I can't…help it.

These feelings…I shouldn't be feeling them.

And it's not just that it's not right, it's just…not right!

Piper twirled the pencil in her hand, staring absently at the blank paper in front of her. She'd had the intention of writing the days events in the Log Book or perhaps writing an entry in her diary. Both books sat closed beside her; a scrap paper unthinkingly grabbed instead. But she couldn't do it. Her mind had started to wander, and these thoughts…were too…dangerous to write down.

Someone told me once, the purpose of-

But when I see and hear the other, the normal girls in the Terra markets…

I have to wonder, 'Am I so different? If I wasn't a Storm Hawk, would I too be-'

She reaches into a cubby at the side of her desk, pulls out a dictionary,

Date: 1) A small, sweet brown fruit…2) Have existed from a particular time…

3) An appointment to meet someone, especially from the opposite gender

But it doesn't define 'dating.' She knows what it is, a smart girl like that, but dictionaries do help.

Dating: Purpose: to find someone of the opposite gender to spend the rest of ones life with.

…I'm only 14; I'm too young to start dating.

But lately…I've been lonely.

And not the kind of lonely, empty feeling that friends can take away, it's…different.

And I like him, as more than just a friend.

But how can I tell him?

Should I tell him?

Piper blinked her tears back. She needed help, a mother's help. She didn't know what to do. But she was an orphan. And even if she had a mother, could she tell her?

I like him, more than friends, different from a brother.

But I can't do anything about it.

I like the way he looks, so I stare sometimes.

I like the way he makes me feel, so I smile and laugh.

I like the way he acts, so stick around him.

Now what?

She wraps her arms around herself, starts rocking slowly back and forth on her chair. The tears come, spilling over her cheeks and dripping noiselessly onto the crinkled old paper. She sniffs and tries to stop the tears. Crying doesn't do anything but give you headache, she tells herself. But she can't help it, she feels so alone. She realizes that the pencil still clutched in her hand is digging into her arm, and she drops her arms back to her sides. Her arms are cold where she'd been holding on.

I…need…someone.

It's not that I'm the only girl. I felt it still when Lar- when Cyclonis was here.

It's a different kind of need.

I see the girls in the marketplaces, clinging to their boyfriends, faces stuck together at the lips…

That's not what I want.

I just want someone…I don't know.

I don't know.

She tries not to think for a minute. The crying has stopped. She tries to analyze all the feelings and thoughts spinning around in her head.

I…want…

I want…someone…

I need someone to hold me.

I want someone who isn't afraid to get close to me, and that I'm not afraid to have close; someone to care about me, like a father and a brother, but different.

I want someone to hold me.

Sometimes, when she sees the other girls, she can feel his arms around her, holding her close, protecting, loving, caring for her. But whose arms she isn't sure. Aerrow's she wants.

But he doesn't know how I feel.

I don't think he cares the same way about me.

He's a guy, always being reckless, and fun, and…not a girl.

He doesn't think like I do. He thinks with his head (sometimes) but not with his heart. And if he does, it's not as often.

What do I do?

And the tears come back, she starts sobbing, trying desperately to hold them back, but the empty feeling grows when she realizes again that she has nobody to help her with this; she is overwhelmed, sinking farther from rational thought and deeper into the hollow, physical numbness of crying.

I haven't cried in a long time.

I'm supposed to be strong.

I'm a Storm Hawk.

I'm a girl…it's just like I told Cyclonis; a lonely girl who desperately needs a friend.

But even Lark couldn't help me with this.

I need…him.

I need him!

She gets up from her chair, stumbles over to her radio, the tears blinding her. She has a frequency preprogrammed in, for times of emergencies. For times like now. Her sobbing drowns out the static, but she hears the click as the radio microphone is lifted out of its cradle,

"Hello?"

"Starling" she chokes out.

"Piper? What is it? What's happened?"

"Starling…I need you. Please help me. I can't…I need…"

"I think I understand. I'll be there as soon as possible."