“Annie, “ he started, “what are we doing here?”  Annie didn’t know what they were doing.  Neither did Sean.  He still wanted to ask the question, as if saying it out loud would make the answers come to them both. 
She turned to him.  Smiling like that, she made him nervous.  He did not smile back.  “We’re done.  Haven’t we been for a long time?”  Her smile faded.  She didn’t feel good about what was happening, but she didn’t plan on crying later. 
Sean sighed, “Yeah,” and looked past Annie.
“It’s for the best,” she explained, and began saying things she didn’t mean.  It sounded good when the words she was speaking reached her ears.  Like in a movie.  She continued for some time, and Sean still sat there.  He pulled grass out of the ground.  He knew she wasn’t being sincere.  It wasn’t the first time he had recognized her voice take this tone. 
An older couple walked by the two of them on the path down by the lake.  They sat, Annie saying words and Sean waiting for her blurred voice to cease, up on the hill looking down over the water.  Their school was a minute’s walk away, but it was summer.  They had figured maybe, after everything, they should come back to the spot on the hill, their spot, and talk it through. 
Sean had been optimistic.  School had gotten out.  Annie had seemed like she wanted a fresh start.  But, as he had sat there watching the trees sway in the warm breeze and turned to see her walking over to him from her black Honda, he knew there would be no new start.  She looked pretty in her white shirt and blue shorts, but her face told him more than the words she was crafting up to ease her own conscience ever would. 
When she finished talking, he looked at her, at the face he had made big plans for seeing next to him at movies and museums and concerts.  All of those times together would exist only in his head, never to manifest as tangible days in his life.  He thanked her for the fun they had and walked over to his old truck.  He got in, turned the radio on, and sat for a moment, listening to the party song blaring and looking out at the water.  It was a similar view to the one when he and Annie had been sitting on the hill, talking, for the first time months ago.  He smiled at the memory and drove off.
Annie watched him leave.  She was sure he would be fine.  She was not sure about herself.  She sat back on the grass, pulled out a bottle of small white pills labeled for killing the pain of her mother’s surgery, scooped a couple into her mouth, and closed her eyes as the tears she had never expected to come hit her hard, as nearly everything in her life tended to do now.