It had never been surprising that the band had drifted apart. They had kept it up all the way through Horace Green Prep, of course, but once they went on to high school, it seemed like life had kept getting in the way. Freddy was already part of a different band, and Lawrence wanted to concentrate on his Classical Music again. Zack and Katie tried to keep things together- but by this stage it seemed that nothing could. "You two just want to be coupley together, anyway," Freddy had said, after one of the big band arguments, which happened all too frequently. "You don't need us." And though he would regret the spite with which he said this, no-one could deny that it was true.

The after-school program continued, of course- there were plenty of willing, shiny, younger versions of themselves- and Dewey was probably the only person there that missed the buzz of amps feeding down to the younger classes on the floors below, the occasional prompted lyric or swearing as some piece of kit fell over. No-one else had really known them as well as he had, after all.

Summer, like everyone else, had found it hard to let the band go. Zack and Katie did still invite her along to their frequent "jams"- but they were branching out into funk now, and it wasn't the same. And, whenever she was with them, she just felt like a third wheel.

She was starting to remember what things had been like before school of rock- years of being muttered about behind hands, of no friends and that same panicky feeling whenever she had to find a place at a lunch table. She hadn't been bullied, exactly- just ignored, belittled. She over-achieved to cover it, thinking that if she had to have the attention of anybody, it might as well be the teachers. Until that backfired as well.

So she went back to her old ways again- modifying them to suit past experience, because Summer Hathaway was nothing if not someone who learnt from her mistakes. Instead of putting her hand up in class, she chose seats near the back, limiting herself to only five answers per day- and then only facts, not opinions. She became a B-plus student- exactly average- hid out in the library at break and lunch, made sure she didn't hand in at least one assignment per fortnight.

She had never found it easy to make friends, but now she stopped trying, quickly extracting herself from the group she was supposed to hang around with. She didn't even leave a gap. She almost resigned herself to living out the rest of her teenage years as a nobody, a nothing. She began looking at colleges, counting off how many months and weeks and days she had left before she could get out, fast, to somewhere as far away as possible.

So she was surprised, to say the least, when he came over to her at lunchtime. She had purposefully hidden herself behind an encyclopaedia, but he pulled it away. "Hey, Tink. Haven't seen you around in a while." She tried to act angry, defensive, but she was suddenly too tired. Tink. No-one had called her that in…four years? Five? She couldn't remember. "Hey, Freddy. How's it going?"
"Good. Hey, did I tell you about that new band I formed? It's got that bassist in it, James someone, who's really good, and we're called the fire starters. In fact I think we've got a gig booked…"

She listened to him babble on, not really hearing what he was saying. He sounded…happy. But he didn't look it. He was far too serious, more serious than she had ever seen him. "Tink? Hey, Tink? Did you hear anything I just said?"

"What?"
Then came that unusual, unwelcome tone of concern. "Summer. Are you alright?"

"What?! Freddy, I'm fine! I mean …"

"Don't lie to me, Summer Hathaway." She squirmed under his gaze.

"Fine then, I'm not. I hate it that the band broke up, I hate not seeing you guys anymore, I hate school, and I feel like I'm not even worth anything anymore. I just have this…horrible feeling of being homesick for someone I used to be." She was crying now, silently, tears splashing onto the table in front of her. "And I just can't take it anymore, Freddy. I can't."

He leaned in, taking hold of her hands. Which person said that girls can look beautiful when they cry? He thought. No-one can. It's one of the ugliest things there is. Even Summer… He chased that thought away, and, while he still had the courage, crushed her in a tight embrace. "Shh," he whispered into her hair, while she shuddered with sobs. "It'll be fine. You've still got Spazzy McGee, right?"

She nodded, and he decided to remain content with that. "So…that a bit better?" She untangled herself slowly, blushing as she sat up. "Yeah, thanks, Freddy. That was…just what I needed."

Don't break down now, Jones. You can do this. He leaned back over, taking her hand in his and swinging her bag onto his shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you to class."