He'd been wrong, to ask - he must have been, because it made her cry harder, her body shaking with sobs and it was his fault, all his fault. "Summer..." he tried the name out on his tongue, but nothing, not even when she said they'd lived across the street from each other did anything appear, his memory a blank when he tried to access her face before just now, her name. But all he had was right now, and she was still crying, harder, and something in him made him take a step forward, reaching out tentatively to touch her shoulder, not sure at all what to do because whatever she wanted from him... he couldn't give her.

"I'm sorry - I wish I could remember you, anything, but don't - please don't cry." Given that for all he knew, he had never in his life had to comfort a crying girl, he felt more than a little lost, but he was bound and determined to try to make this better instead of worse. "It's nice to meet you, Summer Roberts, because you're clearly very kind and very beautiful, so please stop crying so I can see your pretty face." He dug into his uniform pocket for his handkerchief, ready to offer it up but that meant she'd have to look at him, move her hands, and hopefully cry less instead of more. "I should apologize right now for not writing, shouldn't I? It sure means I've been nothing but a lughead."