Warning: MAJOR spoilers for the book 'A Separate Peace' by John Knowles

Taking into consideration all that has happened lately, I can't help but be nonstalgic. So many things have gone on, including Finny's death. It was all Gene's fault but I can't help but feel partly responsible because it was because of my own selfishness in finding out the the truth that he ran out of that room and fell down those familiar stairs that did the final blow. That killed him.

I've been going about this year probably the wrong way, always wanting to know what's going on and being nosy and what not. Maybe it'd be better if I just stay under the radar and most importantly away from Gene.

I don't know whether or not I'm angry at him or I feel guilty in some way but either way, I've been trying to avoid him . . . It's probably not a good thing because right now he needs a friend. He doesn't have Phineas anymore and of course he will feel remorse and regret for doing what he did. I want to comfort my friend but I want to stay away from him.

Such conflicting feelings . . . so many problems . . . so many headaches.

As I cross the far common to the first academy building like we always did, I began observing everything. I payed attention to my surroundings and felt a bit better seeing all the happy things that I saw day to day but I couldn't get rid of the horrible feeling that's been in the pit of my stomach ever since that funeral.

God, I need to let this go and move on. I said my goodbyes, I should be fine.

But I'm not.

I still regret a few things and it shocks me at how much this is affecting me because I was close to Phineas and all them but I wasn't too close to where I'd do anything for them.

Shaking my head, I began walking up the steps and I looked up to see Gene at the top of the steps; not looking at me, but past me with a certain look in his eyes. He actually looked kinda out of it just standing at the top of the steps. I took another step, just a few steps from him and stopped. I went to open my mouth, to bring him back to the present, but I quickly shut them when a person started walking down the stairs. Pursing my lips, I just walked around him. As soon as I got to the doorway, I had to look back to see if he was still there, to maybe urge me to go back there and talk to him but I turned and saw that he was gone; I didn't even see his head like you would if someone was walking down the steps.

I turned back around and headed into the building.

Class seemed like an oppurtunity to get my mind off of everything that was ailing me, everything that I was regretting, everything that I so desperately wished I could forget; but I was wrong. The journal on the board was to write a five paragraph essay in our composition notebooks about a recent event that made us sad.

I couldn't write it; I couldn't. I was holding my pen over the paper; ready to write; but I couldn't get the words out. I couldn't bring myself to write about it because it would only make this feeling worse and I don't need it.

Dropping my pencil ontop of the notebook, I rubbed my temples. This could be why Gene looked that way when I saw him at the top of the stairs. He probably had this class before me and he probably had a hard time writing it too. Most likely had a harder time than me actually.

But I knew he wrote it because one, his grade is important to him, and two, he can be strong and he can put a smile on his face, even if it's a fake one, he can do it. But everything that he puts aside at times will come back to him and what will happen then? Will he burst out in tears; lash out at the first identifiable thing; go crazy? I don't know; I haven't known him for too long to know what he did in positions such as these.

I wiped my face with my hands then set my hands on the table and laced my fingers together. I'll take the F; I can't do it.

"Brinker." I heard from across the group of four tables that I sat at. I looked up, since I didn't know who it was because I am completely out of it, and saw Brownie with a semi worried look. Right, he doesn't quite know what happened because no one around the school is talking about what happened for obvious reasons.

Of course who would honestly want to talk about it?

"I'm . . . fine." I managed to say, exhaling at the end of the sentence. My eyes went to my desk and they didn't look up until the teacher decided to start class.

Our little groups of four were split into two for a small project that the teacher prepared. I, of course, worked with Brownie because I can't even remember the names of the other two that sat at our table. Chad and Robby? I don't know and frankly I don't care.

Brownie and I were supposed to describe one of our friends and make a whole paper about them. Just thinking of who to do it on made me feel unwell and Brownie could tell because he asked me about five times within the first ten minutes of starting our project. It's nice to know that he cares about me and he can tell when I'm upset about something and all but . . .

No, I have no reason to insult him, he hasn't done anything bad to me.

"Who should we do it on?" Brownie asked me, not looking at my face probably because I had glared pretty harshly the last time he asked me if I was okay.

"Pick one of your friends." I said, taking a deep breath. I didn't want to do any of mine. there would be like four people I could do it on but I don't want to. Those four are Gene, Leper, Brownie, and . . . the deceased.

I looked over to Brownie and saw that he was looking at the ground and twiddling his fingers nervously. "I-I . . . don't . . ." His eyes flicked to me then back at the ground. His face flushed from embarassment.

Right, being the really timid person he is, I should've guessed. I mean that in the nicest way I can.

"It's okay," I assured him,"we can do it on one of mine . . . how about Leper; do you know him a little?" He pursed his lips. "How about Gene?"

"I-I think I kn-know him." Brownie responded. I smiled; at least I didn't have to say the last option.

"Okay, lets do it on Gene." I said with a forced smile.

I have to do a whole paper on Gene; the guy that I haven't been able to muster up the courage to talk about what happened; the guy that started this whole damn thing. "S-so what do-"

"Why do you stutter so much?" I half snapped at him on accident. He looked at me with wide eyes, pursed his lips, and looked down at the ground so that his bangs covered his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry . . ." He said in a half whisper.

"It's okay, I'm sorry. I'm just . . . not in the mood to do anything about this topic."

"Why not?"

"Because . . ." I stopped myself. Did I really want to go into detail of everything that was on my mind? Did I really want to give away my insecurities that I can't handle right know? Did I really want to tell it all to this one person? I looked at Brownie and he stared back at me. This time, he didn't look away. "You really want to know?" I had to ask.

"Well . . . if y-you don't want t-to talk a-a-about it, you don't . . ." He said, his voice getting quieter as he spoke. I looked down at my hands. That's the thing; i don't know if I want to talk about it.

"Pardon me for a-asking b-but . . . is th-this about . . . Ph-Phineas?" Brownie asked. I felt a certain twinge of pain in my stomach at the first mentioning of his name ever since the funeral. I clenched my teeth together and tried to breathe.

"Basically . . . yes." I replied.

"Brinker . . ." he started saying but he stopped. I closed my eyes tightly then opened them to look at him.

"Yes?"

"Nevermind . . . I-I . . . probably w-won't help . . . I a-a-always make things . . . w-worse." He said shyly, trying to avoid eye contact with me. I exhaled deeply again, trying to releasing the mixed emotions that fill me. I looked at his distressed look and saw that even though it wasn't for the same reasons, other people were suffering worse.

"You've been . . . been asking me what's wrong; I have to ask the same to you Cupcake." I said with a slight chuckle at the end. His head shot up.

"Cupcake?"

"Yeah, don't you ever get tired of 'Brownie?' Besides, cupcakes are more interesting than brownies although if you're putting all desserts in perspective I have to say that chocolate cake beats them all." I'm doing it again . . .

"heh-heh." He laughed.

"What? Which dessert would you prefer Dezzie?" I'm making jokes . . .

"Dezzie?" When I feel insecure . . .

"Short for dessert since you won't choose." But right now . . .

I'm fine.

"I'll stick with Cupcake actually, I rather like that. Anyways, we've got a project to do and about an hour to finish; ready?" I said, smiling half heartedly. He returned the smile and pulled out a slip of paper from one of the folders on his desk

And as long as I'm fine now; I'll be okay.

Ah, it has been a while since I've uploaded anything, ne? Well alot has happened in a while. I got banned from writing/drawing yaoi so many of the stories that you love can't be continued unfortunately. My parents were being evil .;; but yeah, ever since then (it happened in January) I haven't been in the mood/able to write anything. Just the fact that I wrote this shocked me; this is the first story I've written in like two months. But, yeah.

I don't know if anything will ever be uploaded to this account and if it is, find it a miracle.

Sorry, forgive me

~cherry