In the gym lit by large overhead flurouscent lighting she sat. Many of the lights above lie dormant – disabled by the occasionally rogue – and often intentionally – football or kickball. Between the support columns she rested her back against the white sheet metal structure of the walls.

Head tilted downward into arms – she cried silently. Suffering alone, surrounded by strangers sitting on fray-carpeted concrete floors.

On the other side of the gymnasium, opposite the other side of the basketball court sized rubber floor sat a boy. He lounged rebeliously on a hastily constructed wooden bench. Feet crossed, slouching, elbows on his knees at times. Across the gymnasium – his gazed fixed on the girl.

Should I? He considered. A second glance around – no one else paying attention to her. The walkers walked by without a stray look, no one seemed to care. It wasn’t like him to approach someone to console them – not within his nature or personality. Yet she seemed so vulnerable. And he could help.

With a single-minded determination he rouse from a slouch into a stride across the rubber-expanse. Not too quickly, but with purpose. Slowly enough to not be noticied by anyone watching. Awkwardly approaching, he sat down on the floor near the girl. Not too close to make her uncomfortable, yet close enough for her to know he was there.

“Are you ok?” he asked. The answer was obvious. She wasn’t ok. But how else do you approach someone?

“Yeah”

“I don’t think you are. Do you want to talk?” he asked.

“I guess if you want”

He asked her to walk with him. Together they circled about, as he listened. She missed her boyfriend. She missed her friends.

He missed no one. He found her.