“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, sitting beside him. No reaction. He kept staring at something, and he didn’t even seem to blink.

“Sunny,” I slightly patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, what happened? Tell me.”

He closed his eyes, but didn’t make a sound. The falling snow was melting on his cheeks, diluting his tears. I was embarrassed. I’d never seen him cry. We sat like that for a long time, my jeans got wet from the snow. His hands seemed to be freezing, and he put them into his pockets, but he didn’t change his position. I was feeling cold too and was about to suggest we go home, when Sunny spoke.

“We were at a club, seven of us. Alex and I were the only 14, but the others were older. They studied at uni. We had two girls with us, real beauties. They bought us some beer and allowed us to dance with them. We thought it was so cool, and we were so grown up. But then they suggested we try something interesting to have more fun…”

He paused, and I patiently waited. Assumptions, each worse than the last, were lining up in my head, but I didn’t dare ask him to continue. To be honest, I don’t think I wanted to know the truth.

“They offered us some pills.” Sunny rose to his feet after quite an effort. His knees were wet with snow, and he didn’t even shake it off. “I couldn’t say no,” he said quietly and turned to walk away.

I sat and considered his words for a while, then I rose and went after him. “Sunny, you …” I started to say, but couldn’t finish.

He stopped and slowly turned around. I can still see his face with the look of despair, hopelessness and fear.

“I’m an addict, Walter.” His voice broke, then he turned and ran.

I ran after him, but soon fell behind. I didn’t really want to catch up with him. I wanted to wake up. I wanted this conversation to have never happened. I wanted last summer to have never happened too. I thought my world had collapsed. How wrong I was! My world would collapse a bit later.

For a while, everything was as before. Once again, we played “shooters” and “strategies” on the internet, we hung around and played football in the backyard. We barely spoke about his addiction. From time to time, Sunny would say he wanted to quit, but didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know whom to speak to or how to ask for help. He was afraid that if people at school found out, there would be a huge scandal. At best, he would be kicked out and sent to rehab, and this would be a disgrace to his whole family and to our school as well. His parents, as ill-luck would have it, were too busy with their own problems. Out of the blue, they decided that after 15 years of marriage, they were getting a divorce. In their minds, their son was now more or less grown up, and they wanted a second youth. So, Sunny felt almost alone in his fight, and I could not give him the support he needed. After all, I was only 15. I had no idea what to do. We just kept on pretending that nothing was wrong.

One day after school, Sunny came up to me. His cheeks were red, his eyes glistened, and his pupils were wildly dilated.

“Come with me,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse.

“Where to?” For some reason, I also spoke in a whisper.

“A dude is having a party.” He moved very close to me. “I want you to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” I said as I tried to step back from him. I didn’t like my personal space violated, even by him.

“You don’t know them,” he replied as he moved closer, “but they are awesome.”

I took another step back and felt the wall behind me. There was no escape. Sunny was waiting for an answer. His breath was heavy and hot, almost like he had a fever. I didn’t want to go with him, but I reluctantly agreed.