[color=f28500][right][h3]Jamie Drummond & Ash Mareino
12:49 PM[/h3][/right][/color]

Jamie was having a good day, for the most part. Plastic container of baked goods under his arm that was still vaguely warm from Home Ec, tray in his other hand filled with all the various ‘goodies’ that the school offered for lunch. It always went downhill after the first day back, but he could enjoy the quality while it lasted. The weather was warm, too. Sunny enough for him to wander outside to eat at the boulders by the lake as he often did, at least when Ash was there.

Warmth almost allowed him to forget what Aveline had told him this morning, silently of course: “[i]Mrs. Wellington would like to speak to you after school today.[/i]” It made him want to sigh again, if only because the other option was to rage out against being forced into a meeting with the crazy Soviet girl to probably [i]apologise[/i]. 

He already had. Anything more was Unfair with a capital ‘u’.

Jamie had been late for lunch so was unsurprised to see the grounds of Northwood quite busy with students who’d scarfed down their lunch in order to head outside and explore. He’d been one of them once, a Freshman. Even as a Sophomore the school held beauty, poise… And now he was being [i]arty[/i] again – he ought to stop that.

Halfway there he veered sharply right, heading around the gravel path to the Gym, or more precisely its roof. There was probably something wrong with him, being so attuned to Ash’s emotions to know that she was definitely [i]not[/i] at the lake and that there was only one possible place for her to be: the roof. The stairs would be a trek.

The door at the top of the service stairwell was already wedged open with an old baseball bat. Nobody used the Gym’s roof (and why would they?) so it was therefore the perfect place for some peace and quiet.

With Ash.

[i]Stop blushing – you’re a state,[/i] Jamie chastised himself, approaching Ash where she sat in the shade of one of the large air ducts. Wordlessly he took a seat, [i]finally[/i] getting to eat… but not before saying (mid-chew), “This is our last year, y’know.” 

Ash nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be weird not coming back here next year.” Ash bit into her apple, then paused, “I don’t even know what I’m going to do next year. Dad wants me to go to college. What about you? Any plans?” Fleeting hope, like the sun breaking through clouds over the sea.

“Might take a break for a year – travel while I work some stuff out.” Jamie looked up at the sky. Would he be coming on too strong if he asked her to tag along? It wasn’t like he couldn’t pay for it.

“I enjoyed the road trip with my brother on the way here. That’d be a lot of fun.” 

[i]Christ, just go for it.[/i] “You should tag along, yeah? We can hit South America. Peru, Machu Picchu?” A horrible mispronunciation but Jamie didn’t particularly care. Joy like the swell of a tide – a [i]gnarly[/i] one that surfers anywhere would be envious of. It was so strong that Jamie could almost hear the churning currents in his left ear.

“Really? You’d have me along? I’d have to ask my folks, but after November they can’t really force me into anything I guess.” 

“Of course I would,” Jamie said quickly as if he hadn’t even considered any other option. “Besides, my dad already considers you an honorary Drummond given how much I–.” [i]Stop right there.[/i] “Mention you in letters, and it’s practically a rite of passage for us to go backpacking. Plus it gives you an extra year to work out what you’re gonna do.” Smooth.

“I’d love that, thank you. Getting away from it all.” Ash sighed and leaned back against the air duct.

“It’s no problem. Wouldn’t want to run away from Amazonian cannibals with anyone else.” Jamie let out a nervous laugh. “We’ll be backpacking, probably, so prepare yourself f-for–”

He coughed out of the blue, like he was choking on air. [i]Thin[/i] air. There wasn’t enough of it for him to catch his breath after he’d finished coughing a few moments later. “Should probably quit smokin’ – must’ve caught something...”

And again, but slower. His breathing became shallower and no matter how much he tried to take in air, he couldn’t – he was suffocating and all the air in the world – couldn’t… Something was wrong, so very wrong, and Jamie knew it in his bones, in the wheeze of his chest as the world narrowed down to a very dull point. Uncertain waters – that’s what Ash’s look resonated with. Didn’t have enough damn focus to translate it.

While he still had sense, disjointed though it was, he reassured himself with the knowledge that it wasn’t a heart attack or anything like that. It was emotions, pure and simple, and he knew who they were from...

Arro Jenkins.

It was Natalie Coleman all over again.

“Ash… when I faint – r-right, when I faint? Don’t get – help. ‘N don’t worry...” Did he manage a grin? He certainly tried.

“Jamie? Jamie are you okay?” If he just closed his eyes, he could allow himself to be carried away by the riptide: fast, quick. He understood that one. It was panic. Ash’s panic.

There was an unbearable pressure in a part of his chest that most people didn’t even realise existed: the part where anxious butterflies were born; where deep, human passion came from; that Jamie could tap into to feel everything beautiful and horrid in the world. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, it doubled suddenly, then disappeared with a gust of wind that felt to him like one last scream.

And [i]then[/i] he lost consciousness.