Inside the classroom, I scanned the students’ faces as I struggled to commit each to memory. I couldn’t bear forgetting any of these teenagers. I wanted constant reminders of the people who had changed my life.

I gazed at Jamie’s sweet and youthful face. My eyes trailed the length of his small nose and skipped along the golden dusting of freckles on his cheekbones. Finally, my sight arrested on those orbs of chocolate brown which always rendered me speechless. It was as if I were glancing at winking stars. However, the rail-thin boy didn’t look back at me, no matter how long I observed him. I felt my heart squeeze as the minutes ticked.

I was still painting an image of Jamie in my mind when Mrs. Bailey swung open the door, flicked on the lights, and turned off the DVD player. Several of the students groaned at the black screen. Others simply stared.

“What did you do that for?” Andy asked. His black brows rose. “It wasn’t over, Mrs. Bailey.”

“Your Peer Supporters have an announcement to make, and I’d like you all to listen,” Mrs. Bailey called out over the din, her voice a muffled clap as she entered the room.

“Um,” Kathleen began, as she pulled herself up beside me.

The lights were suddenly daggers pointing down at us. Their bright beams froze Kathleen and me into time-captured statues. I wet my lips while Kathleen ran a hand through her long ponytail.

“This is our last day here for the semester,” I started, my voice cracking. I swallowed the rise of emotions in the back of my throat. Mentally, I grappled for purchase of the appropriate words. Before I had a chance to think any further, Kathleen interrupted the scrambling of my thoughts.

“We’ve had a wonderful few months getting to know everyone, and we’d like to thank you all for your warm welcome. We wish you well for the future and hope to see you next semester!” Kathleen’s blue eyes were glassy like the sea.

We were observed by most of the students with confused expressions, though some frowned deeply. The room became silent for several seconds, almost as if the students were waiting for instruction. I glanced around, my eyes falling on a collage of brightly coloured drawings that had been pinned on a sideboard. The artwork was from the holiday party Kathleen and I had organized for the students. I felt my heart swell.

“We love you all!” I blurted. A few of the students broke into a roaring applause.

“Well done, girls!” Mrs. Bailey, Mrs. Graves, and Mrs. McGuire chorused from the doorway as they clapped enthusiastically.

I felt tears prick my eyes, but I pushed them back. Kathleen could barely keep herself together. Her hands were balled into trembling fists. She was breaking inside, even as she tried to stay calm.

Every bone in my body shuddered as if I’d been stripped of my flesh and a wheeze of cool air had slithered between the gaps. I felt as though I could crumble into an insignificant pile of dust. Had I even made an impact on the students? How could there be no time left to make a difference? Disconcerting thoughts bloomed within my mind and, in response, I felt my shoulders sag.

As Kathleen and I reluctantly trudged out of the room, each of us received numerous high-fives. The kind gestures were treasured, but none of them compared to the expectations I held for one person: Jamie. He stared at me as I brushed past him. We were so close that he could have grabbed my arm.
I lingered beside Kathleen outside the main door. The slap of glass separated one world from another. The teachers gave us several more big hugs. Mrs. Graves brushed away tears rolling down her face, Mrs. Bailey handed Kathleen and me each a bouquet of flowers, and Mrs. McGuire thanked us repeatedly.

Kathleen pulled away first and disappeared with a tear-streamed face. I couldn’t stop myself from looking back into the classroom as I waited for the boy I’d come to adore.

He didn’t appear, and I couldn’t wait. I slipped through the door as I fought the impulse to return and tears slipped down my face. I was halfway down the hallway when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, annoyed because I was upset. “Not now, Kathleen –” I began. “Jamie?” I cried. My hand clutched at my heart.

On impulse, the boy laced the fingers of his right hand with my left. He held my gaze for what could have been seconds or eternity. We simply stared at one another. Neither of us said a word, but a collection of memories seemed to lace us together in an invisible twine that bridged two very different lives, blending them into one.


I felt his hand slowly slide away as my throat constricted painfully. He glanced up at me in wonder, his brows merged with worry. I felt a stinging tremor hurtle through my spine. It was as though a twisting and tightening ribbon was coiling around my vertebrae. Suddenly, I was incredibly numb. What am I doing? I don’t want what this experience to become a shadow that I have to chase. I want to stay with Jamie. I wish to remain the person I become when I’m with him.

“Do you have to go?” he asked. His forehead creased with immediate and startled confusion. I had no answer. Indeed, the right words were stars beyond reach. His patience – the quiet stillness of his body – startled me. How could he be strong when I was inexplicably weak?


If only he knew, or on some level understood, the emotions that were hammering me like a splintered nail into the ground. Fear seemed to stretch around me in an elastic band. It teased me with a glimpse of a world beyond its borders. I was moving on, but he had to stay behind. It was that simple, but so difficult. He had become both a friend and brother in my eyes. He was a part of me.

“Did I do something wrong?” These words fisted around my heart. Done something wrong? How could he have? It was me. He had to remain in the classroom because this was where he belonged. But I belonged somewhere else. As much as I wanted to be there for him, I could not. I had to return to a steady diet of regular classes. There would be no more fantastic trips to this classroom. The semester was over, and I would have four new classes in less than a week. Besides, I wouldn’t even be a high school student in less than four months. Another excursion was only steps away. Its foreign land loomed before me like a tumultuous sea.

I had watched him grow, one milestone after another. The strange thing is that his disorder never stood in his way. He seized life with a kind of happiness only children seemed to embody. His heart beat the same as the one thumping against my ribcage, and he had dreams like every teenage boy. And still, he was not seen for who he really was. Sometimes it was as if only I could see him. His presence swirled in the air like a brilliant breeze. He was so beautiful, and I felt as though I would collapse into a tight ball at the sight of such pain inflicted on his innocent face.

“Stay. Don’t go. I need you.” Fresh tears, like iced buckets of water, splashed down my face. My fingers shook in the frightening distance between us. No, I would not leave him. There was little time, but enough. I would find a way to stay with him and embrace every last moment. One day there would be someone else to resume my position, to help guide him. Someone who could understand and see him for who he was – not how he was labelled. I could only hope. For now, I would stand at his side.

With renewed strength, our fingers knotted together. Inexplicably, there seemed to be an understanding burning in his eyes.

“Someday,” he whispered.

“Yes, but not yet.”