To this day, I can't tell you why I looked out that window. But when I saw her standing there, somehow I knew *neither* of us would ever be the same. I'm the last person in town to see her alive. And I don't know how I feel about that. I really don't.
When she left town, she killed the dreams of every boy whoever knew who she was. Even if they were little dreams, like catching a whiff of her perfume, or tasting a piece of her gum. Or even, may be one day, that she would know ...