Note: I'm not sure how the school systems around the world go but for this story, I'm letting the school year start in the last week of August with summer hols spanning from about end May (which is about when Mike passed away) to the start of school. Enjoy!

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Chapter 4

September 16th – three weeks into the new school year and classes still remained largely the same, at least for Mathematics, that is. Mrs Thatcher had stuck true to her reputation, especially after droning on about the origins of Calculus (which, incidentally, comes from the Latin word meaning ‘little pebble’), much to the dismay of her unfortunate audience.

Jamie, who had previously resolved to at least try to muster some form of ‘undivided attention’ during lesson time, had held out longer than before though still found herself lost in her own world (and lost to that of the intricacies of differentiation and integration). Resting her head in the palm of her hand, her brown eyes were almost unable to pull themselves away from the date in her notebook, which had been circled with a thick, blue-inked marker.

“September 16th”… The significance of this date would mean little to many, save for the blatant fact that it marked out how many days of the new school term had passed (and how many more there was to come). For some, the date meant that there was just a hundred days more to Christmas and to others, the date could mean just another 24 hours of their lives. However, the significance behind this date would be an entirely different story to Jamie Andrews.

Jamie wasn’t sure if her other friends were truly aware of what day it was, but if they had been, she was thankful that they didn’t bring it up – at least in front of her.

The three weeks that they were in school had also amounted to three weeks of getting to know new student Matthew Nicholson, whose band met every Friday or so to plan a mini-concert for the kids in an orphanage just outside town. Jamie, at the request of good friend Maddie, had been to two of their practices so far though she herself had started to feel a steady compelling towards going there on her own.

There were times, though, where she could be found questioning herself on the real reason she attended such practices (sans the fact that Nigel kept insisting on visiting Napoleon on a weekly basis) and more often than not, she could still hear Maddie’s words echoing in her mind…

“No one can ever replace my brother…”

As if possessed by some unseen force, Jamie started to scrutinise the new student, trying to find ways and means to prove to herself that despite the uncanny resemblance between the new-comer and Michael Lewis, what Maddie had said was true.

Swimming though, Jamie noted with a soft smile, was not one of their common strong points. Jamie had previously overhead a conversation between Matthew and some of her peers about swimming and had unintentionally blurted out a question in surprise.

“You swim?” Jamie had asked, feeling her heartbeat racing as she awaited the latter’s answer.

The new student nodded.

“What style?”

At this juncture, the new student flashed her a mischievous grin before answering, “Brick style.”

Aside from his normally polite demeanour, new student Matthew Nicholson had a quirky sense of humour which, he tended to bring with him to class, making him rather likable amongst his peers. Teachers (including those on a permanent caffeine high) would rarely bother calling on him to answer their questions in class because (for one odd reason or the other), no matter how bored or how lost he was to said teacher’s ramblings, he always managed to maintain at least the finest shred of attention.

Those precious questions the teachers had so painstakingly thought of could be put to better use as a wake-up jolt to someone they found to be daydreaming in class. It was, after all, one of the few ways in which they could rescue their deranged students from the dangerous depths of la-la-land.

Jamie lifted her eyes from her notebook and eyed Mrs Thatcher as she exited the classroom with a self-satisfied smile on her face just as the bell signalling the end of school sounded. It wouldn’t be long till the buzz around the class would start and Jamie didn’t even need to look for it. It came to her in the form of tireless friend and classmate, Sherrie Olson.

“Hey Jamie! Hey Matt!” she half-laughed, dragging another chair to seat herself between Jamie’s and Matthew’s desks. At the same time, Al turned his such that it faced the rest as well.

“What have you got for us today, boss?” Matthew said wryly after they had half-murmured their hellos.

Sherrie’s eyes visibly lit up upon hearing Matthew’s question – a reaction that caused the others to sigh in unison.

“How nice of you to ask!” she exclaimed in that sing-song voice that the rest had heard too much of as she slung one hand over Al’s shoulder, the other digging into a little bag she had brought along with her, "It's a little fund-raising for cancer patients. Heard of the Lance Armstrong foundation?"

“Here,” Sherrie said as she produced three yellow bands onto Matthew’s desk.

“Sherrie raising funds? That’s something new,” Jamie chided as she picked up one of the bands, examining the queer object as she flipped it back and forth between both hands.

The bands, made of rubber, had the words ‘LIVE STRONG’ inscribed onto it with the word ‘strong’ particularly bolded in emphasis of its meaning. The fund-raising idea, thought of and executed just recently by the foundation, was rather new and unknown to many. It was only through an ad over the internet that Jamie learnt of its existence.

As usual, Sherrie seemed to take no notice of Jamie’s comments as she continued on her ceaseless ramble.

“My mum’s helping me order a pack online,” she said, then turning to whoever was still in class (incidentally, Al seized the chance to escape from under Sherrie’s arm, pulling his chair closer to Jamie and away from Sherrie), she yelled, “Anyone who wants to order wristbands can look for me! I can help you place your orders in bulk!”

“Almost sounds as though she’s earning a commission,” Matthew commented, folding his arms and leaning back into his chair.

“Not like there’s much commission to be made, if any at all, since these things are rather cheap,” Al countered, motioning towards the bands on the table before giving the other two a reproachful look. “Whatever it is, give her a chance. No harm done in a little fund raising for others.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Matthew replied, giving Al a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Jamie smiled and despite his slight awkwardness, Al smiled too.

“So…” Sherrie said as she turned back to the group, adjusting her rimless specs like she always did when she got down to business, “What about you guys? Placing any orders?”

“I’ll have a pink one if there’s any,” Matthew declared in a matter-of-fact tone, earning himself sceptical looks from the other three.

Al, however, was the first to comment. “Firstly, those pink, blue and other coloured bands you see being sold are rip-offs of the original by people who would want to earn the money supposedly for a charitable organisation. Secondly,” the questioning look on Al’s face intensified, “Pink?”

Matthew smiled slyly. “What’s wrong with a guy liking pink?”

“Nothing, it’s just that-”

“You mean you’re one of those new-age sensitive guys?” Sherrie asked excitedly, cutting Al off before he could finish.

“I believe the term is ‘metrosexual’,” Matthew replied, the sly look disappearing not once from his face.

He cast a quick glance at Jamie and she rolled her eyes. It was quite obvious that the guy was just pulling their legs but if he wanted to risk talking about such a subject with Sherrie, she would by all means let him. His courageous act of bravery would bring them more than enough entertainment for the day.

After all, it wasn’t everyday someone chose to court Death.

“What about the mall? Shopping! Do you like that too?”

Matthew shrugged, trying (very well, too) to maintain his calm composure.

Sherrie continued to babble on and it didn’t take too long before Al realised too that he had been had. Matthew, to give him credit, seemed almost immune to Sherrie’s ramblings and continued to play along – until, of course, she brought up the subject of manicures.

“So will it be ok if I drag you out for a manicure this weekend? Jamie refuses to accompany me!” Sherrie exclaimed excitedly, her eyes sparkling with hope and anticipation.

The grin that initially was on Matthew’s face faded, only to reappear on the faces of Al and Jamie who could barely contain their laughter.

“Give it up smart guy. She’s had you already,” Al laughed. Sherrie, on the other hand, had a bewildered look on her face.

For all her smarts when it came to academic studies, Sherrie was one of the slowest to detect jokes or understand punch lines.

“Try to get a wristband for Rachel and this is what I get,” he smiled sheepishly, sounding a little hurt, “Where has chivalry gone to?”

“Good question,” Jamie laughed, giving both boys a reproachful look before glancing at her watch. Making a quick mental note of the time, she continued, “Speaking of Rachel, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it for tonight’s practice. I’ve got something on.”

“It’s alright. We weren’t really planning for any discussion tonight anyway,” Matthew said, the playful tone disappearing from his voice, “But if you need a babysitter or something, you could always drop your brother by my place. I don’t think anyone minds and Napoleon misses him too.”

“Alright, thanks. Just don’t let him near the microwave,” Jamie continued, quickly packing her books into her backpack. She paused for a while, then picked up one of the yellow wristbands lying on the table. “Is it alright if I take this? I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“Sure. Take as many as you like,” Sherrie sang with sheer delight in her voice.

Jamie Andrews said a quick goodbye before rushing out of the classroom. School had already ended slightly later that day and the time was already fast approaching the late afternoon. If she hadn’t left then, it would be close to nightfall by the time she reached that place. It was a place she wasn’t very comfortable visiting, but she didn’t really have much of a choice then.

Today was, after all, the sixteenth of September.

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The situation back home had not been as easily solved as that in school. For one, after being informed that he would not be going over to Matthew’s house that evening, Nigel who was already decked out in aluminium foil (which was supposed to be his ‘armour’) and armed with a toy lightsabre, packed his other ‘war’ equipment into an old, toy wagon (ceremoniously dubbed the Falcon) and was about to head out of the door when Jamie caught him and dragged the squirming young Jedi back into the kitchen where their mum was.

“The disturbance in the Force has to be quelled some other day, young Skywalker,” Jamie said in mock seriousness as she plopped the little boy in the seat beside his mother, “You know I can’t bring you to see Yoda today.”

“No one said you had to bring me there!” he exclaimed angrily.

Jamie shook her head in mock regret.

“Be angry you must not, young Skywalker,” she sighed, doing an imitation of the revered Jedi Master, Yoda, “Fear and anger are the paths to the darkside. Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate and hate… leads to suffering.”

The boy glared back defiantly at her.

“Translation: Mum’s going to cut your allowance for another month if you don’t listen to her, right?”

Their mother nodded her head solemnly, placing a hand reassuringly on Nigel’s shoulders.

“You know I cannot have an eight-year-old child running about the streets like that,” she explained in a more comforting tone than the one Jamie had used.

“But…”

Jamie knelt down to his height and patted the young boy’s head.

“Don’t sulk. Sulking’s bad too.”

“Is it against the teachings of the Jedi?” Nigel asked.

Jamie pursed her lips. “Actually, I have no idea,” she laughed, “Anyway, I’ll ask Maddie to give you a lift or something, since she’s probably headed down there tonight as well. Alright?”

The young boy nodded, much to the relief of his mother and sister. Maddie had been more than obliging to act as Nigel’s chauffeur when Jamie explained the situation to her, though, Jamie suspected, Maddie already could guess what was on her mind.

Less than an hour after she had successfully pacified her adamant young brother, Jamie found herself pushing her bike up a steep hill towards her destination. In the wire basket in front of her bike was the yellow wristband she had gotten earlier from school that day as well as a bunch of freshly cut white orchids (roses were so much more expensive) and forget-me-nots. Despite the fact that she had worn her thickest hoodie the chilling autumn winds still cut straight to the bone, making her shiver a little.

“You better be thankful I’m doing this for you,” Jamie murmured to herself just as the end point of her long walk came into view.

It was a small church near the top of the hill, surrounded by the golden trees of autumn that swayed gently in the breeze, seemingly unaffected by the cold.

Michael would have liked this, Jamie thought as she leaned her bike against the outer fencing of the church, making her way inside the compound and towards the back with the flowers and wristband in hand.

She knew exactly where it was so it didn’t take her too long to find it. Kneeling down before the headstone, she took in a deep breath before reading the words that marked his grave.

In loving memory of Michael Donovan Lewis, beloved son and friend.

“Hey Mike,” Jamie started, but she could already begin to hear her voice shake. “It’s been a while hasn’t it? Come to think of it, that sounds rather odd, considering where you and I both are now…”

Jamie paused as though allowing enough time for an answer. It never came.

“You have no idea how much I miss the old times,” Jamie continued, a wan smile creeping onto her face, “How we always used to hang out together, joke about our teachers and whatnot…”

It was a one-sided conversation but even so, Jamie didn’t mind. There were just so many things she wanted to tell him, so many things she wanted to say, so much so that she couldn’t stop babbling, even as tears started to blur her surroundings.

“Anyway, there’s this new guy in school now by the name of Matthew Nicholson and you wouldn’t believe how much he looks like you, acts like you too. I quite like the guy. He’s kind of funny, but… yeah… I guess, sometimes I get a little scared – scared that I’m trying to use him to forget you…”

Choking back tears, Jamie traced the wording on the headstone with trembling hands, remaining quiet for a while. The cool breeze continued to blow, though was more subdued then. Gentle and soothing, it blew lightly across her teary face and into her hair like a pair of hands gently raking through it like quiet wisps – like Michael’s hands when she sought comfort in him.

Jamie looked down at the flowers and wristband still in her hand and smiled again, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“These are for you,” she smiled, “The flowers are self-explanatory though the wristband is supposed to be some fund-raising project for cancer patients. It’s kind of a fad right now so I thought you may like one. Silly isn’t it?”

She paused again, using the time instead, to arrange the flowers and wristband in a neat display along with the other bunch of flowers and a greeting card which, she assumed Maddie or her family had brought. While at work, a thought crossed her mind and she bit down on her lip before looking up at the name engraved onto the headstone once more.

“You know what? I think you’ve helped me come to a decision,” she announced, her voice shaking slightly, “I think I’ll help their band play for Christmas… I think you’ll really kill me if I ever stopped playing…”

Jamie shook her head, trying to dispel that slight tinge of disappointment within her, stood up and dusted herself. She looked down at the headstone one last time for she didn’t know when she would be able to bring herself to go all the way up there again. The headstone was a very real and prominent reminder of what they all had lost.

She sighed, trying to calm herself before she turned to go, but not without looking over her shoulder one last time.

“Oh and Michael,” she laughed bitterly, “Don’t think I forgot…”

“Happy Birthday.”

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A/N: It’s been almost a month hasn’t it? Really sorry about the long time in-between updates but yeah… School’s started already and it’s getting rather hectic and honestly, I don’t really have all that much to write (homework… :( ). One thing though, since I normally draft chapters in twos or threes, the next one should be up pretty soon (though the speed at which it will be put up is inversely proportional to the amount of homework I have).

As for the chapter, maybe I overdid it with the Star Wars reference so I apologise if I lost you somewhere. Just in case you’re wondering, the ‘Falcon’ (Nigel’s wagon) is actually a reference to the Millennium Falcon, Han Solo’s ship in Star Wars Episodes 4 to 6.

I should stop making so many obscure references -.-“ (Anyone noticed the small similarities between the last part and the prologue? O.o)

Jam: I don’t know why but it’s just so fun to do all the scenes with Nigel though we won’t see much of him for a while. Jamie’s still more or less maintaining her distance from the rest but we’ll just wait and see, no? I have to agree, though, that Matt’s somewhat like Anpher, just that I’m trying to make him a less passive one and more light-hearted one (though if it’s the dry humour you’re waiting for, wait even longer :x)

controv3rsyxx: Actually, I’m still a little worried on the pacing. It’s one of the many things I deliberate before getting to work, hence the slow update rate. Thanks for reviewing though!

canadian-diva: My original intention was to make him a ten-year-old (so the age gap between him and Jamie wouldn’t be so wide) but I guess I went a little overboard while writing his scenes. Glad you enjoyed it. :)

Thanks to all else for reading.