You weren’t doing well. Maybe it was because of finals, or seasonal depression. You didn’t know. But, it was hitting you now like a freight train. Sitting on your dimly lit room one night, hugging your knees, your cell phone beside you, Clark’s name on the little screen. You didn’t answer.

You couldn’t bring yourself to. You couldn’t let yourself seem weak, not right now.

But then, your window slid open, and Clark hopped in, saying your name softly.