A/N: So imagine me trucking along through the week, spearheading two parties (one for work), dealing with some weird work hours, spending night after exhausted night doing nothing but laying in bed catching up on Sister Wives, when it's suddenly Saturday morning and I receive a message from my trusty reader, bobcatwriter reminding me…

It's, yeah, Saturday. And I was due for an update Friday night. Oh gee willikers!

Unfortunately I couldn't see to it right then, but she graciously gave me til Tuesday evening. ;D.

In this chapter, Adam and Lacey still enjoy the good ol' heart bubbles of first love while leaving the weekend at Aunt Rachel's and heading back into the real world where graduation happens, the Ducks scatter after the end of high school and beginning of adulthood, Phil has something crazy in mind to "cure" him, and Lacey receives some devastating news.

Lastly, let me go ahead and introduce a plot element that I took liberties with: the NYU Violets. The hockey team does exist, but it's a collegiate team, meaning, in layman's terms, it's not a proper "college hockey" team. However, for plot purposes (and there is a reason I want Adam at NYU), I'm choosing to make the hockey team a Tier 1–high skill, high competition.

Love you all! Hope you each have good weeks until I update again! (FRIDAY, I swear this time)

/*/*/

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." – "Closing Time" by Semisonic

The rest of the barn dance went off without a hitch. Lacey and Adam took a few more turns on the dance floor before she danced with Uncle Bryce. The most interesting moment came when the line dances started, which was great for laughs among them all. Other than Bryce and Rachel, none of Lacey's family, nor Adam, had participated in anything like it before, and they continually fell over one another for the first round or two. It was good to hear Stuart's booming laughter echo down the line as he and her mom kept bumbling up the order.

Before it was all over, Adam wanted to go back to Bryce's truck and grab his camera to take some pictures. While he lost himself in snapping away, Lacey took the opportunity to socialize alongside Rachel with some of her neighboring farmers. The one thing Lacey took away from the conversations was this: she could never survive farming.

The next day before the trip home, she donned her freshly-cleaned white dress from the previous night's dance and went to walk the farm with Adam, allowing him to take the requested pictures of her. She posed next to the goats, turned her head to flash him a sassy smile as she petted the pigs, and put one foot in the stirrup on a tame horse, hands on her hips, before Adam spoke up.

"These are all nice. I mean really, really cute. But can you just do normal things and pretend I'm not here? I want to get some candids."

"Sure," she shrugged. It proved to be harder than she thought, though, acting like he wasn't there, knowing full well he was. But she tried to turn her thoughts from the camera to the actual farm, and she wandered around through the crops and along fences, peering around at all there was to see. She fed the chickens and, at Bryce's bidding, attempted to milk a cow, which turned out to be a disaster. But her foible was hilarious all the same, and before they were finished traipsing, she found out Adam had taken a whopping thirty-six pictures.

His cheeks fairly glowed as he came over to her where she stood in the backyard among the billowing bedsheets Rachel had hung on the line. "You're so incredibly beautiful." He grinned at her sincerely, resting his forehead against hers. "Thank you. I got good stuff."

She gave him a quick peck on the lips as the sounds of her mom and Stuart carrying luggage to the car drifted toward them. The two of them headed off to help, soon losing track of one another in the bustle. Then, as Lacey walked past the kitchen, she overheard Aunt Rachel's soft voice.

"Keep moving all you can. It's good you're still training and that you haven't given up hockey. You should pursue your dreams. By all means, don't give this disease permission to run your life. But find out the best ways to take care of yourself, and do them, preferably before you have a flare. Because that will actually cut down on the amount you have."

"The thing is," she heard Adam reply, "I don't really know yet how to take care of myself other than using heat."

"You'll learn. It's different for everybody. It sounds like you're already doing a lot just by keeping a clean diet. Sugar and bread cause inflammation. I honestly think you're managing it as well as you can right now. Just don't push yourself too hard. And you don't owe people an explanation, okay? If you have to lay low for a few days because of a flare, do it. You'll only make it worse by fighting it. Think of it as a big wave washing over you. Ride it out until it passes. Okay?"

Lacey smiled. Her aunt had done what she'd asked her to do.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." Adam sounded truly grateful.

"Oh, and here's oil from lavender and peppermint." Lacey heard the sound of bottles clinking together. "I sourced them myself. The peppermint will soothe your muscles if you use it with coconut oil or unscented lotion to bind it to your skin. And the lavender will relax you. Use them. They work."

When she was sure the conversation was over and Adam headed out to continue helping pack the cars, Lacey came into the kitchen and hugged her aunt. "I don't want to wait so long before I come back," she whispered. "I love being here."

"I'm glad you do, Sweetie," Rachel smiled warmly. "And I'll have you any time." Her aunt looked around as though being sure no one was close by before adding, "We've not told many people yet, but Bryce and I are looking to adopt. Remember Sophie that you met last night?"

"Oh, yeah," Lacey nodded, vaguely recalling the girl she'd met at the dance that was somewhere around her age. "Didn't you say her parents own the farm behind yours?"

"Yes, that's her. Anyway, she's pregnant. In the very early stages, but…she is. Unexpectedly, of course."

Lacey raised her eyebrows. "Wow. I had no idea."

"Well, most people don't," Rachel kept her voice low. "But she is, and she and her parents are talking with Bryce and I about conducting a private adoption. Now, we're not sure yet, and you know how minds can change as a pregnancy progresses. But here's hoping, right? Because it's pretty obvious by now that Bryce and I can't…" she trailed off, but the sorrow in her aunt's eyes told Lacey everything.

"Rachel, good luck. Really. Will you keep me updated?"

"Will do." Rachel took her hand and squeezed it before letting go.

And just like that, Lacey was forced to part with another place that felt like a special milestone location for her and Adam. But that hill on the Jernigans' farm, where he officially declared his love for her, would always be there.

And so, hopefully, would he. That's what mattered most.

/*/*/

The rest of the month was a blur. Next came graduation, which happened for Lacey on the same night Adam's did, so they were unable to attend each other's.

It was with mixed emotions that Lacey tossed up her cap along with the other Driskell seniors, and oddly enough, the moment she did, she thought of Max. Things had turned out so differently than either of them had planned, and part of her was a little sorry he hadn't had the opportunity to walk across the stage, too.

At times, Lacey considered going to visit him at the detention center just to make sure he was keeping okay. She didn't know if she could ever forgive him for what he'd done–after all, Adam could have laid there and died on that cold ground for no crime other than being her friend–but Max had still been a part of her life at one point. And she hated it had all ended the way it had for him.

It was after graduation that the big surprise came: Stuart pulled up casually to their house after the ceremony, everyone piling out of the car like usual, when something caught Lacey's eye. There, in the driveway that Stuart had failed to pull into this time, sat a modest looking silver car with a big blue bow on it.

Lacey's jaw practically hit the ground.

"Is…is this…?"

She looked back to her mom and Stuart who were arm-in-arm, grinning at her.

Lacey screamed, running over to the car. It was, she learned after staring over every inch of it, a 1990 Corolla Sport Coupe her parents had scrimped and saved to buy her for a graduation gift.

"Oh my gosh, it even has the eyelid headlights that flip open!" She giggled, flopping herself comically over the car hood in an embrace.

"Aye, Lass. Ye take care o' it, eh? No one else drives it, no' e'en Adam," Stuart cautioned.

"You got it. You guys, thank you." She rushed over and hugged each of them, tears blurring her vision. Her sisters bounded over to the car, pushing into the front seat to check it out.

At work the next day, she was pleasantly surprised yet again when Hilda and Alice presented her with about six gift cards that ranged from five dollars to twenty-five each, all of them from nice stores in the mall.

"We got the volunteers to pitch in and donate gift cards so you can buy clothes for college in the fall," Hilda explained, smiling modestly.

Lacey couldn't help but return a sincere smile. Her and Alice's gifts to the brusque woman over Christmas had apparently resulted in great things. It was unusual for Hilda not to flash a quick smile to her nowadays when she came into work. It warmed her heart. Alice was right. All Hilda had needed was to be made aware that she mattered. It was a lesson Lacey wanted to carry with her.

Finally, she and Adam gifted each other by returning to Minneapolis Museum of Art and having dinner in the sculpture gardens. Afterward, they went to see Armageddon at the movie theater. Adam was enthralled.

Summer was officially in full-swing. And Lacey had never felt the sun shine brighter.

/*/*/

"So Davy loves Sundae?" Alice sat at her desk writing out a list of thank-you cards that needed to be sent out. Hilda was usually in charge of filling out thank you cards, using a template Alice had written up for her, but it was a slow day at the Cat's Cradle and Lacey thought she may as well help.

"He does! And can you believe he's actually trained him to ride in the car?" She laughed. "Sundae's completely spoiled. He's quirky and Davy's quirky, so they're a perfect match."

"I'm so, so glad." Alice clucked her tongue. "Sphinxes are expensive to buy, but difficult to give away to people who don't know what a commodity they are. And they aren't given near enough credit." Alice finished up the list, handing it to her. "Ah, I did want to talk to you for a moment, though, before you dash off."

Lacey felt herself tense. "If this is about the referral to the pound for that guy to find five cats yesterday, I'm really, really sorry. I had no idea we weren't supposed to refer people there. I'm glad you came around the corner while I was doing it."

"It isn't that, Dear, I just…feel I need to tell you about the darker side of things."

Lacey wrinkled her nose. "Darker side?"

Alice nodded. "You remember that gentleman that came in, and his affect and demeanor? We try not to judge people, but we do often discern their intentions by what they look like and how they behave when they come in. You see, people who want a large number of cats for free or for a discount…their intentions aren't always pure."

Lacey continued to stare at Alice, hoping for an explanation.

"People aren't always good to animals. That's all I want to say."

Lacey's back stiffened as she regarded her boss. Of course she knew about animal abuse and neglect. The TV commercials made darn good sure of that. But the idea, for some reason, hadn't even entered her mind that people would come into a shelter she worked at who didn't simply want a pet to love. "Right, I…I guess that's true."

Alice leaned forward, placing her folded hands on her desk. "And it's our responsibility to screen adoptees very well so we can decide if they're appropriate, and not send them elsewhere if we feel they're not."

Lacey swallowed. "How could anyone be cruel to a kitten or a puppy?"

The older woman clucked her tongue, reaching across the desk. "Lacey…"

Lacey held out her hand to allow Alice to stroke it. Sometimes she wanted to be comforted by the woman's gentle touch.

"We live in a cruel world. It's why I cling to my faith so dearly. When God–"

"God," Lacey snorted. "That's the thing. What kind of God would allow suffering like that? I mean, people and animals have it so hard sometimes, and it's just wrong."

"It is wrong," Alice agreed. "But you know, one of God's greatest gifts to us as humans was the gift of free will. Wouldn't you agree? Don't you like being able to make choices for yourself?"

Lacey nodded hesitantly.

"Well the downside that comes with this is that there are people who choose the wrong things. And in those instances, we can only do the best we can to fight for justice. After that, we must leave them to Him."

Lacey shook her head, dissatisfied. "I still think He could stop the bad stuff."

Alice nodded sympathetically. "I've felt the same way so many times. But that's where faith comes in. And what is faith if not a belief in a certain thing despite all appearances to the contrary?"

It was a hard conversation Lacey didn't want to have, so she stood up, giving Alice the message that she was done with it for now. "I'll take the rest of the cards and give half to Hilda."

"Ah, not so fast. Sit down here and tell me about your young man. We haven't had one of our girl talks in a good long while."

"Oh," Lacey chuckled. "Well, let me tell you about the playoffs. And Casablanca." She sat back down, pushing aside, for now, the notion of cats being bought by horrible people and the questions she had about faith.

But, after she gushed for fifteen minutes and before she could leave the office, Alice stopped her yet again. "Lacey, I want to ask you. Have you ever considered social work?"

Lacey wrinkled her nose. "Social work? Like the people who come in and take kids away from abusive parents? No thank you, Alice."

"No no." Alice folded her hands on the desk again. "A social work degree can be used in so many other ways. One can work for the Department of Social Services, sure. But one can also be a caseworker for a nonprofit organization, working with people who are dealing with various hardships. They are the hands of social justice, Lacey. And I don't know if you realize it, but you have a sense of justice that gives you a strong voice for the hurting."

Lacey turned over Alice's words in her head.

"Just something to think about. Why don't you research it? And talk to your advisor at St. Paul College. Sure you've still got time to think about all this, but it's probably high time you started."

Lacey couldn't help but smile a little, replaying Adam's words in her head. His and Alice's messages to her about thinking about the future were almost identical. "I'll think about it. And…thanks."

And she did think about it. That night, she called Adam.

"I mean, would I even be any good at that? I feel like I might get a little too involved in people's lives. I'm a basketcase myself," Lacey sounded off, filing her nails back into shape after having spent the afternoon nipping at them.

"Think of it this way, though. Who better to understand people who are having a hard time than somebody who's been through one? I think you might be onto something," Adam replied. "Oh, and by the way, I got the pictures developed. Want to come by tomorrow and see them?"

"Absolutely I do. Did they turn out like you hoped?"

"For the most part, yeah. I still need to work on lighting. And I think I'm gonna take a class after all. I just wanted to first get a feel for where I'm at so I can see where I'm going, you know?"

"Of course, Mr. Plan Ahead," she chuckled.

The pictures turned out great. Much better than Lacey imagined they would for Adam to be a newbie, and she especially loved the candids. It wasn't necessarily that she felt beautiful in them, but it was a matter of looking at herself through his eyes, seeing the things about her that he apparently found special. He also got some great shots of couples dancing in the barn, an old man leaning on the beer keg, and an especially great one of Stuart and her mom, staring at one another, hand in hand, during what looked to be a slow dance.

At last, Adam had found a hobby.

/*/*/

And Adam did enjoy taking pictures–much more than he thought he would.

He took his camera with him to the park to use between his daily jog and his bleacher runs at the school every morning. Continuing a rigorous training routine even in the summer months had always been important to him, and Adam couldn't let more than a day go by without his exercises. Hockey camp would be coming up in just a couple weeks, and he wanted to be ready. They said scouts were present at the camps, too.

But photo-taking added novelty to his routine. He took pictures of the way the sun shone through the trees in ribbons, the way two children interacted with one another at the water fountain, the couple lying on the blanket together in the sun…

In a way, Adam felt like a stalker. But he knew he would never show off the pictures anywhere. They were just for practice.

Lacey sometimes joined him for his morning exercise, hair combed back into a sleek ponytail, sweatsuit on, ready to run with him. She said her goal over the summer was to get in better shape, forgo the sweets Stuart was constantly bringing into the house, and exercise more. As glad as Adam was that she wanted to improve her physical condition, she slowed him down considerably. He typically had to gear his sprint down to a jog in order for her to keep up, and she regularly had to take breaks, chugging down both her water and his too. But he only had a couple of months left to spend as much time as he wanted with his girlfriend before NYU. And he was going to enjoy every last drop of it. Most of the time.

On mornings when Lacey didn't want to drag herself out of bed in time to go, Adam often ran with Jesse. Come September, Jesse was off to Marine basic training, and he wanted an edge over everyone else there. Typical Jesse Hall style.

Adam and Jesse's dynamic had always been unique. They would usually run four or five miles in companionable silence, then nod their farewells and Jesse would get in his car and drive off while Adam sometimes stuck around for awhile with his camera. They didn't talk very much–he and Jesse never had–but a terrible ache yawned in Adam's gut every time he thought about the fact that, come September, Jesse would be gone. He wasn't sure how much the two of them could keep up with one another between the basic training and stationing–who knew where that would be–and Adam's college schedule. The other Ducks would be spreading out, too. But something about Jesse leaving felt different. Adam wondered if it was because the two of them had come so far since the first day he'd set foot in enemy territory, aka the Ducks' locker room, when Jesse had infamously dubbed him a "cake eater". Now, they ran together several times a week, and they were both about to leave Minneapolis. Maybe for good.

Portman had, true to his word, enrolled in rookie school to be a police officer. Fulton was taking a job with a construction crew drawing surprisingly good pay, and most of the others were going off to college like Adam was. A little part of him had hoped at least someone would head off to NYU alongside him. But everyone else native to Minnesota was staying there.

Lacey had definitely been right about Adam's grieving the end of the Ducks. One night he sat drinking a protein smoothie, which his dad deemed an odd nightcap, as he flipped back through an informal scrapbook he'd kept of his Ducks memories. He wanted to show this to her, but he was afraid if he did so, he would sit and sob. He loved hockey for hockey, obviously. But he knew his passion had only been fueled by his childhood career with his beloved team. Now, the title of "Ducks" would be passed on to the next Varsity team at Eden Hall, and high school hockey would go on without him.

Now, it was onto the NYU Violets, harder practices and training, and juggling a political science major in between. Which wasn't his biggest priority. Not that Adam didn't recognize the value in a college degree. He knew he couldn't play pro hockey forever, as most players aged out of the NHL by their mid-thirties at the very latest. But he wasn't overly concerned about what career he would go into later as long as he played hockey now. In the NHL he definitely wouldn't have to worry about using his degree, but he would have it as a fall-back. It had been difficult for Adam to figure out what to major in, but his dad had nudged him toward political science, telling him he had a good mind for business and law. Phil felt that if his son were to choose either of those careers, a background in political science would suit the best. As Adam didn't really have any other ideas, he decided to start there.

There were other ways in which his dad was butting into his life, too. He discovered this late one night when he came in from supervising an emergency plumbing job at one of the rental houses. He was tired and had a headache. But his dad called him to his office.

When his dad called him into his office, it meant something serious. He never visited Adam in his bedroom, or invited Adam into his own. He imagined it must mean that his dad felt that "office visits" implied great purpose..

"Yeah?" Adam asked simply, sitting down on the edge of the seat in front of his dad's desk, hoping the way in which he was perched would give his dad a message that he really wasn't in the mood for this.

"Adam, there's a doctor I want you to see." His dad got right down to the point. "He's in Syracuse, and he's an expert in something called holistic medicine. It basically means, he looks for alternative methods of treating medical conditions. And from what I've read, he's had great success. Now I'm footing the bill for this, and I want you to go. There's no reason we should just accept the fact that you're going to be in this kind of shape for the rest of your life."

Adam sat still, trying to process all that his dad had just said. Finally, he spoke. "Dad, uh…I don't really have time to go, is the thing. I'm about to go to camp in Ontario, then we're doing the San Francisco trip, and…I mean, can this wait a little while? Like Christmas break? Since the playoffs, things have been pretty okay."

"Oh yeah? Does that include last Saturday night when you didn't even want to come downstairs for dinner because your hips were making it impossible?"

Feeling heat creep into his face, Adam retorted, "Dad, that was one night. I used the ice and stuff, and it resolved itself by Monday. I mean, there are going to be flares, remember? I don't think any doctor can take those out completely for me. Charlie and I went out for pizza, and I guess, just…the crust…"

"No gluten, no exceptions, Son." His dad's mouth was a firm line as he regarded Adam. "We've got to get you well before your first season with the Violets. This isn't going to be high school hockey. You need to be on top of your game like you've never been before. So, I've made you an appointment…"

Adam took the Post-It note his dad handed over. It rankled him how his father always bulldozed ahead, not willing to accept his no. But what he hated more was how he, himself, never pushed against him very hard.

"It lands between camp in Ontario and your birthday in San Francisco, so you should be able to make it. I've got the plane tickets ready."

Fingering the thin paper between his fingers, Adam looked back up at him. "Tickets?"

"Yes. You and I are going."

Crap.

"So get together all your documentation from Dr. Bartlett and Roger over at the hospital. This guy might need it. All right?" His dad stood up, signaling the end of the conversation.

Adam sighed. It wasn't that he had an issue with trying new doctors. It was that his dad would demand everything be done on his terms. And that would render Adam beholden to him in yet another way. So, there was that to contend with in a few weeks.

But meanwhile, he was focusing solely on showing his worth to everyone at EliteEdge Hockey Camp. And, of course, spending time with Lacey.

Thinking about being cut off from her except for an odd weekend visit here and there and holiday breaks after heading to NYU was excruciating. Not that he'd have had a lot of time to devote to maintaining his relationship in person, anyway, but Lacey's sheer presence did something for him that nothing else did–not even hockey, entirely. And he missed her already.

"What if you work hard and get an academic scholarship, then transfer to NYU to be with me?" Adam mentioned one day as they rested on the ground in the park after their run, flopped onto their backs and staring up at the sky lazily. "Or get loans…"

Lacey sighed. "I don't really make the grades to get an academic scholarship, Adam, and I don't think loan money would cover even half my education at a place like NYU. It's a rich Ken and Barbie school. You realize that, right?"

Her voice took on a sarcastic edge, but Adam could see why. Lacey was right. New York University was a college the affluent, mostly, went to. She likely wouldn't be accepted there or be able to pay for it, and probably wouldn't be comfortable there anyway. The two of them would just have to double down and take advantage of low night and weekend phone rates, and pre-planned visits. If Lacey had a computer, they could use dial-up to log onto AOL Messenger and chat there. Adam was fully prepared to white knuckle as tightly as he could to keep them connected.

"How about this," he suggested one evening at her house. "We agree on a certain time for you to go over to my parents' house and use their internet, and I'll log onto my computer at school."

Her face brightened for a few seconds before she fairly wilted. "Adam, I don't know how to even use the internet that well. How embarrassing would it be for me to have to ask your dad to help me find where you are every time?"

"He won't have to, because I'll teach you. Before I go. Hmm?" He moved some stray hair to kiss her cheek. "Then we can talk and write papers at the same time."

Her smile was uncertain, but she nodded. "Okay. Let's go to your place one day and–"

"DANCE PARTY!"

Adam rolled his head against the back of the couch, snickering. Stuart picked the most random times to do this with his kids.

"Yay yay yay! Adam, get up!" Ariel rushed over to pull him up on his feet just as Stuart pressed Play on the tape deck and "It's My Life" by Brit band Talk Talk blared over the speakers, emitting all kinds of wild antics from the twins, including aerobic leg kicks, and even some hip bumping from Lacey. Nobody ever danced with any kind of order during these things, but Adam suspected that's what made them fun. He usually found himself joining in on some level.

Needless to say, that was the end of the discussion.

June rolled past, and July fourth found Adam sitting atop the Primmer/McBrayer house–first time he'd ever been on a roof–watching fireworks from afar. It was, he had to admit, one of the neatest experiences he'd ever had. Typically his family went to the country club and watched the fireworks festival lakeside in Edina, but Lacey's family, obviously not having access to the same privilege, made their own fun since the park that hosted the show was typically too packed out to get a good view. He and Lacey ended up staying on the roof long after everyone else left, using the time alone to lose themselves in one another's embrace.

The next week saw the pair of them, plus Averman and Kristy, attending a Weezer concert in St. Paul. He'd rather have gone with about anybody else when Lacey had proposed it to him, but Adam was pleasantly surprised to find that Averman, while still quite the funnyman, had grown up a little since they were kids. He wasn't so annoying anymore. In a way, Adam surprisingly missed the guy's extra quirkiness. The best part of the double date though was witnessing how close Kristy and Lacey were. Lacey had officially accomplished what Adam never had: making a best friend.

He obviously loved his team more than almost anything. But he'd always felt a little apart from most of the members. He knew his wealth was probably a big factor, as well as his reserved personality. It hadn't been the way he'd wanted it, but he hadn't ever known how to change it. He and Charlie had always had a good rapport, but the guy was so popular and friendly with the others on the team–not to mention at school.

But he had long felt that if he could have been close to anyone on the team, it would have been Fulton. Something about the defenseman's good-natured, uncomplicated personality resonated with Adam. Yet once again, he felt that his background got in the way. Why did so many on the team seem to resent his so-called "privilege"? He always tried hard to ensure no one felt he looked down on them, and he had even, over the years, used his status to do nice things, like get everyone into his dad's suite at Vulcans games and hold parties at his place. At Christmas he went out of his way to be generous, doing things like paying for everyone when they went out for their holiday party. It had been his mom who, a little too late during senior year, broke some news to him.

"Hon, maybe they feel a little intimidated. You're the guy who pays for everything and lavishes them with things. It could be that that reminds them of their differences from you."

"But why would that intimidate them? I'm trying to show them that they don't need to be intimidated. That I like them and want them to like me," Adam had defended.

"Well of course I know that's what you intend, because I'm Mom and I know your heart. I'm just saying though, when you look at it from their perspective, it may seem a little like you're showing off our money."

He'd brooded over that for days before deciding she was right. So this past year, he'd foregone paying for the Christmas party. So much for finding a bosom buddy in one of his teammates, as well-meaning as they–and he–had been. Adam just opted to appreciate the friendships he'd forged with them as they were, and not what he wished they were.

Hockey camp in Ontario was full-on brutal. Adam had come armed with all his medications, his vitamins, Rachel's oils, and his heating pad. After his first day in the weight room, he prepared himself to face an onslaught of pain that night. But thankfully, it wasn't too bad. This disease, he was learning, had rhyme and reason only sometimes. Other times, you had no idea what you were going to get.

Adam couldn't suppress the smugness that crept into his attitude upon seeing that he was level with, if not surpassing, the other guys at camp. He'd been right to work himself at full-tilt every morning even after hockey season was over. He spent a week focusing on off-ice training such as stickhandling and recovery, sprints and acceleration, aerobic and core building, and, of course, strength. The second week was on-ice training.

It hadn't been practical to call home from Ontario as the rates were so high, and the dorm they were housed in didn't allow calls outside of Canada unless they were collect. So he wrote very brief letters to people at the halfway point. He was way too exhausted to say much, but he wanted his parents to know he was okay and Lacey to know he was thinking of her.

Adam returned home more determined than ever to become an NHL prospect, and a little too happy to show his dad he didn't need him to run medical interference.

July flew by. Lacey continued to come over frequently, not only to see Adam, but to see his mom for art lessons. And she was becoming quite good.

"Look!" She beamed as she unveiled her picture of a goldfish, so artfully shaded and highlighted that he could practically reach out and touch its shimmering scales.

"Wow, hey. That's pretty incredible." He came close and studied every detail. He was not only proud of Lacey, but proud of his mom for being such a great teacher.

"Oh, and your mom explained to me the peacock thing."

"What peacock thing?" He asked absently, reaching down to pick up Stella, who was mewing for attention.

"She never told you?!"

"More like I guess I never asked," Adam shrugged.

"Well, so she told the story about the friend she learned to paint alongside in college. Freida I think? Anyway, a peacock was this girl's first painting. And she was so proud of it she was motivated to go on to become a serious artist, and collected peacock memorabilia because it reminded her of how far she'd come as a painter. But then she died when she was pretty young from breast cancer. So your mom carried the torch forward, and do you realize she has a hidden peacock in each one of her paintings?"

Adam straightened, the little cat purring away in his arms. "Wait, what?"

Lacey nodded excitedly. "Yeah. Come look. You can see them if you look closely."

Sure enough, each and every one of his mom's paintings on the wall featured a small peacock feather somewhere in the image, even if only in the background. But it was only present if you knew what you were looking for.

"It's your mom's signature. I can't believe you didn't know this!" Lacey lectured.

Adam was mildly embarrassed. "I guess, I mean…I always hated that big peacock painting in the foyer, but I never bothered to ask her why she painted it. But now it kind of makes sense."

"Yeah. So your mom told me it would be kind of cool if I came up with my own signature. And so I'm thinking of what I want to include in my paintings. What do you think?" Lacey inquired excitedly.

"A cat. Absolutely. That's your biggest thing." He leaned over and bumped her gently.

Lacey tilted her head. "Hmm. Maybe."

But she didn't seem satisfied quite yet.

Give her time.

/*/*/

Summer was fast winding to a close. Yvette was rushing Adam to get all he needed for his private dorm room. There could be nothing worse, in his opinion, than having to share his space, and even though his mom needled him about it, he stood firm.

"Hey, let him have his own room," Phil argued in his defense, responding to his mom's admonition that he needed the full college experience, messy roommates, obnoxious guests, "sexiles" and all. "He'll study better that way. I always did. I practically lived in the campus library when I was in school. I had a roommate way more interested in grass than in academics. And I don't mean the kind in the yard."

As Adam was quickly rounding up all the necessary items for living, his mom helping a little more than he wanted her to, his parents were also busy planning the last big adventure of the summer.

"So, your birthday trip's in two weeks, huh?" his mom asked innocently enough, until he caught the wink between her and his dad at the dinner table one night.

He raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Remember how you mentioned wishing we could take Lacey with us to San Francisco, being that it's where she's always wanted to go?"

"Mmm hmm?" He stopped chewing his tilapia.

"Well, that's what we're going to do. The four of us, and of course Travis and Gretchen, if they're still dating in two weeks. Happy birthday, Sweetie," His mom broke out in a big grin.

Adam was so stunned he nearly choked, but then reality began to set in and he had to steel himself against pumping the air and shouting "YES!"

"Want to call after dinner and tell her?"

Did he ever.

Lacey, much more expressive than him, had no trouble bouncing off the walls for them both. She squealed loudly, right in his ear, then shouted to her entire family, "I'M GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO!"

He had to laugh. Her infectious excitement was only one thing he loved about her.

For the next week, the two of them chatted and planned, poring over a travel guide she borrowed from the library. Of course Adam knew their own plans would have to jive in some way or another with his parents', plus Travis and Alicia's. It could be tricky to travel with so many people. He'd done it plenty of times before.

But Lacey, as usual, was unbothered. It always amazed him how a girl with such a free spirit could be tormented at the very same time with terrible anxiety. He often found himself studying her hair discreetly for signs of pulling, and when he occasionally did see a broken off strand, it crushed his heart like nothing else. Adam wanted to make everything better for her. But he knew he couldn't, so he was just going to stand by her side and help her get through the tough moments as best he could.

He had no way of knowing the toughest of them was right around the corner.

One afternoon, just as he'd come in from drilling on the ice with Connie, Guy and Julie, the phone rang. He dropped his bag and stick in the very place his mom fussed at him for leaving it, spotting Lacey's number on the Caller ID and smiling. Odd timing, though. She usually worked on Mondays until three.

"Hey, Babe," he greeted, crading the cordless phone on his shoulder as he picked back up his hockey gear and headed up to his room with it. "Did you have fun playing with your cats?"

But all he heard for a solid fifteen seconds was soft crying.

"Lacey?" He stopped on the staircase. "What's wrong? What happened?"

At last she spoke in a choked voice. "My dad was just killed."