linoleum floor and suddenly I could feel his heat behind me.

"Sica, I'm sorry," he whispered. I swallowed hard, my nails digging into my palms. This was exactly what I didn't want. I turned around to face him.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for."

I tried to leave the kitchen and abandon the entire conversation, but he wouldn't let me. He was persistent, following closely at my heels as I entered the living room. "There's no excuse for what I did."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

His hand landed hard on my shoulder, forcing me to stop in mid-stride and turn around, facing him once again. He clenched his jaw and stared at me as though bracing against whatever he was going to say. All I knew was that I didn't want to hear it. He didn't care, "I took your ity, Sica."

"No," I shook my head hard against his attempts to tear himself down, "no; you didn't take anything from me. I gave that to you." Shaking from his grip, I continued on to the couch, my fingers g