San Diego is different than Arcadia. Bigger, brighter. The streets are busy all the time, the flowing lights of the interstates visible from Toby's room.
He'd expected some old house like the one in Arcadia. Instead, it's a nice, two-story house that was built in the 21st century.
It doesn't have a basement, just a slab. Toby is happy about that. There's no longer the temptation to go down at night to see if his friend has returned and is waiting to play a new game.
The school is bigger, brighter, as well, with more kids. Toby feels more nervous than he's been in years—Jim isn't here. Jim's always been here, since their first days in school.
But now it's Toby, by himself. Before his first day of school, he meets with the school psychologist, is told that he'll be meeting with him and the grief counselor. Evidently, they sent all of his records in.
But school is… Nice. Unlike Arcadia, there's a bunch of clubs, including an esports team. Full of people like Toby (but not like AAARRRGGHh. Not like Jim) who enjoy playing games—they even have tournaments with other schools. As long as Toby keeps his grades up, that is. He enjoys Seaport Village, and all the shops, and how busy everything looks, even if bike riding is a bit more hazardous on the crowded roads.
And he keeps remembering Jim. There's a picture of Jim and Toby on his desk, and he keeps one in his locker. Some of the kids make jokes about gays, but most of them shut up when he mentions that Jim was his friend who died.
Rumors grow up about that. Toby and Jim got caught by drug dealers. Jim was taken by aliens. Jim never existed and Toby's nuts.
Toby doesn't care. He has his circle of friends now, and they do stuff, and sometimes Toby wonders why he and Jim were so solitary.
But even so, Jim saved the world. Gunmar is locked in his prison, Enrique survived (Even if Claire might not. Darci's messages about the third member of their team reduce Toby to tears). Jim's dead, but he did more in his short life than most of the adults Toby sees when he looks around.
And Toby wonders, if he'd been faster, if he'd been willing to put in more, maybe he could have gone with Jim.
But then they would have both died. But if Jim gave so much, gave all of his tomorrows, dates with Claire (poor Claire), graduation, an ordinary life. All to save Enrique, to seal the gate after him…
To save two worlds.
What can Toby give? Somehow, spending his life playing video games (however fun they are), doesn't seem like a very good way to remember his friend. Jim played video games, but he did so very much more with his life.
Toby knows his strengths. He can't be a doctor, like Dr. L (killed by Gunmar, even if he never landed a blow on her), but maybe…
Toby is on the port when he's thinking about that, and he notices one of the big, gray navy ships leaving the harbor. Toby knows he'll never be the lone hero, the cop running the perp down by himself. But he was… Decent at being part of a team. He knows he could be a lot more than "decent" now.
Toby doesn't make his decision immediately. He takes a week, going to the esports club, talking to some of his new friends (San Diego is a Navy town, after all, and many of them have relatives who joined), and thinking about it.
And next Monday, he looks at Jim's picture, the goofy kid who could barely look at Claire. Toby's friend. The ordinary teen who became so much more. Toby can't become Jim. He knows this, but perhaps, just perhaps, he can do something with his life to honor what Jim gave him—and everyone. Even if they don't know about it.
Monday, after school, Toby knocks on the door of the guidance counselor and walks in, to ask what classes he should take his junior and senior year if he wants to join the Navy.