Alrighty then! I’m making a comeback. Please bear with me at the beginning of the story…I know. Blahblahblah…but I promise you that it will get very interesting…Now I can work on ‘Glamorous’ in peace. Be happy.

---

Jane Willow struggled to try to open her school locker as she transferred the weight of her binders to her left hip. With a sigh of frustration, she started banging her hand on the locker door.

“Whoa, girlfriend,” said a voice from behind her. “Would you like some help with your locker?”

Jane turned around and acknowledged her best friend. “Sure Irene. That’d be great.”

Irene stepped in front of Jane’s locker and started fiddling with the lock. “Tell me, what has gotten you so down this time? Life seriously cannot do this to anyone.”

“Yeah, but death can,” said Jane quietly.

“There!” said Irene triumphantly as she opened Jane’s locker door. “Nothing to it. Now, what was that you just said? I’m sorry, I was a bit distracted.”

“Nothing really. I was just—” started Jane as various items fell out of her locker.

“Hey! What’s this?” asked Irene quizzically as she picked up a single blue rose. “Is this yours?”

“Well, if it fell out of my locker, I’d guess so.”

“Who do you think that it is from?” giggled Irene. “Do you think that it’s from Daryl Chase?”

Jane’s expression changed. “As if,” she said slowly, “It’d be interesting though…”

Just then, Daryl walked by Jane’s locker. He caught her eye and winked at her. Jane felt her face flush. Suddenly, she could hear her heart beating in her ears. The world went eerily quiet.

“Uh…Jane?” Irene’s words brought Jane back down to earth. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” Jane looked away. “Sure. Um…thanks for helping me open my locker. I guess I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

“Alright then. Take care of yourself.” Irene turned around and walked away, heading towards her first class of the day.

---

The final bell rang. Jane packed up all of her books and left the classroom. When she got to her locker, she thought about the rose that she had received earlier. Jane smiled and started opening her locker with soaring expectations. She was not disappointed. Sure enough, amidst her textbooks, there was another blue rose delicately placed so that it accompanied the first one.

“Glad you like them,” came a deep voice from behind her.

Jane turned around slowly. She could not believe it. Daryl was actually talking to her and this time; it was not in one of her dreams. Suddenly, her thoughts cleared her mind. “You left these for me?” she asked coolly.

“Well…yes,” Daryl started. “I was sorta wondering what you were doing tonight. Maybe you would like to go hang out with me for a couple of hours or something.”

Jane’s mind started reeling. Her senses became overwhelmed. She stared openly at him. Unexpectedly, the vision of her brother smiling at her flashed through her mind. She swallowed slowly. “Um…I guess so. If you want.”

“Cool. I’ll pick you up around seven then?”

“Sure,” said Jane uncertainly.

“Alright then. I’ll see you tonight.” Daryl flashed her a grin and walked away.

Jane smiled as she thought about the way the conversations between her and Daryl would go. Yes, she thought, there is a lot of planning to be done. Slamming her locker door shut, she raced off to find Irene.

---

“Mom, I’m home!” yelled Jane as she walked through the front door.

There was no response.

“Mom? Where are you?” Jane called out almost desperately. “Are you okay?”

Silence. Jane received no response but she heard the upstairs washroom tap turn on. The house seemed to sigh in relief with Jane. She quickly tossed her backpack aside and trudged up the stairs into her room. She stood for a couple of minutes, just looking around the room. Her eye fell upon a picture of her and her brother. It was take only last summer. Suddenly, she felt nauseous. Jane backed up until her back was pressed up against a wall. She felt her knees give, and she crumpled to the floor, silent tears falling from her eyes, falling onto the floor.

---

Silence was routine at the Willow household dinner table. This night was no difference. Jane solemnly picked at her food, trying to figure out how to break the barrier of silence. She looked from parent to parent, back and forth, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Mom? Dad?”

Both her parents looked up at the exact same time. Jane noted his unhumourously. Her father spoke first.

“Yes…d-darling?” asked her father, as though the word was foreign to him.

Mrs. Willow just stared at Jane, her eyes and face equally blank.

“I…um…have a date tonight…” started Jane unsurely.

Looking at her parent’s faces, she could tell that her statement did not quite register in their minds.

“With Daryl,” stated Jane, with a hint of defiance in her voice.

Her mother’s face remained blank, but her father’s face clouded over with unreadable emotion.

“No…you can’t,” said her father, almost desperately. “I will not let you have anything to do with that boy. Not after…after…”

“After Paul died,” finished Jane plainly, looking her father dead in the eye.

Her mother’s face contorted with anger. “I told you not to bring up this topic at dinner again,” she said with her voice shaking.

Jane got up abruptly, almost knocking her chair over. “I am going, and that’s final. There is nothing you can do about it.” With that, Jane stomped away, running up to her room, and slamming the door shut behind her. Surprisingly, no tears came to her.

A feeling of serenity washed over Jane and she sat down on her bed. Then she got up again, changed, put on some makeup, and sat down on her bed once again. Jane tilted her head and considered something. Something clicked in her mind and she slid off of her bed and retrieved a small wooden box from underneath. Her heart filled with nostalgia as she brushed her hand softly over the place where Paul had carved his name. She opened the box and looked at the contents. There were some of her brother’s most prized possessions, including his Swiss Army pocketknife. Jane closed her eyes, lost in the moment.

---

Paul eagerly ripped off the wrapping paper of his birthday present to reveal a small package. His parents sat on either side of him, their eyes shining with excitement. Jane, at ten years of age, was hopping around excitedly.

“Open it! Open it!” she cried, childishly squealing.

Smiling shyly, Paul removed the lid of the box to uncover a Swiss Army pocketknife. Gingerly, he took it out and held it up to the light to see it better.

“Oh wow! This is the best birthday ever!” cried a delighted twelve-year-old Paul. “I’ll treasure this for the rest of my life!”

“That’s my boy,” said his father, affectionately ruffling his hair.

Paul’s mother went over to Paul and hugged him tightly. “And remember, we will always love you.”

Jane, still standing in front of them, had a huge grin plastered on her face as she saw how happy her brother was.

---

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” called out Jane, as she heard her parent’s bedroom door slam shut. Swiftly, she placed the pocketknife into her jean pocket and ran down the stairs.

She opened the door to find Daryl casually leaning against the doorway.

“Hey,” she said conversationally.

His grin widened. It almost sickened Jane. “Hey.”

“I guess we better get going,” said Jane as she closed the door behind her.

“How about we go for a walk?”

“Sounds great.”

They started heading off in the same direction in silence.

“So…how are your parents?” asked Daryl conversationally.

“Wonderful, as usual.” Jane could not help but be sarcastic.

“Oh?” questioned Daryl.

“Well, if somebody important in your life died, I’m sure that you would not be okay,” glared Jane accusingly.

“Oh,” said Daryl. His smile slowly disappeared. “Sorry about that. That was a horrible way to start off a conversation. But what happened to him wasn’t exactly my fault.”

Jane looked Daryl in the eye. She looked at his brown hair and his murky green eyes. But Jane saw through his physical appearance and his charm. She saw a boy who was afraid to face his past, afraid to face others, and afraid to face himself. He was a liar, a coward. Jane averted her gaze. They continued walking, once again in silence.

“It was your fault,” said Jane, speaking in a dangerously soft voice. “And you know it. Your heart knows it.”

Daryl stopped walking and turned to face her.

“What happened that night was an accident. Something that no one but himself could have prevented.” Daryl looked directly at her. Jane did not flinch.

“You could have helped him.”

“How was I supposed to stop him from attempting to drive home drunk?”

“You called yourself his best friend at the time!” said Jane, tears silently streaming down her face. “I trusted you. We all did. You knew that he was drunk. Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I told you. I did not know that he was drunk.”

“Liar,” spat out Jane.

Daryl raised his hand, as though he was about to strike Jane but he only clenched his fist, and then he lowered his arm back to his side.

“You don’t know the start of it,” said Daryl coldly. “Everybody loved your brother. It reminded me of the love I never got from my family, or even those who called me their friend.”

“And so you dared him to go drive when you knew that he was intoxicated?”

Daryl’s face darkened with anger. He clenched his fists tighter. In an instant, Jane whipped out her bother’s pocketknife, unsheathing the blade. She pointed it at Daryl. He took a step back.

“You will pay for what you did to my brother,” said Jane in a steadily deadly voice. She took a step forward. Daryl took a step back, nearing the road.

“Put that down. Who do you think you are? His avenger? It’s not going to bring him back if you kill me.” Daryl laughed. “Do you think that I wasn’t hurt by his death? Especially since I know that it was mostly my fault that he had died.” He eyed the knife cautiously and in one swift motion, he kicked the blade out of Jane’s hand and bolted across the street.

Jane bent down shakily to pick up the fallen pocketknife. She brushed off the dirt and turned in the direction of her house.

Then, as if in a dream, Jane heard the sound of a car that rounded the corner too fast. She heard the high-pitched scream of the brakes, and then a thud. A sickening silence hung over the atmosphere.

Without looking back, Jane walked home.