I was to meet with Carlisle on the Saturday before school began. On my way to the town center, I ran into Tom Flannery.

"Edward!" he called, loping across the street to my side. "I haven't seen you since we put up the posters. How have you been?"

"Good," I said smiling and shaking his hand. "And yourself?"

"Excellent," he replied. "I don't have a new school year to look forward to, after all."

Tom, unlike Anna and me, had dropped out of school after the eighth grade. He had been working for his father ever since in the large shoe factory that he owned. His family was very well off but didn't think very highly of lofty educational goals, unlike my own family. I had envied him the freedom of being out of school when he had first left and had made the mistake of complaining about it to my father once. So, wanting to teach me the value of the education I was receiving, he arranged for me to work in the factory for three days over one of our breaks. I have never envied Tom since.

I rolled my eyes at him. "How are things at the factory?"

"Good, good," he said, regaining his composure. "Father had me in to help him lay off one of the workers last week. It was brutal, I tell you. I don't know how I'll do that on a regular basis."

"Do you think that's something that will happen often?" I asked.

"Happens all the time," he said casually. "A place that size? We go through workers like water. Father says it gets easier, but I don't know."

He got quiet thinking about his experience and then his face brightened.

"Did you hear the rumors?" he asked. I just barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes at him again.

"Regarding?"

"The draft," he said, looking at me like I ought to know exactly what he was talking about.

"What about the draft? That won't affect us for another three years," I said.

"Ah, but there's where your wrong, my friend. I have it on good authority that they're going to lower the draft age to 18 soon. Seems that sometime in the next month the powers that be will be drafting anyone between the ages of 18 and 45. They must be hard up for enlistees."

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at him, mouth open, trying to process what I was hearing. If what he was saying was correct, I wouldn't have time to get my medical degree and enter the service as a doctor. I could be drafted immediately after my graduation. And then all of my mother's fears could become a reality.

"Edward," Tom said, shaking my shoulder lightly. "Are you alright, man? I thought for sure you'd be thrilled at the news. You like you just saw the ghost of my grandfather! What's the matter with you?"

"I--Well," I said, swallowing the nervous lump forming in the throat. "It's a shock, that's all."

"Right, but a good one for you," he said, smiling again. "You're mum can't argue when Uncle Sam comes calling, right?"

I smiled weakly and then nodded as we continued walking. I realized that we were getting closer to the town center and that I should try to part ways with Tom before we arrived there. I wasn't comfortable with revealing my plans to him yet, especially now that they might all have been in vain.

"Tom, I'm meeting a friend of my father's here in about fifteen minutes. I am sorry that I can't chat for longer."

"Not to worry, old friend," he said. "I'll meet you all after school on the first day, right? Same as always."

I smiled more genuinely then. Ever since he dropped out, Tom had been meeting our group after school on days when he could to walk home with us like in the old days. Always, he made it on the first day.

"I'll see you then, Tommy," I said, shaking his hand. I watched him as he ran across the street and disappeared around the corner. He was such an easy person to like.

I walked through the brick and stone arch that marked the entry into the green town center. All around, people were lounging in the square, enjoying the still balmy temperatures on this overcast but still lovely day. Carlisle was waiting for me at one of the wooden tables near the band shell that would be in use that evening. It was a quieter area of the park right now as it was fully covered by trees. Most of the people had thronged the area of the park that had some chance for sunlight peeking through.

"Edward," Carlisle said warmly, reaching out his hand to greet me.

"Carlisle," I said, working to keep my elation out of my voice. "It's good to see you again."

"And you as well," he said. "How is your lovely mother doing? And your relatives?"

He never paused or hesitated in the slightest with the reference to my aunt. Perhaps he had forgotten the embarrassing scene of a month and half ago.

"Everyone is well," I said. "Father says that he has been coming to see you more frequently now that the young man's trial is due to start any day."

"Yes, I've seen Edward at least once a week to discuss the case. How have you enjoyed the books?"

"They've been fantastic," I said truthfully. "I've even been able to use some of the knowledge from the books to help me better understand the newspapers. So much has been written about the flu in Philadelphia and the surrounding area."

His face became grim as he considered my words.

"How much do you know about the flu, Edward?" he asked.

"I know what I've read in the papers and what you mentioned in your note," I said. "It's clear that it is a killer, even for the young and healthy."

"It seems to pick out the young and the healthy first," he said, anger in his voice. I could tell that this bug was making him feel helpless.

"Do you have many patients with the flu right now?"

He frowned. I wasn't sure if he disliked the answer or the fact that I asked the question.

"Not many now, but we will," he said. He looked up at me suddenly, his eyes blazing. "I want you to be careful and remember the things that you've learned about the spread of germs, Edward. There's a very good chance the flu will come to Chicago. If and when it does, you need to be vigilant."

We talked nearly the rest of the time about the ways that we could keep ourselves safe in the event of an outbreak like what Philadelphia was experiencing. Carlisle had very few answers. He seemed to feel crippled by his inability to fix the problem. He kept coming back to the books that he had given me, but even those books held very few answers on treating a bug that moved as quickly as the Spanish flu seemed to.

We parted ways without me bringing up the draft at all. Part of it was that I was a coward. I didn't want to face his disappointment or fear any more than I wanted to face my mother's. But also, I could tell how distracted and tense he was by the impending flu. He had seemed to me more distracted than one person really ought to be and I couldn't conscience adding to that distraction. It didn't seem right to bombard him with another fear, one that in reality could be no more than a misheard rumor.

I doubted that Tom had misheard anything; he was nothing if not reliable and accurate. He enjoyed being able to relate stories to people, but he didn't make things up or relay things haphazardly. If he was telling me about the draft, I was certain that he had heard it from a reliable source. I thought then about my mother and how I would tell her. I considered letting her find out for herself when the paper inevitably published the story. It was a moment of weakness to be sure, but it was only for a moment. I steeled myself for the tears and the disappointment when I arrived home and broke the news.

I was surprised, however, when my mother took the news with a nod and steely silence. She looked up at me after a few moments and smiled, but there was barely any hint of warmth in her eyes as she did so.

"We'll meet all threats as they come, Edward," she said. "Not to worry."

Because my father was, unusually, at work on this Saturday, I didn't get to speak with him about my conversation with Mother. I went to bed troubled by her response, but in the morning had managed to forget the entire affair in anticipation for the coming school year.

I woke up early Monday morning, ready to begin a new year. Heading down to the kitchen, I wondered how Edie would be today. When she came to my room at the end of last week, she seemed happy that she would have the younger Kelly girl in her class at school, but she still appeared apprehensive, uptight. I had known the people that I was in school with for almost my entire life and I couldn't imagine the fear and embarrassment that Edie must be feeling knowing that she was going to have to start over.

Aunt Clara suggested that Edie drop out of school, but Edie just shook her head quickly and said that she would continue her education. She hadn't said as much to me, but I think she was afraid of the matches that her mother might make for her if she was no longer in school. In Aunt Clara's defense, she seemed pleased that Edie didn't want to abandon her education. Maybe there was more than one way to achieve Aunt Clara's goals of finding a profitable match for Edie; maybe they could both be happy.

"Good morning, son," Mother said brightly as I entered the kitchen. I was surprised to see Edie already sitting at the table pushing her oatmeal around the bowl and looking slightly pale.

"Good morning, Mother," I said. "Edie," I added more quietly.

She jumped a little at her name but then smiled weakly. I noted that she was dressed in a sturdy but attractive yellow dress. It complimented her dark hair nicely and I considered complimenting her, but I didn't want to draw any more attention to her appearance than need be. She seemed so uncomfortable already.

"Anna and the rest of your group will be here in about a half hour to walk over to the school," Mother said as she handed me my breakfast. "Do you have your summer-reading books ready?"

"All tied up and ready to go," I said, smiling.

"You're always so chipper at the beginning of term. I can't wait to see you before you start medical school!" Her face only betrayed a slight darkness as she said it; I was impressed. I had trouble thinking about medical school now without also worrying about the draft.

"Well, this year is better than most," I said. "It's the last one in the old building and then I can start new somewhere else."

I regretted the words immediately when I saw Edie's face pinch at the thought of "starting new." She smoothed out her face admirably and took a few bites of the now cold oatmeal, grimacing slightly.

"I spoke with Mrs. Kelly and she is going to send Grace along with Lillian this year," Mother said to me. "Grace will be in your year, Edie."

Edie nodded slightly and I could see just a hint of color come to her cheeks in the anticipation of having someone with whom she was friendly to walk with her. She and the Kelly girls had gotten somewhat close over the summer and I knew that it would be a comfort for Edie just to have Grace there as we walked to school.

The walk to school was full of chatter about teachers, subjects and the future. A new addition to our group was Bill Leeds, one of the boys that had helped to put up the war bond posters. It seemed that he and Lillian had begun courting over the summer. He was carrying her books for her when they arrived at our house. Edie looked him over once, flushed, and then fell into step with Grace.

"Aren't you going to carry Anna's books, Edward?" Lillian giggled behind her hand.

"I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own books, Lillian," Anna replied sardonically. "Edie, do you know anything about your teacher?"

"Grace was just telling me," Edie sniffed, implying that Anna was interrupting. Anna blew some air out through her nose and then began to walk slightly faster.

Although I was beginning to understand her better, Edie still infuriated me. I knew why she was reacting to Anna this way now: Edie felt threatened by the new school. She felt like Anna had an advantage that she did not have and she resented that. In order to show her resentment, she attempted to make her uncomfortable. It was convoluted and counterproductive, but I knew better than to try to change her ways. I would try to apologize to Anna later, after Edie went her own way.

"So, Edward, did you tell Bill and Lillian about the change in your plans?" Anna asked sweetly.

I groaned slightly. She knew that I wasn't ready to talk about this. But what I wanted rarely mattered to Anna; she was too excited about my change of heart to care if it embarrassed me.

"No," I said tersely.

"Edward is going to medical school," she immediately. "He's been mentored by a brilliant young doctor throughout the summer and he's sure to get into one of the top schools for the fall session."

"Anna," I said through my teeth.

"What?" she asked. "If you're not going to tell them, I certainly am. The more people who know, the less likely you'll be to back out."

"I'm not going to back out," I said, louder than I meant to. "And I'm not having this argument with you."

"You two are ridiculous," Lillian said. "If you hadn't have been fighting like this since grade school, I'd think you were set to take his name, Anna."

Anna blushed at the mention of marriage.

"Anna has plans of her own," I said, trying to get back in her good graces. I didn't want to fight with her.

"Plans that don't include you, right Edward?" Bill said, shuffling closer to Lillian.

I chose not to answer, thinking that no matter what I said someone would manage to find fault with it. We walked the rest of the way in silence. I never did get a chance to apologize to Anna as she walked in to the girls' annex with the rest of the girls.

"What is it with you and Anna?" Bill asked when the girls walked away.

"What do you mean? She's my friend," I said.

"Yeah, but don't you like her?"

I looked at him, trying to make him see how silly that question really was but it was clear that Bill wasn't taking my subtle hint. I'll admit that his and Lillian's relationship made more sense in this day and age than Anna's and my friendship. But, was it really so difficult to understand that we were just friends?

"Of course I like her Bill, she is my friend. But I am not interested in her romantically."

He looked at me as though I were speaking in a foreign language. We entered the boys' building in silence, Bill still shaking his head.

School was, as my mother had pointed out this morning, something that I looked forward to each year. I enjoyed learning new things and I looked forward to the challenge of new subject matter. However, as much as I enjoyed reading as a pastime, the art of literary study and criticism was lost to me in the classroom. I enjoyed reading aloud from books when called upon, but I always seemed to take a different meaning from the text than I ought to, disappointing our teacher.

Mrs. Brown, our teacher, loved Literature so I was sure that the first subject we would tackle today would be an analysis of our summer reading, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. There had been talk amongst the boys in my year about this strange choice of book; some parents refused to let their sons read the book because of the more mature topics that were covered. Unfortunately, Mother loved the book and was eager for me to read it. Anna had gotten a hold of it on one visit and fell in love with it as well. She complained that their summer reading, Anne of Green Gables, was no where near as fascinating. They were both, however, disappointed when I didn't share their fervor for the book. Heathcliff annoyed me to no end.

"Good morning, boys," Mrs. Brown said as she walked into the room, her sing-song voice ringing throughout the classroom. "I hope your summer break was good and that you were reading, reading, reading!"

There were several groans around the room and a few stifled laughs. Mrs. Brown had been our teacher for the last three years so we were all very used to her sense of humor and her passion for reading. She considered it a personal victory when any of her boys read any book on their own.

"We will start out today with a discussion about the character of Heathcliff in Emily Bronte's fantastic tale, Wuthering Heights. Ah, now, Mr. Masen, would you be so kind as to read us the opening paragraph of the novel so that we can begin our talk of Mr. Heathcliff from the perspective of Lockwood?"

I nodded, opening my book, hoping that after reading I wouldn't be expected to offer my own conclusions. I began,

"1801. - I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist's heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name."

I looked up upon finishing into the wistful eyes of my teacher. What was it about Heathcliff that seemed to so attract the female sex?

"And, Mr. Masen," she said, clearing her throat. "Can you tell us what this paragraph foreshadows about our hero, Mr. Heathcliff?"

I cleared my throat and felt the red creeping out of my shirt collar and onto my cheeks. Given Mrs. Brown's reaction to the very mention of Mr. Heathcliff's name, she wouldn't fancy my interpretation of him in the slightest.

"Well--" I hesitated. "Lockwood does not seem to have a good read on his landlord when he calls him a 'capital fellow.'"

I swallowed as Mrs. Brown's face turned down into a slight frown. "Explain," she said tersely.

"It just seems as though he isn't a 'capital fellow' in the slightest. He uses everything that he has to make Catherine's and Edgar's life miserable. That isn't noble or heroic; it is terrible and horrific. He is a monster."

Every face in the classroom was turned to look at me as Mrs. Brown stared at me. Some faces were sympathetic, but most were full of mirth at my embarrassment.

"That is, perhaps, one way to look at our Mr. Heathcliff," Mrs. Brown said. "Can anyone think of another way to view his actions? Ah, yes, Mr. Lewis?"

"Heathcliff was distraught at Catherine's dismissal and it drove him to the brink of insanity in his grief. That is why he treated her so poorly. It was really her own fault," he said, full of superiority.

"Ah yes, Catherine," Mrs. Brown said, the wistful tone back in her voice. "We cannot discuss Heathcliff without Catherine, or vice versa, can we?"

She turned and walked down the aisle and I dropped my head to the desk inaudibly. It may be a very long school year indeed.

"But you should have seen Edward this morning in class!" Bill Leeds was going on to my embarrassment as we walked home, regaling the crowd with my erudite descriptions of Heathcliff and Catherine. "He argued with Mrs. Brown about whether the characters had souls or not!"

"Still haven't gotten past your disdain for Bronte's characters, have you Edward?" Anna asked teasingly.

"There's really nothing in either character that suggests that either one of them have a shred of decency in them," I muttered, annoyed that we were still talking about this.

"They have each other, that's something," she said.

"It's very little," I argued, only half-heartedly. "Since they don't even have that really."

Luckily, Tom strolled up to us at that moment.

"What?" he said casually. "Did you think you could walk so fast as to leave me behind?"

We all laughed and patted him on the back. The embarrassment gone, it was good to be among friends. It was the first time that I really thought about what next year would mean: new friends and a new way of life. I didn't dwell on that, however, and enjoyed the flow of conversation. We were purposefully walking up and down every street that we could in order to prolong our walk home.

"So, how was your first day, Edie?" Anna asked when there was a lull in the conversation. She doggedly tried to make a friendship there. And if Edie weren't so stubborn, she would have made her a good friend.

"Passable," Edie said tightly.

For the first time, I looked over at Tom Flannery and noticed that he was looking my cousin up and down greedily, the way that I had seen Bill Leeds eyeing Lillian on many occasions. For so many reasons, my stomach turned into one ball of roiling nerves. There was no way that this situation could possibly turn out to anyone's liking. But, leave it to Tom Flannery to bring a situation to a head.

"Miss. Edie," he said, almost reverantly. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure to make your acquaintance before. I'm Thomas Flannery."

Edie looked him up and down with a look of pure disdain. I could see how he would look to her. His clothes were dirty and a little ragged from his long days at the factory. His boots were scuffed and his hands were full of calluses. His hair was disheveled. And, he was seemingly uneducated. He seemed to be of a lower class than ours. Before she could say anything truly hurtful, I decided to come to his rescue, although I doubted anything I said would make her return his longing looks.

"Edie," I said. "Forgive my manners. This is our good friend, Tom Flannery. His father owns the shoe factory at the edge of town. Tom is next in line to run the whole place, right my friend?"

He smiled at me, thanking me silently for my glowing recommendation to my cousin. I could only grimace at what Edie might make of his position as little more than a common worker. Owner or not, I couldn't imagine Aunt Clara deeming a factory worker a suitable match for her daughter. I could see the wheels turning in Edie's mind as she processed what I had said. I could see her eyes widen at the revelation that Tom stood to inherit a business, but her eyes were still mostly drawn to the minutes rips and tears in his shirt from the day. She could not reconcile the concepts of money and power with the hard work of factory life.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Thomas," Edie said quietly and without commitment. She did not offer her hand, but she also did not offer any acerbic comments to suggest disdain for Tom either. She surprised me with her careful handling of the situation.

The next couple of weeks were full as Edie and I relaxed into the drudgery of school work. It was the same at the beginning of every year; balancing the demands of my family life with the increasing workload the school laid upon us. This year was more trying because of our visitors. But, it wasn't long before Edie and I had gotten into a routine and were able to enjoy the evenings with the family.

She did not come to my room as often any more as she seemed to have made some good friends in school. By the third week in September, Edie was going over to the Kellys' one night a week for homework and dinner. She seemed happier for this change. She even seemed to be more comfortable in our group when we walked to and from school. She wasn't outwardly hostile to Anna any more although she was never openly welcoming of her friendship either. She was also quietly accepting of Tom's interest. Although she didn't encourage or return his gestures, she seemed to blossom under his ardant gazes. I thought that, perhaps, it did Edie a world of good to know that someone thought her desirable, even if that someone would never be acceptable to her mother.

On September 20th, one of the nights that Edie was over at the Kellys', father came home from a last minute meeting with Carlisle looking flushed and completely exhausted. I knew that he had been running himself to the ground trying to shore up all of the details for this case that would go to trial starting the first week in October. He had been visiting Carlisle at the hospital every week to go over the medical minutia of the case, the reasons why both he and Carlisle were convinced of the boy's innocence. When he came home that night, he dropped heavily into the chair behind his desk, barely taking notice of me as I sat in the chair opposite his completing my homework.

"Edward," Mother said as she followed him in. "You look just awful! What happened today?"

"Oh, it's nothing, dear," he said nasally. "I've just tired myself with this case. I have a few last minute details to go over here and then I will head to bed for"--he paused and then sneezed explosively--"excuse me, for the night." He shook his head, trying to clear it of the fog that the sneeze had created.

Mother looked at him worriedly. "You look as though you ought to eat something and go to bed right now," she said.

"Nonsense," he said, wiping his nose and placing the handkerchief back into his pocket. "I'll eat my soup right here and be done in no time."

He made an attempt at a smile and ended in another explosive sneeze. We all laughed, never once suspecting what those sneezes might mean.

A/N: Legal stuff first: Edward is reading the actual first paragraph from Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, so credit goes solely to Ms. Bronte for that paragraph. Now . . . I have to thank my beta, Emerald Star, for pointing me to the main direction of this chapter, the first day of school. As we were ironing out the timeline, she gently pointed out that I had neglected school completely and that seeing a human Edward in the classroom would be fascinating. I had to agree with her. I hope you like seeing a bit of Edward without the perfect answer for once. Also, we've come to the point in the story where I feel compelled to point out to you that, although you already know what is coming, the next several chapters are going to have a lot of sadness in them. One of the biggest hardships of writing this piece is creating so many amazing characters, like Edward Sr. and Elizabeth, and knowing that they aren't going to make it out alive. Not everyone that we've been introduced to is going to kick it in the flu, though, so stay with me as we grieve with Edward. Let me know what you are thinking; because, as you know, reviews are like the magic cure for the flu. ;) ~Jen