He was the one you always fancied, the one who was always nice to you and saw talent and beauty in you when you did not. You sit next to him and smile. You don’t want him to see you crying. You’re strong and will get through this. You can’t leave him here. After all he is still alive even though he is in a critical condition. You lean over and begin to pick him up, when you feel something soft as rose petals against your lips. “I love you Tinkerbell, I always have liked you because you are not like the other girls, and you always have been my Tinkerbell” he says.