"Yeah, I know." Sitting up, I tossed the ball I'd been playing around with on the mattress and went to her. "I remember."

Scrunching her nose up, Molly flipped through the pages until stopping on a particular page. "Dude," she groaned, nose wrinkling in disgust. "If I was a star, I'd shine just for you. If I was flower, I'd bloom just for you. If I was winter, I'd become Spring just for you. Because I love you. It's true. Say you love me too…" Shaking her head, she closed the notebook and tossed it back in the box before saying, "Wow, eight-year-old me sucked ass at poetry."

"Actually, eight-year-old you was pretty damn sweet," I reminded her, coming to sit on the floor beside her.

"Ugh." She groaned in embarrassment. "Could I have been any more transparent back then?"

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Shaking her head, she closed the lid on the box and offered me a bright smile. "Thank you for bringing this over. I don't have any pictures from before the fire." She swallowed deeply. "We lost all of our memories that night."

Pain settled hard on my chest. "Molls…"

"It's okay." Another forced smile. "It's all good, D."

It wasn't okay.

She wasn't okay.

That night continued to haunt her and it broke my damn heart because I couldn't pull her out of her own mind. I couldn't break through that window. I was helpless and stuck on the outside of that particular window.

"To be honest, I'm surprised you kept any of this stuff."

"Why wouldn't I keep it?"

"Because you erased me," she reminded me.

I stiffened. "I didn't erase you."

"No, you didn't erase me and I didn't wear your trust around my neck until it hung me," she shot back and then flushed bright red. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"Yeah, you did."

"Okay," she conceded with a blush. "Maybe I did, but it was shitty."

"Yeah." I shrugged. "Well, my behavior's been more than shitty at times."

She smirked. "True."

"Let's have a little fun with that iPod of yours," I said then, desperate to ease the tension and put the smile back on her face. "I'm gonna give you a song."

"Huh?" Confusion swept across her pretty features. "A song?"

"That's right." Snagging her iPod off the nightstand, I quickly returned to her. "I'm gonna pick a song that reminds me of you and then you're going to do the same," I explained, flicking through her iPod until I found the perfect song to penetrate her walls. "Here –" Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl drifted from the little speaker on her nightstand, "This one's perfect for you."

Molly grinned. "Real cute, D. Is this the part where I'm supposed to swoon?" Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the iPod from me. "Now this one is perfect for you."

With that, The Script's Hall of Fame blasted from the speaker.

I sat on her bedroom floor and listened carefully to the lyrics she had chosen for me. Did she really think this about me? A shiver racked through my body as I absorbed the lyrics. Did she have that kind of belief in my ability to make a future for myself?