Both Mr. Hayes and I turned to see Missy standing there with a tear streaming down her cheek. I felt my heart lurch into my throat. I didn't have a cl...e what to say.Mr. Hayes was smooth. "Good morning, Miss Harmon. To what do I owe the pleasure? You've never been early to my class."Missy brushed the tear off her cheek. "I came for the same reason John did. I wanted to know why Sonnet 91. I was sure it was John who picked it out. He took four pages to write what Shakespeare wrote in those few. He was a nice boy, 21 years old and the manager of the fruit stand I worked at. He was taking classes at the local community college trying to get on his feet after he had nearly ruined his life with drugs. His smile was haunted, revealing a vulnerable side that matched my own. We were two broken dolls trying to fix ourselves and our union seemed almost ironic. I enjoyed his company and listened intently to his stories. We werent boyfriend and girlfriend, we both understood that my short stay. More

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