I'm fine. Thanks.

4. Stacy

"Are you okay?", he asks. I am surprised that he even recognized something was wrong. What was I going to say? I thought he didn't care for me anyways so he wouldn't notice I was a bit down. Well then your stupid, I thought to myself, because it turns out that he does seem to care. But still I could not tell him that they had declared my brother for dead. They didn't even search him that much. A year ago my brother was involved in a plane crash. He was on his way to Ottawa to start College there. In the plane his dead body was never found and later on People said they had seen someone who fit on his description close to Toronto. Maybe that's why I decided to move here out of all places. The police in Ottawa and in Toronto asked the police in Atlanta for help but they never received it. To be honest I don't blame the Canadian police for not finding Ian but I do blame my hometown police for not even helping out with information. And then yesterday I had received this letter which said "Declaration of Death" on the top of it. "Stacy?", Jimmy's voice wakes me from my thoughts. I didn't even realize that I'm crying. Quickly I try to wipe the tears away. "Yeah", I almost whisper. "I'm okay. It's just ... I miss someone." He doesn't say a word. Nothing. All he does is come a step closer. I look up to him. Afraid of what he might do. But the only thing that happens is that he wraps his arms around me and gives me one of the best hugs I have ever had.

The next class we have is Math. Like 99% of all the other students I hate math. And I don't see what I will need geometry or stochastic for later in my life. I frown at the paper in front of me. It looks like some language which is similar to Mandarin but not quite there and it's probably from some stupid old Greek men who invented this just to make us suffer. Why would you even study this?

"Keep in mind that next week we'll be righting our first supervision so make sure you are all prepared." The voice of our math teacher follows us out of the class room. I don't even remember her name. Meh. Who cares? I'll fail that stupid test anyways.

By the time lunch comes around I am more than ready to go home. Because I don't want to sit in the hot cafeteria with a mass of sweaty people I ask Jimmy where the next Tim Horton's is so we can go and grab a sandwich and coffee and maybe some donuts for lunch. We both get into my car. I let Jimmy drive because I don't know the way. As soon as I sit on the seat next to him and he starts the engine my thoughts start racing. What am I doing? I barely even know him and then entrust him my life? Haven't you learned anything Stacy Matthews? You know exactly how this might end. I try to shush my thoughts and concentrate on the music that is coming out of the radio. They are playing one of my favorite songs. I quietly sing the words along to Vienna by Billy Joel. [Song in the media] I remember learning it for the piano. Ian would sit next to me and we would both sing along to the songs I was playing. The memory of this sets a sad smile on my lips. "You know it's a shame you don't sing anymore", Jimmy breaks the silence between us. "Your quite good you know? Oh what am I saying? Yours is the most beautiful voice I have ever heard." I blush under his compliment. "Maybe sometime I'll start again.", I say and look at him. It's the first time I really see him smile. "Better not wait too long", is all he says before turning into the Tim Horton's parking place.

That afternoon after school I take Jimmy home. He actually doesn't live far from my place. I promise to pick him up in the morning so he doesn't need to take the bus. The offer stands as long as his car is still being repaired.

I unlock the door to my apartment. There are still a few boxes standing around. I moved here on my own so there is nobody waiting for me. I put my keys on a board next to the front door and take my shoes off. I like my apartment. Even though it's not that big it seems open and bright. The furniture is all set up but I still have to fill the shelves with my books and hang up some pictures. I should probably do that. I take a box full of photos and start looking for nice spots to place them. My search leads my into my living room. The walls are white and one side of the room is completely made out of glass to let in the beautiful sunshine. Because the sun has been shining all day the room is sort of warm. Right next to the ginormous window there is a big light blue couch with white pillows on top of it. On the other side there is an electric piano. I know it is nothing against my grand piano back in Atlanta but that one was to big and to loud to bring here. Next to it on the wall there hang my three guitars. One of them is Ian's. It is a black cut off and she is my favorite. The one right next to it was the one I got for my sixth birthday. It's also a cut off but in the normal brown wooden color. The last one is red. I bought it this summer shortly before I moved here. I take a picture of me and Ian both playing the guitar together out of the box and hang it up right above the piano. Deep in thought I put aside the box of photos and sit down in front of the piano. With my eyes closed my fingers find their way to the keys and the first tones of Vienna start to fill the room. Soon the piano is followed by my words singing along. Oh how I have missed singing.

The next morning I wake up before my alarm goes off. Because I can't sleep anymore I get up and go to the kitchen to make some coffee. My eyes sweep over my schedule on the fridge. They get stuck on the last period. The one right after lunch. Swimming. I feel panic climbing up my stomach. Everyone will see my scars. Those ugly scars I have all over my back. I hate them. That's why I mostly never go swimming. I try to blend out the thought of swimming while packing my bag and searching for my car keys.

The rest of the day goes along quite normal. Jimmy and me spent most of the time just sleeping through the classes. By the time lunch comes around I start to feel nervous. Of course Jimmy realizes something's wrong thanks to his supernatural sense of knowing how a person feels. Should I tell him? Let him ask first, I tell myself. Literally three seconds later he asks if everything is okay.