Peter took a deep breath and sat down on the ground. "Hey, Jason," he whispered, lightly running his fingers over the tombstone. He set a bouqet of flowers on it. "I can't believe it's been a whole year. I really miss you," he reached up to brush away the quickly forming tears.
Peter tried to smile. "A lot has happened since you left. Ivy gave birth to a little boy. His name is Jason," he swallowed. "He has your eyes. She kept him. I visit them sometimes. It's hard. He looks just like you. Ivy tells him about you all the time. About what a great guy you are-were. He's too little to understand now, but when he gets older, he'll know all about what a great, brave guy his dad was," he sat there in silence for a few minutes, stroking the grave.
"It's beautiful here, where they buried you," Peter spoke up again. "You'd have liked it. Or you would've hated it. I brought you roses. I know you're not really a fan of that romance crap, but still. I thought it would be nice. It's not like I can put baseballs on your grave. I mean, I could. Maybe next time."
Peter drew his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "Nadia's fine. She's had a rough time without you. I know you guys weren't all that close, but it really affected her. She's stopped doing drugs and dealing them. Hasn't even touched a drop of alcohol since then. People avoid her even more now. No one wants to talk to the dead guy's sister, I guess. Nadia and Diane are really the only people who talk to me now. Ivy dropped out," he added. "Sometimes Matt looks like he wants to say something, but he never does," he sighed. "I told my mom. About us. And me being gay. I think it was hard for her, but she's ok with it. My dad, on the other hand..." he sighed again. "But I don't care what my dad thinks."
"School's really lonely without you," he said quietly. "I don't get shoved around anymore. People just act like I don't exist. I know they talk about me behind my back, though. I miss you so much," Peter's voice cracked and he let the tears fall. "I wish you hadn't left. We could've figured something out. Together. We could've done so much...grown old together...gotten married...had kids..."
"But how are things with you?" Peter attempted a smile. "How's heaven? Or hell? Or are you in purgatory? Where do people even go after death?" Peter laughed, but it wasn't real. "Wherever you are, I hope you're happy. I hope..." he got choked up. "I hope I can see you soon."
"My therapist tells me I need to move on," Peter said. "Oh, yeah, I have a therapist now. She sucks. But my mom thinks it'll help in the long run," he shrugged. "I don't know."
"I should get going soon," Peter said, but he didn't move. "It's weird how much everyone's changed in a year. But not you. You'll never change. I'm going to New York City for college. Like I always dreamed. But I'll come back to visit. All the time," he stood up. "This isn't a goodbye. It's more of a...see you later."
"So," Peter bit his lip. "See you later, Jason. I love you a lot."
And he walked away.