--- Two months later ---

Ray

I lean my head back on the couch in this rustic, cozy study. I stare into the lights, twiddling my thumbs as I wait for Dr Denver to come in.

I’ve been seeing Dr Denver for the better part of two months now, and the atmosphere of this warm study never fails to comfort me. The entire space feels so far removed from the rest of the world, like it was uprooted from another universe or time period. The dim lights, the wooden furniture, the bookcases lined with books…it feels like a warm, cozy hug. This entire space is a refuge, an escape, from the world, and I’m thankful for it.

Kit would’ve loved this.

Dr Denver swings the door open before coming in. He has quite the affinity towards grand entrances. He waves his hand at me. “Hi Ray! How are you?” The bright and cheery smile plastered on his face hasn’t waned one bit since we first met.

I wave my hand back at him. “I’m fine.”

Dr Denver walks across to the couch, where he makes himself comfortable, before propping his clipboard up on his lap, as is routine for him at this point. Does he even have to think when doing any of this anymore?

“Do you have your journal today?” I nod, taking it from my backpack. The journal is now significantly worn out from two months of constant scribbling and doodling on it, but it still means a lot to me.

Dr Denver looks at his clipboard for a moment. “I was flipping through our session notes, and I realised we haven’t taken a look at your journal in a while. So…how about we revisit it now?” He glances up, studying the look on my face. “No pressure, of course. If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s fine too.”

I flip to a random page in the journal. I start reading it to myself, as I’ve done a few times already. “November 14th. We were at the skate park again today. Wade taught me how to do an ollie. Sailing through the air for the first time, I felt…weightless. In that moment, as the wind brushed my skin, it felt like I was detached from life itself, and there was nothing around me that could weigh me down. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, and it lasted for all of one second, but I’ll never forget that warm fuzzy feeling.”

Dr Denver flips through his clipboard, searching through his notes. “I don’t believe I’ve heard anything about this before. Who is Wade?”

“He’s from the journalism club. The same club that Jax is in. He’s been teaching me skateboarding for quite a while now. He’s really good at it, too.”

I’ve been practising with him over at the skate park opposite the school. It’s surprisingly empty, which plays to our advantage. Most of the time I’ve spent so far has been learning how to balance on it, though I’ve also picked up a trick or two. Wade says I’m a pretty fast learner. I’m still not great at it, but I’m slowly getting better.

Sometimes Iris joins us. She’s great at it, too, arguably even better than Wade. I remember one time, while I was catching a breather, the two of them were trying to one-up each other for fun. My jaw dropped when they started pulling off so many tricks that I could never dream of, and without even breaking a sweat. They made it look so effortless! I reckon they’ve been doing this for years at this point. Wade told me that he actually met Iris at the skate park, and that’s how they ended up becoming friends. It’s also how Iris joined the journalism club.

It’s hard to describe just how much has happened in the past two months. It’s been nothing short of a whirlwind of events.

The week after my run-in with Jax, he invited me to one of his club meetings. It was there that I first met the rest of the journalism club. It still boggles my mind to think the school magazine is put together by just four people. They’re great people too, if quite eccentric. They were having the magazine printed that day. Jax was running back and forth to get the printed magazines from the copy machine, while the rest of us stayed behind to staple in an extra piece of paper that Jax had gone to print earlier, containing that article that he’d told me about.

As for the article itself, the fallout of its release was immediate. It opened an outlet for many to share their fears and traumas. I’ve noticed that the hallways are more lively now. Hallway chatter has gradually returned. People are now more willing to confide in each other. Things haven’t fully returned to normal, and it’ll be a while before people stop bringing it up, but everyone’s starting to heal.

It’s also sparked a newfound anger within the school body. There was a lot of dissent towards the increased security measures that served as reminders of the events of that day. For days on end there was an organised protest, led by the student council, with students clamouring outside the school, holding up a banner that read “Stop fighting metal with metal”. It was riveting to see this many students up in arms, speaking out about it.

The school threatened punishments to those involved in the protests in an effort to deter them, but that only added fuel to the fire. Eventually, as tensions approached boiling point, the principal held a referendum on it. By the end, it was clear that the increased security measures could not continue.

The police presence was removed that same week. The metal detectors are still sitting there, deactivated, and they’ll only be removed during winter break. For now, the school has settled on doing occasional bag checks, which is way less in-your-face than what the school had before. The school has also started a life support group, courtesy of Mr Myers. From what I can gather, it’s basically an AA meeting for people in need of emotional support.

Thinking about all of this makes me start thinking about that moment, two months ago, when Jax and I were sitting under that tree, and he was hugging me…

“Dr Denver…I know I haven’t talked about this before, but…”

“You can tell me anything.”

Okay. Here goes. “How do you grapple with knowing that nothing is permanent, that someday everything will come to an end?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Explain.”

“Between Kit’s death and everything that’s happened since, I can’t stop thinking about what it means for something to end. Sometimes I can live in the moment, but other times I still find myself thinking of him. Even though I now have people like Jax and Wade to rely on, I still fear that one day, and I don’t know when…all of this will pass. It’s like a part of him still lingers, a part of him has left its mark on me, and even when I think I’ve recovered from it, even when I think I’ve moved on…it’s like a part of him’s still there, still affecting me deep down.”

He puts his hands onto my shoulders, looking me in the eye. “Moving on is hard. For everyone. Especially when you’ve known them for so long, and especially when you don’t get a say in when or how you’d like to say goodbye. We’ve all been there.

“There’s a sense of finality to it all. Everything that you’ve ever known has ended or will end. It’s almost like the memento mori in that respect. It’s also a psychological defence mechanism, because deep down you don’t want to be hurt like that again. At the same time, though, it means you cared, and you still do care. And that counts for something, doesn’t it?

“I can’t speak about the future. What I can say, however, is that right now, you have people around you, who care for you and are actively looking out for you. Jax. Wade. And, most of all…” Dr Denver takes my hand. “You have me.”

My mind feels so overwhelmed. I don’t know why I do it, but I immediately pull Dr Denver into a hug, crying onto his shoulder. As Dr Denver reciprocates the gesture, gently patting my back, whispering “there, there”. In the moment there’s a fuzzy feeling emanating within my heart. I lean onto Dr Denver’s shoulder, letting the tears in my eyes trickle down from my eyelids. All I can hear, echoing in my mind, is Rose saying to Jack, just before he drifts into the ocean depths, “I’ll never let go. I promise.” This confirms what I already know. I don’t want to lose what I have now. I don’t want this to end…

An hour flies by, and before l realise it the session is already over.

“You’ve made so much progress these last few months. I can’t even begin to express just how proud I am.”

I turn away from Dr Denver as my cheeks flush. I’m still not used to receiving compliments like that. Maybe one day, though. I wave my hand at him as we bid farewell.

I grab my skateboard from my bag. As I’m about to hop onto it, I turn my phone on to see several unread messages from Jax.

Jax

I sit at an empty table in a quiet cafe, checking my messages while sipping away at my hot cocoa.

Where is Ray? I’ve been waiting half an hour for him. He said he has therapy today, but it should be over by now…

Ever since we released that article, I’ve been spending a lot of time with him. After school, when Ray isn’t busy learning skateboarding, we would frequent a small cafe on the way home, fittingly called the “Life Cafe”. It isn’t so much a place for food as it is a place for us to catch up on life. Funnily enough, life itself seems to slow down within the cafe. It’s quaint and laid-back, and the owners are nice.

Part of the reason we’ve been going there so often is to kill time. Ever since we’d published that article, we’ve had a lot more of it on our hands. And not by choice.

***

“I think we both know why you’re here today, Jax.” The principal sits upright at one side of a wooden desk, staring straight at me. I sit alone on a chair at the other side of the desk. There’s an unspoken, yet very clear boundary between my side and hers.

This is the same room I’ve stormed into on multiple occasions to fight for certain articles in the school magazine. But now, the tables have turned. It’s unnerving to come to terms with the fact that in this situation, I am not in control, and I no longer wield any power. This is not a court of law. The principal is the one in control, and all I can do is pray that she doesn’t do anything extreme.

Still, I do not falter. My face hardens as I nod solemnly, my arms crossed. There’s nothing to be said, when the outcome remains the same either way.

The principal presses the offensive. “So, why did you do it?”

“If you cared to notice that school morale is at an all-time low, you would know.” I know I’m on thin ice, but I felt the need to stand my ground.

“Watch your tone, young man.” She raises her voice at me. I roll my eyes.

She continues, eyeing me sternly. “I think we both know that wasn’t the only thing that article was meant to do. If anything, I have reason to believe that the article has something to do with the unrest that’s been happening on school grounds.”

“I was just saying what everyone had trouble finding the words for. There’s nothing more to it.” I retort defensively.

“That’s exactly what I mean. You knew what you were doing. You wrote it in such a way that would incite strong emotions from people. I think you know as well as I do what that’s led to.” She’s, of course, referring to the group of students outside the school right this minute, protesting the security measures.

She takes a sip from the glass of water on her desk. “Ordinarily, I would charge you with circulation of unauthorised material. There would have been detention, and this would have gone on your permanent record. But there were several teachers that came to your defence, saying that your article has helped with school morale. I am inclined to agree.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’ve decided on a lighter punishment. I’m suspending your involvement in the journalism club until winter break.”

In that moment, I feel my stomach drop. What? I get that this is better than having it on my record, but…

I start raising my voice in protest. “I cannot accede to this. I refuse!”

The principal is used to butting heads with me already. She replies emphatically, “It is so ordered.”

In a moment of rage, I slam the desk with my fist, staring up at her in an act of defiance. “You can give me detention, but leave the club out of this!”

This does not seem to faze her. “I think you would be smart not to add defiance to the list. You are already on very thin ice.” She’s already won, and she knows it. There’s no use arguing any further. “You may go.”

I start seething to myself, clenching my fists, as I storm out of her office.

Ray is waiting for me in the hallway. His eyes light up as he spots me storming out the door. “So, how’d it go?”

I sigh, in frustration and in defeat. “Good news? This is staying out of my record. Bad news? Let’s just say I won’t be able to attend club meetings for a little while. That is, until at least winter break.”

“What happens to the club then?”

“I’ll tell them later. I’m sure they’ll figure something out.”

***

The journalism club chat starts exploding with messages again.

Iris: I’m calling an emergency meeting tomorrow. I need everyone at the Life Cafe. Even you, Lumi.

Wade: i gotta meet ray at the sk8park tmr -_-

Lumi: i gotta help with tomorrow’s life support meeting :<

Iris: At the rate we’re going, we’re not getting next month’s school magazine done in time. I need all hands on deck. Bring your laptops.

Wade: so were doomed then huh (－‸ლ)

Jax: oh my god are you guys actually serious

Lumi: i’ve been helping mr myers with the life support group. i haven’t had time to help them work on it :

Jax: mind if I come tomorrow to help you guys?

Iris: Sure, knock yourself out. I need all the help I can get.

Lumi: i still gotta help out with the life support group, so…can i not come for tomorrow’s meeting? :3

Wade: what about me (◕_◕)

Iris: Sigh.

Never change, you guys. Never change.

Ray bursts into the cafe, still holding onto his skateboard. His forehead is full of sweat, and his hair is in a mess. “Sorry! My session ended late today, so…” He stops to catch his breath.

I pat his back to ease his breathing, before helping him over to our usual spot in the cafe, in the seat opposite mine.

Once his breathing slows, he asks, “What is it that you wanted to tell me?”

“Mrs. Kono is having a small Thanksgiving dinner this Saturday, and she invited us. Do you wanna come?”

Ray initially seems hesitant. “I haven’t seen her in a while, not since he…I don’t know what I would even begin to say to her.”

“She talks glowingly about you, you know. About you being a great friend to him. She says she’d like to see you again.” And that was true. Mrs. Kono seemed to find joy in talking about their friendship, about how close they were, and how much it helped Kit find his footing in the otherwise tumultuous period that is high school.

Ray takes a deep breath, his voice still slightly uncertain. “Sure.”