Well, that was it. She'd tried to be strong and logical and grown up about this, really she had, but that last bit undid it all.

And, giving up the last of her dignity, she pressed her face into Grady's shoulder and began to cry.

There was still a part of her fretting that Grady hadn't asked for this, had never offered to be the dumping ground for all her despair and helplessness. All the poor boy had done was sit down with her, trying to be a good friend and cheer her up.

It hadn't worked, but that was no fault of Grady's. That same logical part of herself knew very well (and would have told him, had he asked,) that nothing in the world could cheer her up. He needn't have bothered looking for the "right words", because there were no right words. For a little while, at least, she was entitled to be inconsolabe. But even so, it was nice that he tried. That as much of a big lump of depression as she'd become, he was still loyal enough to sit down beside her.

It was such a shame that, as a reward for being a loyal friend, Grady was being used as a human tissue.