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Note: I wrote this chapter before former President Reagan died. There is a reference to him in this chapter. Anyone who knows my politics can figure out that Reagan wasn’t my favorite president! However, I left in the reference because it is a good way to illustrate Eddie’s mindset--knowing the results of something like a presidential election in advance.

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After lunch, I practically sleepwalked through my next class. The one after that, which was history, they made an announcement over the loudspeaker.

I didn’t think that was necessarily the right thing to do. I mean, some people, that’s how they found out. I’m not sure if I liked it. I later found out that Beth had requested it be done. But she was dying. Someone should have talked her out of it.

Anyhow, I was sitting in history class, and the loudspeaker crackled. "Attention. May I please have everyone’s attention." It was the principal himself. "I have sad news. A member of our Sophomore class, Elizabeth Trovini, lost her long battle with leukemia and passed away late this morning. Funeral arrangements are still being made and will be posted on the bulletin board outside of the office when they are complete. Our condolences go out to Elizabeth’s family and friends."

I wasn’t going to cry. There was no reason to cry. I knew this was coming. I’d lived through it before. I accepted the inevitability of it. I wasn’t going to cry.

I cried. Sitting there in the middle of fucking history class with big huge fat tears rolling down my face. I just couldn’t stop it. I knew she was gone--had known for some time that she was going--but hearing that announcement was like a kick in the gut.

I realized something then. I thought I’d dealt with things much better this time--not letting her push me away, keeping our friendship right until the end, going to see her in the hospital a mere five days ago. I figured that was the better way to handle it. And in the long run, I’m sure it would be.

In the short run? Well, the way I handled it the first time, Beth and I did say goodbye, in a manner of speaking, though we never said it out loud. It was the long, gradual, fading-away-in-the-distance goodbye. When she left, she was already gone, if you see what I mean.

This way? It was sudden. It was brutal. Even though I knew it was coming. Five days! I’d seen her five fucking days ago! And now--gone. Like that. Just completely brutal.

Now I know why she’d pushed me away the first time, and why she tried to push me away this time, and why she didn’t want me visiting her in the hospital. She was trying to save me from this.

I still thought she was wrong, mind you. Because I could see into the future. It might be worse now, but it wouldn’t be five, ten, twenty years down the road. I was convinced of that.

First, however, I had to live through the now. And the now was me sitting in a damn class unable to stop crying, with the teacher and the rest of my classmates--many of whom didn’t know Beth from a hole in the wall--looking on in horror.

However, I’d forgotten who was in that class with me. And I guess with the whole post-Kelly post-everything else fallout, I’d forgotten who my friends were. Two of them reminded me. Danica Rosen was in that class, and before I knew it, she was crouched next to my desk, murmuring in my ear and rubbing my hand. Michelle Pepper was standing behind me, massaging my neck.

Damn.

The teacher, Mrs. Cruickshank, spoke up after a few minutes. "Are you going to be all right, Ed?"

I couldn’t speak. Michelle spoke for me. "Beth Trovini was his best friend," she told Mrs. Cruickshank.

"Michelle? Dani? Could one of you get Ed to the nurse, please?" Mrs. Cruickshank said. They managed to get me out of my chair and Michelle walked me down to the nurse, her arm around me. I’d gotten the crying down to the odd sniffle.

"I know how bad this sucks," she said.

"That it does."

"Eddie? I’m going to miss her, too. Thank you for introducing her to me. I’m a better person for having known her." That just made me start crying all over again.

However, through the tears, I had a moment of perfect clarity. This time around, I had lessened my isolation, hadn’t let Beth push me away, and had stayed here instead of going to the Prep. Because of all those things combined, who had I introduced Beth to that would’ve never have known her? God, there were so many. Kelly, Kara, Danica, Michelle, Stan...the list just went on. Those people got to know Beth. Michelle was clearly broken up--not as badly as I was, but she felt the loss.

Grief shared is grief lessened, right?

Besides, what Michelle said was right--anyone that got to know Beth was a better person for it.

Even in the midst of my tears, I had an enormous sense of having done the right thing.

We got to the nurse’s office, and I heard this awful wailing. I immediately knew what it was. "Oh my God, Olivia," I said to Michelle.

"Shit. She’s going to be a basket case. At least you had accepted in your mind that it was coming," Michelle said.

"Right."

We walked up to the nurse. Michelle knew her, she was Michelle’s neighbor. "Hi, Mrs. Lancaster," she said. "This is my friend Eddie. The girl that died was his best friend, he’s a little shook up."

"Are you OK?" she asked.

"I’m a little shaky. I started crying in history class," I admitted. "That howling. Is that Olivia Drogins?"

"Yes, it is," the nurse said sadly. "She’s inconsolable. I understand she was very close to--what was her name? Elizabeth?" I nodded. "Well, Olivia’s having a far worse time of it than you are."

"I accepted the probabilities. Olivia was in denial. Can I see her? It might help."

"Are you sure that is a good idea, Eddie?" Michelle asked. "You weren’t in great shape yourself a minute ago."

"I’m better than Olivia. She needs a friend." Michelle nodded. I hugged her and thanked her for the support. She headed back to class, as the nurse took me to the room where Olivia was.

She looked absolutely horrible. She obviously had been crying and wailing for some time. This is why I disagreed with announcing it over the loudspeaker. "Eddie?" she wailed. "Oh, God, Eddie, she’s gone! I can’t believe she’s gone!" After that, there were no words, just screaming.

I just went over to her and held her for a while. I didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t exactly feeling all that great myself. She settled down a little bit.

"I have something for you," I told her, remembering. It was in my book bag. I took it out and handed it to her. "I saw Beth on Saturday, I went into the hospital."

"She’d said no visitors," Olivia said.

"I ignored her. She was pissed at first, but finally was glad. We had a wonderful day together. Anyway, she wrote you something. She told me to give it to you, you know, after."

"What’s in it?" she said, looking at the envelope.

"I have no idea. That’s between you and Beth. I’m just the deliveryman."

She tore it open and started reading, and I watched her gradually relax. It was visible. She was pulling herself together, reading the last note from Beth.

I didn’t ask. That note was from Beth to Olivia. Beth and I had said what needed to be said. So, I don’t know what Beth wrote. Whatever it was--it helped. It helped a lot. Olivia got stronger with every line she read.

That’s Beth for you.

Anyhow, we hugged for a while after she finished the note--but she was better. She was still a little sniffly, but better. She decided to stay with the nurse for the rest of the day, but I headed for my last class, biology. I felt better and bio was my favorite subject.

I was a little late. I handed Mr. Cullin, the teacher, my note from the nurse. "Feeling ill, Ed?" he asked.

"Not physically. But I’m OK for now."

"You look like you’ve been crying," he said. He said it softly, but, of course, the whole class heard.

"The girl that died today, Beth Trovini, was my best friend," I told him. "I’m OK now, though."

"You really don’t have to be here," he said.

"I’m fine," I said, and took my seat.

Afterwards, Stan was waiting for me. "You OK?" he asked.

"I’m hanging in there," I said.

"If you need anything?"

"Thanks. It’s appreciated." I made my way out to the bus stop.

I got on the bus, feeling kind of lost. Danica had already grabbed a seat, and pulled me into it. "You need a friend today," she said.

"Thanks," I replied gratefully. Sara said something to me as she passed, as did some of the others on the bus.

Kelly was one of the last people on the bus. She looked miserable--hey, she’d become friends with Beth, too, when we were going out. She looked around and spotted me, and walked up to me. "Eddie, I’m so sorry," she said.

"Thanks," I replied. Those were the first words she’d said to me since we broke up. And it just didn’t seem to matter anymore. She bit her lip and kept walking towards the back of the bus.

Danica put her hand on mine for the whole ride home.

When I got home, Mom was there waiting for me. I could tell she’d been crying. "I know," I told her, "they announced it at school."

"Are you OK?"

"Not particularly."

"Eddie, I’m so glad you went in to see her on Saturday."

"So am I. I’m gonna go to my room, listen to some music," I told her.

I listened to music for most of the afternoon, just lying on the bed, lost in my thoughts. Mom called me for dinner after a while.

"Where is everybody?" I asked her, seeing it was just us.

"Your brother and sister are over your Grandmother’s. Dad’s got a late job tonight so he won’t be home until close to midnight. And after supper, I’m going over to Lydia’s. She needs some help tonight."

"OK," I said.

"Will you be OK alone?"

"Yeah," I said, though I wasn’t too sure of that. Maybe I’d call someone.

"The wake is tomorrow. The funeral is Saturday. Look, Gram wants to go to the funeral. I don’t know if Dad is going to be around. I thought that you might not want to go to the funeral, so you could stay home and watch the kids."

That’s what had happened the first time. That’s right, I didn’t go to Beth’s funeral the first time. The wake was devastating enough. This time, however, was different. "Sorry, Mom, I have to go to the funeral. I promised Beth. She asked me to get up and speak."

"Really?"

"Yeah. When I was there on Saturday, she asked if I would."

"You going to be able to get through it?"

"I promised I would, so I will."

We finished eating, and then there was a knock at the door. I went to answer it--and, before I knew it, I was being wrapped in a bear hug.

Kara.

"Oh, Eddie, I’m so sorry," she said, looking up at me. It was obvious she’d been crying.

"I’m so glad to see you," I said, which was the truth. "How did you find out so soon?"

"Kelly called me," she told me. "She said she thought you’d need a friend. So she called me. I called Mom and told her to come get me." Mrs. Pocharsky was with her, she’d come in behind her and was in the kitchen talking to my mother. "So, here I am. I’m not going back to school until after the funeral."

"It’s Saturday. The wake is tomorrow. God, Kara, I’m so glad you’re here."

"I’m glad I’m here, too." Mrs. Pocharsky left, saying she’d be back to pick Kara up in a few hours. Mom headed out, too, to go to Lydia’s.

We went into the living room and sat on the couch for a while, just holding one another. "I’m going to miss her. Not as much as you are, obviously, but I liked her a lot," Kara said.

"Yeah."

"Look, I hope it’s all right that I’m here--you know, instead of Kelly. I tried to get her to come, but she just couldn’t."

"Don’t be silly. Kara, I love you. I’ll always love you. I’m very glad you’re here. It helps a lot." And it was the truth. In fact, Kara was just about the only person in the world that could make me not miss Kelly.

We cuddled and snuggled for a while. Kara just was intent on making me feel better. After a while, she said, "I’ve never seen your bedroom. You’ve seen mine, but I’ve never seen yours." So, I took her up to the third floor. Luckily, it was clean--well, clean for me, anyhow!

We sat on my bed and talked for a little longer, listening to some Beatles. After a while, we started kissing. And I don’t even know how it happened. Before I knew what had hit me, we were naked and fondling.

Considering my conflicted attitudes towards sex lately, if it were anyone other than Kara, I would have stopped it. But I needed it. This night, I needed to feel something other than despair for a while. Considering the mess that some of my romantic relationships had deteriorated into, I might have been worried. But not with Kara. If there was anyone I trusted, and anyone I knew who would do this with me for all the right reasons, it was her.

And she was hurting, too. Besides being upset about Beth, we’d both been dumped recently. And she trusted me as much as I trusted her.

"Make love to me, Eddie," she said after we’d fondled for a while. "I need it, and so do you." She was right.

I got a little surprise when I went looking for a rubber. "You don’t need those anymore, not with me," she giggled. "It’s real easy to go on the Pill up at Andrews--the school clinic prescribes them." That was a nice surprise--I hadn’t been able to go helmetless since the first life. And it felt marvelous when I sank into her.

Here I was, on the absolute worst day of my life, making love to my First True Love, and completely unexpectedly at that. It was, really, just what I needed. Hey, after Kelly, and Christine, and to some extent Belle, I’d worried about all the problems sex can cause. The confusion, the jealousy, the using nature of it sometimes. I’d worried about that. But, here, with Kara in my bed, thrusting back up at me, her arms and legs wrapped around me, I remembered something else.

Sex, with someone you truly love, can be healing, too.

After we both came, wrapped around each other, Kara cried. I might have too--though I was pretty cried out by then. I just put my arms around her and hung on for dear life. It was the one ray of light in a dark, dark day.

Little did I know the day wasn’t going to get any better. You see, I was emotionally exhausted after the day. Kara must have been, too--I mean, she heard about Beth’s death, was upset, and moved heaven and earth to get home to be with me. She must’ve been as tired as I was. Plus, sex is tiring anyhow. Highly emotional sex--which this was--is more so.

So, it’s no big surprise that we fell asleep.

We were woken by my mother standing at the doorway to my room, screaming.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

That’s right--caught, red-handed. We were sleeping, but the residue of our lovemaking was obvious. We were still naked, wrapped around one another, and we’d fallen asleep without cleaning up. In other words, there was evidence--on my dick, on Kara’s thighs. We couldn’t hide it.

What was worse was that my mother loudly told us that Kara’s mom had been pounding on the door for ten minutes before she pulled up in the car. So, Mrs. Pocharsky was here, downstairs. And we’d better get dressed and get down there in a damn hurry.

She stormed back down the stairs, and I looked at Kara and moaned. "Shit. We are well and truly fucked."

"Yes, I was," she giggled. "And it was good, too."

I had to laugh. "How can you be so calm? We just got caught!"

"What the hell are they going to do to us? Forbid us to see one another? We don’t see each other much anyhow. Is my mother going to ground me? I go to boarding school, for goodness’ sake!"

"I don’t," I pointed out. "I might get grounded until I’m 18." We started pulling our clothes on. "Though I might be able to summon up an ally."

"An ally?"

"Dad. He knows. He’s known for a while. He’s far more liberal than Mom is."

"My Dad will absolutely freak. I’m glad it’s Mom, actually," she said. We got done dressing and went down to face the music.

Mrs. Pocharsky started. "What ARE you two thinking?"

"That he needed to be loved?" Kara said.

Mrs. Pocharsky shook her head. "Look, I know Eddie is hurting, but that’s no reason to surrender your virginity."

"And what if you got her pregnant?" my Mom pitched in.

"First of all, Mrs. Bovilas, I’m on the pill, so I won’t be getting pregnant," Kara said.

"THE PILL???" Mrs. Pocharsky yelped.

"Yes. The Pill. And, second of all, Mom, that wasn’t my virginity. I lost that in eighth grade. To Eddie, by the way, and it was his, too. This was not our first time together. And I have slept with others, at school."

"EIGHTH GRADE???" Mrs. Pocharsky yelped again. "Kara, I thought I knew you better than that. Where did I go wrong?"

"You didn’t." she said.

"And what about you?" Mom said to me. "I take it Kara was not your only, either?"

"No," I admitted.

"What has gotten into you?" she asked me.

"Kara and I decided we wanted to be each other’s first. We knew she was going away, so we rushed things a bit. We know that."

"And I can’t speak for Eddie, but I think he’ll agree with me, that it gave me a taste of sex. And I like it," Kara admitted.

"Good girls don’t do that!" Mrs. Pocharsky said.

"Who made those rules?" Kara asked.

"Well, I’ll say one thing for you, young lady. I don’t know how you can live with yourself when you walk into church on Sunday."

"We had a talk about that once," I piped up, "a bunch of us. And to quote Bob Golan, if every Catholic who had premarital sex didn’t go to church, there’d be a whole lot of empty pews."

"I go to church because I believe in God," Kara said. "If that’s not a good enough reason..."

This went on for a while. Mom was screaming, Mrs. Pocharsky was screaming, Kara was trying to defend herself. Me? I just shut down. I ended up on a chair in the corner, my head in my hands. Nobody noticed. They were too busy yelling at Kara and me.

In the middle of this, Dad walked in from work. He greeted Mom and said hello to Kara. Mom introduced him to Mrs. Pocharsky. "OK, so what the hell is all the yelling I heard when I walked in?" he said.

"I caught your son and Kara in bed together."

"Oh. Is that all?" he said.

"IS THAT ALL?" Mom screamed.

"You’d think the world came to an end," Dad chuckled. "Kara’s not my daughter so I can’t say a word about that. But I’m not going to get on Eddie for it, and neither should you." He turned to me. "Did you force her?"

"NO WAY!" Kara piped up before I could say a word. God, I love that girl.

Dad turned to her and chuckled, then turned back to me. "You protected her?"

"Didn’t have to this time, she’s on the pill," I told him.

"Good. So what’s the problem?" Dad asked.

"The problem is that they’re too young, " Mrs. Pocharsky said.

Dad turned to her. "Ma’am, like I said, Kara’s your daughter. I can’t say a word to that. For the record, though, I don’t think Eddie’s too young--and Kara strikes me as more mature than Eddie is."

"You don’t think Eddie’s too young?" Mom said in disbelief.

"No, I don’t," Dad replied.

I just couldn’t take it. I just wanted it to all go away. Voices were starting to be raised again, and I just slumped into my seat. This time, Kara noticed.

"Look," she said, interrupting the yelling adults, "is there any way we can have this conversation some other time? Stop yelling for a minute and look at Eddie. Look what this is doing to him. Hasn’t he had a bad enough day?"

"Bad enough day?" Dad asked.

That’s when I realized--he’d been gone all day. He didn’t know. "Beth died today," I told him.

His face immediately sunk. For a minute there I thought he was going to cry. I can’t remember ever seeing him cry, in either life. That wasn’t Dad’s style. But he sunk into his reclining chair and looked miserable. "Damn. I knew it was coming, but damn." He looked up at Mom and said, pointedly, "Now that is a case of too young. As in, died too young. That’s the only ‘too young’ that really matters." He looked at Kara. "So now I know why you’re here and not at your boarding school. You found out and came down to comfort him."

"Something like that," Kara said. "Actually, that’s what it was. He needed a shoulder to cry on and I knew it. Hey, I liked Beth too and didn’t really want to be up at school myself. But the sex just happened."

"Kara, you’re right," Mrs. Pocharsky finally said. "This isn’t the day to discuss this. Eddie, I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. I realize why you and Mom are upset. I just can’t deal with it."

"OK." They left, Kara giving me a hell of a kiss before she left. We made plans for mom and I to pick her up for the wake tomorrow.

I just crept back upstairs. I finally fell asleep, fitfully

I didn’t go to school. I wasn’t in any mood for it.

I came downstairs and futzed around with a late breakfast. Mom wasn’t working today. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Numb," I answered truthfully.

"Look," she started, "I’m sorry I came down so hard on you. Finding you and Kara like that just shocked me."

"I know it did, but it’s my life. Look, I’m a good kid. I don’t go out drinking, I don’t do drugs, I get excellent grades, I don’t cause trouble. I like girls, though. I like sex with girls. I’m careful about it, and I don’t force or coerce anyone."

"I know all that. I take it Kara’s not the only one."

"No," I said, but wasn’t going to say anymore. I’d confess about Kelly if she pressed, but I did not want her to know about Annabelle. She’d freak at that one. Luckily, she didn’t press.

"I know you’re responsible for your age, Eddie. I do. I just worry."

"I know. I’ll be fine."

She dropped the subject after that. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. Mom was reasonable. She’d had her moment of venting--and if it hadn’t been that particular day I wouldn’t have even minded. Then she thought about it and backed off. She trusted me, for the most part.

I was actually more worried about Kara.

She called right around noontime. "How are you?" she asked.

"Hanging in there. How about you?"

"Fine. She told Dad when we got home."

"And he freaked."

"Actually, not at all. It surprised me. He said to Mom, we trust her to go to boarding school. That means we trust her to make her own decisions. He was a bit alarmed that I’d started in eighth grade, but he was also rather pleased it was with you."

"Really?" I laughed.

"Yeah. ‘Better Eddie than that Don Nixon character, at least my girl has taste.’ he said. I cracked up. But he settled Mom down. How’s yours?"

"Better."

"That’s good." We discussed the arrangements for Mom and I picking her up for the wake.

Later, the phone rang for Mom. When she got off of it, she came over to me, concerned. "That was Lydia. There’s something I have to warn you about."

She really didn’t. It had happened the first time around. Hell, the warning had happened the first time around. Not that it helped, mind you. I knew what was going to happen.

We went to the wake for the night-time viewing. We picked Kara up around seven. She held my hand the whole way to the funeral home, and held my hand as we walked in. I needed it. Even having seen it before, having been warned it was going to happen again, I knew that I was still going to feel like I’d been kicked in the balls.

It was an open casket wake. I swear, she looked alive. She looked like, any minute, she was going to sit up, grin at me, and start teasing Kara and I. Except, she wasn’t wearing normal clothes. She was wearing her best dress--a dress so nice she’d only worn it once in her life.

To a semi-formal dance.

That’s what the warning was about; that they were going to bury her in That Dress. It didn’t matter--the warning, I mean. I’d been warned, I lived through it once before, and seeing it still made me feel like every bit of air had been pushed out of my lungs.

Kara caught it. She looked at me. I explained about the dress. She sighed and pulled her arm around mine tighter.

This time around, there was even an addition. The pendant I’d given her for her birthday was still around her neck.

I paid my respects, but didn’t linger. I had to get out of there. Mom was still inside paying her respects, but Kara came out with me.

That’s when I truly lost it. Seeing her, dead, in that damn dress again--that’s when I lost it. I sat on a patch of grass off to the side, at the back of the parking lot, and just cried uncontrollably, while Kara tried to calm me down. Outside, I was crying. Inside? I was screaming, cursing, berating whoever or whatever decided that it would be a fine idea for me to live through this nightmare a second time. Once wasn’t fucking enough? Who the fuck decided this?

However, having Kara next to me, holding me, rubbing my back--well, it produced another one of those moments of perfect clarity. This time was different. Last time, I’d been basically alone.

After I pulled myself back together, and we went back out towards the front of the funeral home to wait for my mother, I realized truly how not alone I was. Stan came by. Danica. Even Bob Golan and Joe Vizcano. "Beth was good people. She’ll be missed," Joe said.

Yes, Kelly came. She even gave me a quick hug before she disappeared inside.

Mom drove Kara home, then we went home. I went upstairs, just completely emotionally spent. Unfortunately, it wasn’t over.

Getting into my suit that morning, I looked up into the sky. "Beth, if you’re right and there is an afterlife, when I get up there, I’m going to get you for this."

I didn’t want to do this, at all. But I’d promised.

Kara came with us again. We picked her up, and then my Grandmother. Dad made arrangements to stay home with my brother and sister. Kara sat in the back seat with me and held my hand the whole way to the church. She’d assigned herself a mission--get Eddie through this. One of these days I hoped I’d be able to tell her how grateful I was.

We got to the church. I’m not a fan of churches, and I’m not big on public speaking either. But, like I said, I’d made a promise. I’d thought a lot about what I wanted to say. And I realized it might upset some people sitting there. But I had to say what I felt.

Her oldest brother got up and spoke, and then her dad. Her mother was in no condition to do anything like that. When her dad got done, he said, "One of Beth’s last wishes was for one more speaker. She asked her best friend, Ed Bovilas, to say a few words."

I took a deep breath, squeezed Kara’s hand, and walked up onto the altar.

"I last saw Beth exactly one week ago," I started. "I went to the hospital. As some of you may know, she’d requested no visitors in the hospital. I went anyway. Beth was 9 months older than I am, and far more mature, so there was always a bit of big-sister in her relationship with me. And she would tell you that she wasn’t surprised I showed up at the hospital, because that was our usual pattern: she told me what to do, and I ignored her." That got a little chuckle.

"Of course, some things you can’t ignore. I’m here because she asked me to, when I saw her last week. I cracked up laughing. I told her she was nuts. Because she knows me well enough to know what I might say. ‘You’re sure you want me to do this?’ I asked her. She was sure. So, just remember--this is all her fault." I managed to grin as I said that, and saw quite a few little smiles on the faces of the people in the pews.

"You see, I know how funerals go. We’ve all heard it already today. We’ve been told that God took her home and that she’s in a better place. Well, I’m not sure I believe any of that. And that’s probably not the thing to say in a Catholic church, but I have doubts. I certainly hope Beth’s in a better place, and I can assure you that she believed, right until the last, that there was and she was headed there. Beth and I had quite a few long philosophical discussions, especially in the last couple of years while she was sick. And, as she once said, we never agreed on anything, but it was good to talk it out.

"I know Beth took great comfort in her beliefs. There are many of you out there taking great comfort in the same beliefs. I can’t do that. So, that’s not what I’m going to talk to you about today. I’m not going to assure you she’s in a better place, because I’m not sure about that.

"What I am going to tell you, is that we are in a better place. Every single one of us in this church is in a better place than we would have been, because Beth Trovini was in our lives.

"Beth spent fifteen and a half years with us. I knew her for all but nine months of that time. Some of you knew her her whole life, some of you a lot less. Every single one of us is lucky, for however long we had her.

"There are some people out there, friends of mine, who met Beth through me. And many of them in the past couple of days have come up to me and thanked me for introducing them to her. That says nothing about me, I was just the friend-of-a-friend in the right place at the right time. But it says volumes about Beth.

"My joking about ignoring her aside, the truth is I learned a lot from her. I learned a lot about love and compassion, about friendship, and about grace and courage and dignity. We talked about everything and anything. There are things about me that nobody on earth knew, except Beth. I would’ve trusted her with my life. And I learned a lot of that from her.

"I will carry a piece of Beth around with me for the rest of my life. I know that much. I know that’s not the type of afterlife she had in mind. Maybe she’s right. But, whether or not she was right, she’ll have an afterlife. Always. Right here," and I pointed at my chest. "In my heart, and in the heart of every person that was lucky enough to know her.

"We’re all faced with the reality of a life without Beth in it, and I know that prospect fills me with dread. But this is what I keep coming back to: the years I did have her in my life. I will cherish them always. Because she made me a better person, just for having been there for fifteen years. I think we can all say that. Mourning her death is inevitable, and understandable. But we need to remind ourselves to celebrate her life, too. Because, although it was far too short, it was a life worth celebrating.

"I love you, Beffy. Forever and always."

I kept my composure through the whole thing, and managed to not start crying until I got back to my seat. Beth would’ve been proud of me for that.

------------------

It actually went over well, better than I had expected. Even her parents pulled me aside. Her dad shook my hand and her mom hugged me. "I do believe she is in a better place," her Dad said, "but you said things that needed to be said. Especially the life worth celebrating part. She’d be glad you said that."

That meant a lot to me.

We went to the cemetary, but didn’t go over the Trovini’s house afterwards. I was too drained for that. Mom drove Gram home, then we all went back to our house, including Kara.

Dad left to go do a job, and Mom took my brother and sister out shopping. "Three hours we’ll be gone," she said to me pointedly. In other words, if you’re going to do anything, get it done in three hours. That was pretty cool, considering how she’d initially reacted.

We went upstairs, and put on some music. "If you’re too drained, we don’t have to do anything," she said.

"I dunno," I said. "Thursday night just kind of happened. I’m just afraid of getting close to you again, and having you go back to Andrews and find a new guy there."

"I’ve been thinking about that. I was thinking about it before Beth died, but her dying made me really think about it. Maybe we should give this a shot. Eddie, I still love you, with all my heart. We’re a little older. Maybe we can make a long-distance relationship work. I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But maybe we should give it a try."

"I don’t know if I could hold you to that."

"You wouldn’t have to. I would. Look, I know it’s been a horrible and hectic weekend. Just think about it, OK?"

"OK." We didn’t end up making love, which was fine. We just cuddled and talked instead. The next day, she headed back to Andrews. Luckily, I’d see her again in a few weeks when she came home for Thanksgiving.

A Monday, and I went back to school.

More people that I had realized had gone to Beth’s funeral, because I got a lot of comments on my eulogy. Like I said, it went over better than I thought it would. But it was school, and I had work to do. Life goes on.

However, Beth’s death had changed a few things. I went and sat down with Stan at lunch, and his buddies were there, including Rob. That didn’t stop Danica from coming and sitting at the table, and she was even cordial to Rob. I brought Olivia to sit with us, because she needed something to hold on to. Kelly still didn’t sit with us, but had smiled at me on the bus. The big surprise, though, at the lunch table was Michelle.

"How you doing?" she asked me.

"Decent. All things considered. Where’s Mike?"

"History," she snorted. "I dumped him yesterday. Did you notice I went to the wake and the funeral alone? He wouldn’t even come to support me. That was the final straw. He’s just become so insensitive. I couldn’t take any more of it."

"Ah. Well, I’m sorry, but I think you did the right thing."

"I know I did," she said.

"I have to admit, though, that when you guys came back to school from summer vacation, it seemed like you had gotten closer."

"We had," she said. "But when we got to school..." She sighed. "He’s a different person around his friends. I really thought I liked him a lot. But it was all an act. His real self came out around his friends."

"That’s too bad," I said.

"Ah, well. Live and learn. Next time I’ll know better. I’ll spend time with a guy and his friends before I go out with him." I had to grin at that. "What?" she said.

I just flicked my eyes towards the end of the table, where, a few seats down, sat Stan. "You hang out with all of his friends," I said.

She got this huge smile. "I know. And he’s great to hang out with when he’s with his friends, isn’t he?"

"Yup," I agreed.

Life goes on. I managed.

Good things happened. The crew tightened up--the group of friends, I mean. Olivia was coming out of her funk somewhat. Stan and Michelle were talking again, at least. The rest of us started hanging around and eating lunch together. There were even a few additions--Stan had befriended this guy from West Cabot named Kenny Russell, and he was cool. Since he was from West JHS, I hadn’t known him the first time around. I liked him a lot, he was funny and interesting.

Of course, there were a few among the missing, too. Beth goes without saying. Kelly was the other one. She’d seemingly carved out a new group of friends in her desperation to avoid me.

I didn’t even see her on the bus anymore--she’d moved, a week ago, to West Cabot. It was a move long overdue--she’d been sharing a bedroom with both of her sisters, and that bedroom was too small for three people. Patrick had it worse--I’d been in his bedroom many times growing up, and it was a glorified closet. I’m not kidding. The bed fit, and that was about it. He even had to keep his dresser out in the hallway. That house on Williams Rd. just wasn’t meant for a family of six. So, Mr. Cullinane had a new one built, finally. Bob Golan, who still hung with Patrick even though Patrick was at the Prep, told me that they were all thrilled.

But now I really never saw Kelly.

It bothered me. We should’ve at least been able to stay friends.

I was tired of loss. No, this didn’t compare to the loss of Beth, not by a long shot. But I was tired of people disappearing from my life.

I had thought a lot about that, because now I had someone who had, in some ways, disappeared from my life--but now wanted back in.

I truly loved Kara. Our breakup, even though it was for damn good reasons, and even though we remained good friends, was a type of loss. A very mild one, to be sure, but it was still a loss. Still, I had to think about her suggestion that we try again. Because long distance relationships were not easy, and I knew that from first-life experience.

Then, there was Kelly. I’ll admit it--I missed her. If I considered going back to Kara, would I be doing it just to make up for not having Kelly? I thought a lot about that.

I came to the conclusion that, no, I wouldn’t. As I said, I truly loved Kara. I loved Kelly, too. I’m not making comparisons. I loved them both--in slightly different ways, but I loved them both. And it wasn’t as though I was being forced to make a choice, because Kelly had gone away from my life.

Still, I knew it was weird. I was considering getting back together with my first girlfriend, who just so happened to be the best friend of my most recent ex-girlfriend. I’m not for a minute claiming this was normal! But I resolved that part of it in my mind. So, I just had to resolve the long-distance part. We’d not see each other a lot. That wasn’t going to be easy.

Of course, in some ways, it make things easier. I’d be able to concentrate on my studies. I’d be able to hang with my friends. A long-distance relationship is by definition less time-consuming. But it’s also by definition less intimate, because of the time gaps.

I thought a lot about it for a couple weeks. Then, I made my decision.

I went to see Kara on this day, Saturday the seventeenth. Because she went to a private school, she had a fairly strange schedule. One of the quirks of her schedule was a full week off for Thanksgiving. So, she had actually come home late on the night of the sixteenth. On the seventeenth, I went to her house to see her.

I got there about noon. She was very happy to see me. As an added bonus, her house was empty. "How did that happen?" I asked her.

"Dad suddenly decided he wanted everyone to go out. Except me, of course, I was too tired after coming home from school," she said with a conspiratorial little grin. "They’re gone for the whole afternoon. Dad’s really being very cool about this. Much to my surprise."

"Good." She walked into my arms and gave me a deep soul-kiss.

"Oooh, I needed that," she said.

"Yep, me too," I agreed. I took her hand and led her to the couch in her living room. "Let’s talk."

"OK," she said.

"I want to give it a shot. Going out again, I mean. Let’s see if we can make it work."

"YES!" she hissed, and launched herself into my lap, kissing me all over my face.

I had to laugh, which made her giggle right back. "I’m glad you’re so happy about it," I told her.

"I haven’t met anyone like you," she said. "I keep trying, but I haven’t met anyone that comes close." She looked at me, and said very softly, "I know you have. That’s why I was worried you’d say no."

"I’m not going to lie to you. I loved Kelly. But I always loved you, too. And Kelly’s not here."

"And if Kelly was here, I wouldn’t have asked. But I really do miss you. I know it’s going to be tough, but I want to try."

"I do, too."

"Good," she said, and stood up. "Let’s go upstairs."

"I think I can manage that," I said with a grin.

When we made love a few weeks ago, the day of Beth’s death, I think it was more of an emotional experience than a physical one. I think my body was almost on auto-pilot, if that makes any sense.

So, there were a few things I hadn’t realized--things I realized more today. Kara had changed--in bed, I mean. She’d always been enthusiastic, but now she was more demonstrative, more sure of what she liked. I’d guessed this was because, as she’d told me, she had to ‘train’ her two boyfriends after me!

Me, she didn’t have to train, and she knew it. I guess she was just used to it. Not that I was complaining, mind you. We got into some naked fondling, and Kara very sweetly asked, "Uhm, would you go down on me?" Like she had to ask! I just grinned at her, and started kissing my way down her lovely body.

In fact, it was more lovely. Kara had filled out some. No big surprise, she was 15 now, almost 15 1/2. She was still slender, but had a bit more padding in all the fun areas. Believe me, complaining I was not.

She noticed the same about me. As I kissed my way down her neck, heading for boobies, she ran her hand down my arm. "You’re still working out, aren’t you? Muscles," she giggled.

"Yep," I told her, then went back to kissing.

"I like it," she said, still running her hand up and down my bicep. "I like that, too," she laughed, when I latched my mouth around her nipple.

I lingered there a bit, and then started moving my way down, heading for her pussy. Hey, she’d asked, right? Of course, I would’ve headed there anyway!

As I said, she’d gotten more demonstrative. I went down on her and she started squealing and panting to beat the band. I slipped a finger into her pussy and she immediately started humping up and down on it. As I slipped my mouth over her clit, she hissed, "I forgot how good you were at this!" Which was nice to hear!

After she came, I moved up on top of her and slipped inside her. Again, her demonstrativeness was pronounced. She immediately started bucking back up against me, complete with moaning and yelping. She came twice more before I did. It was great.

Afterwards, cuddled up to me, she said, "Oh, man, did I miss this!" I could only agree. My first true love, back in my arms--it was wonderful.

So, I was back in the world of romantic turmoil. Not that this was a bad thing, mind you, though how Kara and I handled the whole long-distance thing remained to be seen.

As it turns out, I wasn’t the only one. Stan introduced me to his new girlfriend, Christy, today.

I was surprised. "What about Michelle?" I asked him as we sat waiting for our respective busses after school.

Stan shrugged. "I’d already gone out with Christy once or twice before Michelle dumped Mike. Besides which, I really like her. I think she’s more my speed than Michelle is."

"Hey, as long as you’re happy," I told him. I didn’t know Christy well, but she seemed sweet and nice. And she plainly adored Stan, which was cool.

Michelle actually took it well. "Hey, I went out with Mike, right? Maybe Stan and I just weren’t meant to be. As long as we’re friends, that’s what matters."

Olivia also seemed to have glommed on to some guy, another semi-reprobate like her last boyfriend. She’d been leaning on me pretty heavily in the few weeks since Beth’s death, but now she seemed to be turning to this other guy for comfort. I worried about her, but I had enough going on, believe me.

This was actually the easy part of a long-distance relationship. Kara had been home for Thanksgiving, went back to school for a few weeks, then came back home for her three-week Christmas break. The separation then wasn’t bad at all. It was spring semester, when I probably wouldn’t see her from early January until early March, that was going to be the test.

I’m a little kid when it comes to Christmas, so I enjoyed having a serious girlfriend at that time of the year. I took the money I’d been making with my dad and bought Kara a ton of stuff--a necklace, clothes, records, the whole bit.

We got together on Christmas Eve, since we had to spend Christmas with our families. But Kara came over my house on Christmas Eve and we traded gifts then. She loved everything I had gotten her, and she got me some cool stuff, too.

It was good to have her home.

We got together again this night, New Year’s Eve. We didn’t go to a party, although there were a few. We just spent the evening at my house. My parents went out, and my brother and sister were over my grandmother’s.

Kara and I, of course, made love. Then we just hung around downstairs, watching TV, chatting, waiting to watch the big ball come down in Times Square. It did, we kissed, and then just sprawled out on the couch in each other’s arms, until my parents got home about one in the morning. Dad drove Kara home.

Lying in bed afterwards, I thought about a lot of things.

The seventies were over. The eighties had just begun.

Back in the old life, I’d considered myself a ‘child of the eighties,’ but I realized now I was always mostly talking about music. Besides my sixties favorites like the Beatles and Beach Boys, artists that were identified with the eighties were what I listened to. Of course, a lot of them actually had already gotten started by the time 1980 rolled around--as the presence of the first couple of Elvis Costello albums already in my collection testified to. So, that part of it had already gotten started.

A few other things that signified the eighties had gotten started, too. It took me a while to take note of them, because of Beth, and that had happened the first time, too. The Iranians took the hostages in the US Embassy a few days after Beth died. It took me a bit, I’ll admit, to notice. This probably isn’t very complimentary to me, but it took me even longer to really care. Moreso this time around, because I was more attuned to it.

Of course, some other things just made me think of things to come. The USSR invading Afghanistan, for instance. We were all up in arms about that--President Carter was going to boycott the Moscow Olympics and so on. I felt like saying to everyone, "Just calm down. In ten years there won’t be a USSR and this will all look like the dark ages." Of course, I couldn’t!

Of course, the hostages and the Russians-in-Afghanistan thing helped lead to another of the signature things of the eighties--the Reagan presidency. Look, I’m not going to apologize for it--I’m a liberal. I thought Reagan was a disaster. Knowing what was coming, I wasn’t looking forward to it.

That’s when I thought about stopping it. Hey, I had foreknowledge, right? I could try to change things that I thought were bad, right?

It only lasted a minute. First of all, how? Reagan was elected fair and square. The only way to prevent it was to change people’s minds. How could one fifteen-year-old boy do that? Besides which, there were people who you’d never be able to persuade anyhow.

But that wasn’t the big thing in my mind. The big thing in my mind was playing God.

Look, it was a tenet of Reagan’s boosters that he somehow was responsible for ‘winning’ the Cold War; that it was because of him that the USSR imploded. Now, having been a student of the USSR in the old life, I didn’t buy that for a minute. The USSR was broke and heading for ruin years before Reagan came along; and Gorbachev, for one, knew it. So, I didn’t give Reagan much credit for the USSR’s end.

However, what if he were responsible at all?

I considered the end of the USSR to be a very good thing. Bovilas is a Lithuanian surname, OK? There were relatives, second cousins and the like, that my family had lost touch with after World War Two. In other words, they’d been deported to Siberia, or worse, simply for the ‘crime’ of being Lithuanian. It wasn’t uncommon. I might be a liberal, but I was no apologist for the murderous scum in Moscow. (The Russian ‘communists’ were nothing more than fascists with a sheen of ideology anyhow.)

So, I was dearly glad to see the USSR vanish. That made me think. What if Reagan had anything to do with it? After Gorbachev assumed power, Reagan did handle the situation adroitly for the most part. So, did Reagan give Gorbachev the breathing space he needed? Possibly.

That’s what got me thinking about playing God. Because it got me worried. Look, in a very small sense, I’d already changed lives, purely because things that hadn’t happened the first time around did this time around. How much had I changed Kara? Or--and this wasn’t as good a thought--Kelly? Or, the opposite--the people from the Prep that I didn’t meet this time around?

This was all too much to contemplate at one thirty in the morning, let me tell you.

However, that was me for you. I’d long been wont to mental flights of fancy at ungodly hours of the morning. I guess it had been triggered this time by knowing and realizing I was really going to have to relive The Eighties.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how much of a watershed year 1979 had been. It was in the old life, because of Beth. It was this time around because of Beth and a whole lot more. I realized it had been in the ‘wider world’ as well.

I’d been back for a little over two years. And I was starting to feel older. Look, I know I was technically an ‘adult’ memory-wise and had been since the send-back. However, I was still dealing with an adolescent brain. There had been research done right before I was sent back that talked about how adolescent brains weren’t completely matured, and didn’t get so until about twenty. So, chronologically I might be almost 45, but my brain wasn’t quite 15.

Moreover, I was dealing with an almost-fifteen body, as well, and all that implied. Plus, my life was that of an adolescent. Adolescents get preoccupied.

And, since my return, I’d had a damn good reason to be preoccupied--Beth.

Now Beth was gone. Maybe that’s why this stuff started popping into my brain.

Look, it wasn’t quite the same, and I know it. I was more mature. The old me at this age could’ve never been able to handle a long-distance relationship. Honestly, I don’t know if the old me at this age could’ve handled any kind of relationship at all, especially one with Kara.

But, that’s what I had been turned into in a lot of ways...a mature fourteen-year-old. Not an adult. I looked at someone like Kara. I wasn’t much more mature than she was. Some other people, yes, but it still wasn’t a wide gap.

Still, I had all these memories. And those memories had become predictions. And I didn’t know what to do with them. And the thought of playing God really did scare me.

Look, a political election was minor, really. There was some shit that was about to come down the pike. Could I prevent it? How? Should I even try?

I was growing up. Unfortunately, it was growing up for a second time, and I had knowledge I shouldn’t have, and I didn’t know what to do with it, and I was suddenly afraid it was going to drive me crazy.

I couldn’t let it. I knew that much. I still had to get through life. I needed to make something of myself first, or I’d end up in the same rut--and in that rut I wasn’t any good to anyone.

That was what was keeping me up until the wee hours of the morning as the seventies turned into the eighties. My life was an anamoly. And I didn’t know how to fix it.

I wished Beth were here. Not for the first time, and, I could guess, certainly not for the last.

But there was no Beth. Just a confused man-boy, groping for answers. But there were no answers, either. No Beth, no answers, no help.

It was 1980. And I wasn’t looking forward to it.