Everything.

Amanda called me in the morning.

Barely awake from my late shift the night before, I scrambled across my bed in search of the ringing cell phone, clawing through the layers of blankets, sheets and pillows until I located the lit up screen and held it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Rebecca..." Amanda sighed at last, I could imagine her pacing and ruffling her hair.

"What's up? Are you okay?"

"I guess so... Guess I just needed to tell you, I'm going out of town for the week. I just need to clear my head. I'm going with my parents up to Virginia for a while."

It came as a surprise to me. "Oh... Just for the week?" I asked, unable to keep the sad tone from seeping into my voice.

"Yeah... I'll be back Sunday, Ben's dad should be out of the hospital, and maybe we can try to sort some stuff out."

"Not to sound like the bitch here... But I thought you told him to fuck off and that you were over him?" I asked curiously, yawning as I sat up straighter and checked the clock to see if it was late enough to get up and begin my day.

"I know, I know," She laughed for the first time with some real emotion "I just don't want to see it all go to waste. I'll check into it, and if he says it's over, then it's over. And I'll be okay, just a little broken up for a while, probably."

"I'm sorry." I murmured. Never in my life, had I experienced the pain of a break up. Just my Dad, that was the worst love related pain I'd ever been faced with. I wouldn't wish it on anyone else, not even my greatest enemy.

"That's alright, Rebecca. I was wondering if we could hang out here in a bit, if you're busy, that's fine, too."

I looked around my stuffy apartment, it'd do me some good to go out, actually. "I worked the night shift last night, so I get the day off. Want to meet up at the boardwalk or soemthing?"

"At the lake?"

"Yeah. Looks like it's gonna be warm today."

She laughed. "You sap, it's Georgia, it's hot every day."

"I know." I laughed. "I'll see you there in an hour."

"Okay, bye."

I dropped the phone onto the mattress and dropped my head into my hands as I caught up to myself slowly. The day upon me, so little sleep electrifying my veins, but still... The second I thought of last night, my heart went sailing against my ribs and I could feel my face lighting up. I scrambled out of bed and grabbed yesterday's pair of jeans and rifled through the pockets to be sure it was real. I produced the small, neatly folding yellow sticky note with his numbers on it, and held it firmly.

Being as inexperienced as I was, I wasn't sure when was a good time to call him. In the day time? He might be filming or busy. Well, he usually drops by around eleven, maybe that's when he's off work, maybe he works all day. I fiddled with the corner of the paper until a firm crease was bent into it, and I chewed my lip. Maybe I should leave him a message so he knows who the hell's calling, and he'll actually pick up when he's not busy. But... Maybe that'll pin me for desperate and not at all the friendzone I'd prefer staying in.

I fed the animals, played with them for a while, checked email, and then dragged myself off to the bedroom to finally get dressed. I threw on some denim cut off shorts and a Green Day shirt from the Warning era, tied on my Chucks, and headed out. Mr. Unise greeted me as I bounced out of the stairwell into the the area behind the counter. I smiled back, and headed outside onto the sidewalk.

The sun beat down, though it was only eleven-thirty, reflecting off the concrete, bleaching it white. I moved west, following the sidewalk around the building to the unpaved, ungraveled employee parking lot. Where there were more pot holes and puddles than actual parking spots. I manuvered around them carefully and got to my car, unlocking the driver's side door and hopping in.

I turned on the radio, rolled down the windows to air out the suffocatingly humid air, and backed out, heading for busy-as-ever main street, which would bring me down to Jefferson lake a few miles outside town. It was the closest thing for miles around to an ocean.

I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of a song that was vaugely familiar. Most of the shit that's on the radio these days wasn't worth the listen. Rap about big asses, getting laid and one-night drunken stands? I'm good... There were a few new artists I could tolerate, and even a few songs out there that I liked, but other than that, it was uncharted territory and was to be avoided at all costs.

Atlanta was as busy as you'd imagine it to be. The capitol of lovely Georgia, was full of people. Either vacationing, working, visiting, or a ton of fans milling around hoping to catch a glimpse of the cast of The Walking Dead emerging from a hotel or cafe. I've heard there's quite a few actors who live here, too. Though I've never encountered any of them, knowing of their presence almost made you feel privledged.

It was almost twelve when I got to the lake, pulling into the crowded parking lot made me miss the trips to the lakes in Montana when I was a kid. When there was maybe one or two other people around, out fishing in a boat, or walking the shore. Peace and quiet, nothing but you and the tide, rising over the smooth, round rainbow rocks.

Here... You had to watch your every step not to walk on a broken bottle in the sand, or accidently trample someone's picnic, because sometimes the actual beach space was so limited due to flooding or rising water levels, that everyone had to cram together on the avaliable sand, leaving very little walk ways.

I could hear children screaming by the beach before I'd even gotten out of my car. I looked up for a moment to watch a boy in orange swim trunks chase a slightly older girl with algae on a stick.

I grabbed my phone from the passenger seat and shoved it into my pocket, slamming my car door and locking up before heading towards the boardwalk down around the lake. There were a few souvenier shops around, even a few snack and bait shops, but nothing major. Your standard lake-side beach stores.

Sand crunched under my shoes as I walked, cutting across the busy beach to the wooden walkway, trying my hardest not to get side-swiped by a frisbee or foam football. Shirtless guys leapt through the air, chasing balls or plastic discs, shouting in defeat of success, tackling each other like a bunch of toddlers, wrestling in the sand. I just walked faster.

I ducked in the nick of time to avoid a neon yellow flying saucer that zoomed out of nowhere, grazing the top of my head before clattering against the rock wall to my left.

"Hey, miss, I'm sorry!"

I looked over my shoulder at a boy, looked like a collage student, was running towards me. He looked apologetic enough, but I caught the quick sweep of his eyes and resisted the urge to call him out on it, or get mad that he'd hit me to get my attention.

"It's fine." I replied in a murmur, and kept moving before he could squeeze in another word, trying to get out of the war zone.

I spotted Amanda when I got closer, standing barefoot at the water's edge, in white shorts and a navy blue tank top with weathered white stars on it. She wore black sunglasses, and her shoulder length bronze hair blew behind her in the briney wind.

"Amanda!" I called out over the chaos as I got closer, she turned around, spotted me and waved, before turning back to the view. There were a lot of boaters out today, people tubing, some trying to snorkle, some fishers on the docks, too. Lots of water activity.

"Hey, Rebecca." She greeted me when I got close enough to stand beside her, I looked out at the rolling green water in silence for a moment. "Beautiful day." I commented, she nodded in agreement.

"Just what I needed..." She pushed stray strands of hair off her forehead, and continued to look out at the water with a vacant expression. She'd knew Ben as long as I'd known her, and began dating him a week or so later. I'd lived in Atlanta almost a year now, but I really couldn't scratch the surface for how far back their friendship goes. To abruptly lose your best friend like that, it couldn't be easy.

"I'm really sorry..." I murmured at last. "I don't understand what you're going through, if I'm being honest. Death loss and love loss are two different kinds of pain, but I'm sure they hurt just as much."

She frowned and I realized my mistake.

"Sorry.. Sorry... Not what you want to hear right now." I grimaced, looking down.

"Not particuarly, no." She replied with a smirk, slapping my hand. "C'mon, enough of the heavy. Let's get something to drink and talk."

We headed up to the line of shops above the beach on the rocky edge near the parking lot. We walked side by side in silence, while I tried to think up something to tell her that did not involve fictional Mark. She seemed to be in relevtively high spirits, a spark to her step as we moved, but it felt like something was weighing down each of her words.

"So..." Amanda began when she had an ice cold Coke in her hand, and we were making our way towards the picnic tables near the railing.

I looked up at her in encouragement to continue.

"You ever hear anything else from that Mark fellow?" She asked slyly, trying to be nonchalant, but I could tell it was eating away at her, she wanted some drama that wasn't hers.

I pressed my lips into a line, feeling my cheeks light up because she had remembered his name. But, to be fair, I had all but yelled it at her the night I'd seen him in that cafe, excitement had overwhelmed me, and I'd forgotten how many self-applied lines I was crossing. I must have come off real desperate, or something...

We sat down, Amanda purposefully sitting across from me so I could hide nothing. She was good like that, knew me well enough to know I'd lie if she couldn't see my face to catch it. I sighed in defeat.

"Yeah, actually, last night."

"Ooh, do tell!"

I narrowed my eyes in amusement at her how she talked like some Hollywood drama craver. "He dropped by work last night." I clarified nonchalantly.

"To see you?" I could hear the hysteria in her voice as she was trying to pick apart the story, trying to make it fit into whatever fantasy she'd already gone and formed in her head.

I shook my head, "To wash a shirt, you're a real nosey one, you know that, right?" I laughed, trying my best to distract her away from prodding for more details. Her face fell, not because of my insult, but because of my answer, apparently just wanting to was a shirt wasn't close enough to those romance novels she bought at the grocery store sometimes in the magazine aisle.

"So he was shirtless?" She squealed with excitement, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise, startled by the abrupt turn her strange thoughts had taken.

"No... In fact, I couldn't see much more than his hands, forehead and chin." I told her dissmissively, but it didn't stop the wave of annoyance from coming back. Secretive shit...

"What? Why?" She wondered in confusion, twisting the cap of her Coke and downing a quarter in a gulp. I simply watched her do it, and wondered where she put it all, shaking my head to clear it and get the story straight.

"Ever since I met him, he always wears a hoodie and sunglasses, told me some shit about it being for my own good." I chuckled darkly at the memory. "I don't know, did I ever tell you he's an actor?"

Her eyes got real big, and before I knew it, she held my shoulders firmly and shook my back and fourth like a crazy person. "Rebecca Allen Louise Jessop Johnson, did you not think it was important to tell me that you're dating an actor? What if... He like, knows Steven Yeun or something? You'd be holding out on me." She deflated back into her seat, and I glanced down at my shoulder, lifting the black sleeve to see the five white pads embedded, the shape of where her fingers had crushed the blood our of my skin.

"Didn't come up..." I mumbled in defense, and she shot me a glare. "Uh huh... So where does he work?"

"I don't know." I replied honestly.

"Did he tell you about past jobs?"

"No..."

"Who he works with?"

"No."

She threw her hands up in exasperation, "It's like you don't know him at all!" She whined.

If we were being square, I didn't. I couldn't have told her much else about him right then other than the fact that he loved punk music, was fond of Ray Bans, and had a desire to come to Whirlies over every other Laundromat in Atlanta. Other than that, he was just a regular old customer who happened to be a possibly famous actor whose number I possessed.

Amanda crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at me as though trying to crack me. "So... What did he say last night?"

"We argued." I admitted in a neutral tone, playing with my bottle cap on the splintering wood table top of the picnic bench.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Great first move, there." She replied sarcastically.

"I wanted to know who he was..." I replied with a shrug, keeping my eyes down, "He was treating me like a kid, and I was getting pissed..."

"So you laid into each other?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. I slapped her arm, "It wasn't like that... He wasn't yelling at me, he was keeping his cool, but being a snide ass in the progress..." I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all.

"And then... He gave me his number, said I couldn't know anything else about him, really, but to give him a call."

"That's confusing..." She sighed, leaning backwards while stretching. "Talk about playing hard to get, hey, I thought that was a girls-only thing?"

I sighed, "I thought so, too." I laughed.