She tells him how she feels.

"You're... you're such a dumbass," she muttered softly. "You're such a gigantic dumbass."

Now that's the Amy I know.

I was half expecting her to tear into me like before, but instead she took a deep breath and spoke in a slow steady voice.

"I don't... I don't care who you fuck around with. It's none of my business. And what, you thought I didn't know you fantasized about me? About all of us? That's normal. You're not the only one who..."

She trailed off for a second, a slight color to her cheeks.

"You may be an idiot, but you're hardly a fuck-up. Why do you think Stephanie still looks at you the way she does even though she's with Simon? She wants your approval because she still cares about you. Talia... she needed to discover herself, and you helped her do that. Heck, you even set her up with Rachel. As for Corrine... well, I guess she just really needed to get laid."

I couldn't help but chuckle softly at that last remark, and was happy to hear her do so as well. I chanced a sideways glance, but she still refused to look at me, her face as hard-set and serious as ever.

"My point is... you didn't fuck up anything with any of them. You gave them what they needed, like the friend that you are. As for me... as for me, you... you didn't fuck up anything. I'm the one who did that, because..."

She fought back a sob before continuing.

"Because you're such an amazing friend. You... you're literally the best man I've ever known. You'd rather let six guys kick the crap out of you than do something that you thought would betray our trust. You're... you're all of that... and I fucked it up... because you're right, I don't let guys get close to me... but I let you in... and I broke your heart... because that's what I do. I'm a-"

"Stop it," I said sharply, cutting her off. "Stop talking about yourself like that."

"Why?" she asked, her chin resting on her chest. "The truth is supposed to hurt, right?"

"But it's not true. Amy, I don't know what happened that made you feel this way, but-"

"My mom left us because my dad cheated on her."

I was taken aback by her sudden outburst, turning my head to look at her. One of her hands, still buried in her sleeve, was now clamped over her mouth as though she couldn't believe that she's actually said the words aloud, her wide wet eyes staring ahead out the windshield. I'd wondered before why her mom wasn't in the picture, but hadn't drummed up the courage to ask. That, and it was really none of my business in the first place.

With tears welling up, she continued to speak.

"I was... I was ten when it happened. Back then, I... didn't really understand what was going on. I knew something was wrong with them...the way they weren't talking. Then one day, this woman shows up looking for my dad while he was at work and... and she and my mom got into a huge fight. They wrecked half the house before he got home... I can... I can still see the look on his face when he walked in the door. When it was all over, my mom, she... she packed up her stuff and... and..."

She screwed her eyes shut, tears rolling down her face as her voice began to crack.

"She didn't... she didn't even look at me, she never... never said good bye. She didn't fight for custody or... she just left me..."

She took a moment to inhale deeply, wiping her tears with her sleeves.

"When... when he tried to explain it to me, all I knew was that it was something that he did, and... and I hated him for it. No matter what he did to try to make it up to me, no matter how many times he came to cheer me on at sporting events, I could never forget how... how terrible I felt when my mom left us... because of him."

She finally turned to look at me for the first time, and despite the tears, despite the pain and sorrow in her voice, I couldn't help but notice how incredibly beautiful she looked in that moment. It was as if in bearing her soul to me, the real Amy was shining through for the first time, unburdened by her personal demons.

"That's... that's why I never let guys get too close to me. I can... I can clearly see the appeal of sex, and I get a lot out of it, but...but I don't want to be hurt like that again."

She lifted her hand off of her thigh, trembling as it slowly moved towards my own. I turned my palm face-up to accept it, clutching her hand tightly. It was the first time we had touched each other in over a week, and the contact felt electric.

"When... when I saw your face after...when I saw how badly I'd hurt you, I... I realized that I was really no better, you know? Hurting the people I care about despite how much I swore I'd be different. I did to someone else what had hurt me so terribly... making them feel like they aren't loved, and... and I did it to you, one of my best friends, a guy so absolutely amazing that he'd find some way to make himself the bad guy when the real bad guy is me. So... so nothing you've said about me is true, because at the end of the day, I'm a heartless bitch just... just like my... my moth-"

Unable to finish the word, her shoulders began to shake as the threatening tears finally fell down her face.

Deciding that enough was enough, I shifted in my seat to face her. Picking up on this, she shifted towards me as we clutched each other, her hard body shaking against me with a sob as I felt her hot tears on my cheek. I felt her fingers gripping me tightly, as if she were afraid that this wasn't real and was dreading the thought of letting go.

"I... I'm so, so sorry for hurting you, Ian. I don't deserve a friend like you..."

I felt my own tears falling now, whispering into her ear, "Stop talking like that. You're amazing, Amy. You deserve more than you give yourself credit for. I'm just sorry that all of this happened for you to see it."

I don't know how long we held each other for, but no length of time seemed long enough. There were certain things that you didn't rush, and this was one of them. Eventually the tension leaked from our muscles, and we just sat there with our arms around one another, breathing softly.

"Thank you," she whispered, sitting back slightly while still holding me. "I've... I've never told anyone that before. It felt... it felt good to talk about it."

"I'm your friend, Amy. You can tell me anything."

She was smiling now, her full, genuine smile, and I couldn't help but comment.

"I'm glad you're smiling again, with your real smile. You... you look nice when you do."

She chuckled as I reached up to brush her cheek, wiping back the remnants of her tears. She pressed her cheek into my palm, closing her eyes as she seemingly savored the contact between us.

"I probably look like shit," she said with a smile. "All weepy and girly and gross. Guess that shows how much you mean to me."

"I know what you mean," I replied as she brushed my cheek.

"So... are you and Corrine a thing now?" she asked.

"No, she, um... she doesn't want anything serious before college, so just friends."

"Damn. Sorry to hear that. Batting a thousand, aren't you?"

"I don't really watch football."

Her smile faded as she gave me an incredulous stare. "Baseball. It's a baseball analogy."

"Is it?" I replied with a coy smile.

She scoffed, her smile returning right before she punched me in the arm. "Dork."

I shifted in my seat, for no other reason that to get comfortable, and my knee smacked into the center console. I grunted at the impact, grabbing my aching knee as I clenched my teeth with a hiss of frustration. Her hands were immediately on mine as she asked if I was okay, to which I nodded and said how it was more of a shock than anything else. Apparently the sudden jolt kicked my cassette player on, because we suddenly heard the opening riff of Beast of Burden by the Rolling Stones begin to play.

For a moment we both chuckled as the song started, right until we looked up and locked eyes with one another, all expression draining from our faces as Mick Jagger began to sing:

I'll never be your beast of burden,

My back is broad...but it's a-hurting.

All I want is for you to make love to me.