“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” he mused, dark eyes tracking a monorail as it left the station. “But the thing is: I learned early on that you can’t rely on anyone.” He said it casually, with the air of someone who’d been raised in the world and knew all of its people and places inside and out. “If you can’t rely on anyone, who do you trust? How can you live?” I asked. “See you make it sound like you have to have trust to make any kind of way in the world,” he countered thoughtfully, “but I’m living proof that you don’t. Trust me, friends are a waste of time.” I sat there in silence for a few minutes, trying to think of a way to convince him that friends were worth it. That _people_ were worth it. I cleared my throat. “So with that mindset…you can never date, never get married, never have someone to confide in. You’ll never really _care_ about anyone.” He finally turned to look at me, and I felt like he could see straight into my soul. I stared back, eyes flashing. “Why can’t you let people in?” I asked. _Why can’t you let _**me**_ in?_ “Letting people in gets you hurt.” We fell silent again and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I turned towards the track where another train was pulling in, blinking furiously and curling my fingers into the sleeves of my hoodie. “Can I ask you something?” He said, and I nodded without looking at him. “Why does it matter? Why do you care so much?” “Because I care about _you_. You matter.” It was a quick response. But it was the truth. I looked over at him and saw that he was staring at my lap. I looked down and realized I was picking at my nail beds again. It was an old habit and I’d been fighting hard to break it but it seemed to happen without me realizing. Now I squeezed my hands together tightly, letting out a little sigh. I could preach at others about their problems it seemed, but when it came to handling my own I was lost. Shame coursed through me and I felt my cheeks heat. A fresh tear dripped onto my leg. Slowly he reached over and put his hand over the two of mine. I looked up at him in surprise. “Don’t cry.” That only made me cry harder, and I pulled my hands away to cover my face. He let me be for a while, but then I heard him shifting on the bench and an arm wrapped gently around my shoulders. I turned and hugged him, and after a moment he returned it. “No one has it all together,” he whispered into my hair, “we all have our problems.” “But it’s easier if you have someone to help you,” I said hesitantly, half afraid he would push me away. I felt him take a deep breath, and then he tightened his grip around me. “I’ll try if you will.” I smiled, and all at once the tears that slipped down my cheeks were happy ones.