A clang rings through the air as an empty soda can is flung at the wall. The culprit is a young boy seated on the weathered steps of an old building. His unruly locks cover his matching brown eyes, hiding the tears building up.

“Isn’t a little late to be crying?”

He doesn’t even raise his head to acknowledge the voice, not even surprised by the newcomer.

Footsteps thud across the pavement, coming close enough that he can see with his peripheral vision. They come to a stop next to him, and next they shift as the girl sinks down beside him on the stairs.

He finally speaks up, the quiet voice sounding deafening in the silence. “Is it ever too late to cry?”

A soft chuckle follows, sounding more sarcastic than amused. “Yeah, I put a limit around, say 3 in the morning. It gives you just about the right amount of time to cry yourself to sleep. Right now,” she checks her watch, making a funny face, “It is 4:11 am, which is about an hour past my limit.”

“So, whats got your knickers in a twist 2 hours before we gotta wake up for school?” she asks, turning to smile at him as she leans back on her hands.

“Just shut up. Leave me alone.” He turns his face into his hand, willing the tears not to drop.

“No can do Mr. Lonely. I woke up way too early for you not to give me an answer.”

The silence resumes.

“Is it Claire?”

He curls into himself, hiding his head in his arms which rest upon his knees. Unbeknownst to him, she watches, her fake smile gone and replaced with the saddest look as she gazes upon the boy she cares about most.

“She broke up with you, huh?”

“Shut up.” Comes the muffled reply. “If you’re just gonna rub it in my face, then leave.”

“You could get someone better anyways.”

He raises his head and glares at her. “What like you? She was a million times better. No one’s like her, and no one would ever love me like she did.”

The girl shows no reaction, her smile back on and the quiver of her hands so slight, it’s unnoticeable. A whisper leaves her lips, carried away by the wind so he would not hear.

A second passes and then two, and she finally says, “No, but do you need someone to be happy?”

He opens his mouth to respond and then pauses, confused by her words.

She continues, “You are you and Claire is someone all on her own. If God thought we needed someone else to be happy, he would have gave us someone else.”

“Me and myself are enough for I. Although I do break sometimes, I only need to put myself back together with my own hands.”

He stared at her, unimpressed. “What? Did you steal that from the internet? You’re so weird. I really can’t stand you sometimes.”

“Then why are you still listening to me?”

“You’re right. Bye, weirdo.”

She watches him go and gets ready to put herself back together again. “Bye, Luca.”

The whisper travels through the wind, and through the wind it echoes, “But I could love you the way you deserved.”