(Chapter 6: A Memorial Service)

Nick and Rhonda sat on the roof of Nick's van, eating their McDonalds and watching as the people filed in through the parking lot. Massive signs on the side of the gym pronounced, "First Game of the Season Tonight!" and "Candlelight Vigle to be held at 7 for our lost friends." Looking at his watch, Nick read the time to be 6:50 pm. Almost there.

"They misspelled vigil," Rhonda said with a slightly sarcastic laugh.

"Yeah, I know," Nick said. He wiped secret sauce from his hands and picked up his camera, taking a shot of the sign.

"Do you think everyone is going to show up?"

"I doubt it. I know Rudy and Clinton have to be here, they're playing after all, and their girls will be with them, so that makes six of us, then there's Tina, she's got to cheerlead so that makes seven. They won't let Mr. Christy show his face around here for some reason, so he's not going to show, and Darwin has all but disappeared off of the face of the Earth."

"So that leaves Mike and Sarah," Rhonda said with something of a shudder.

"Yeah, our two visionaries and the people who saved our lives. I don't know if they're going to want to take part in the survivor's reunion, but I've got a feeling they're going to show," Nick said confidently.

"Why?" Rhonda asked inquisitively.

"Well, Sarah's got to show, after all her girlfriend is cheerleading and all that jazz," Nick said.

"Aww, Sarah a dyke, that's just a rumor."

"Rumor Schmumor, prove to me otherwise and I'll believe you, come on, look at all that black and leather and stuff."

Trying to change the subject to fact rather than wild rumor, Rhonda brought up, "What about Mike, why's he going to show?"

Nick looked around cautiously, then spoke into Rhonda's ear, "Because he's still looking out for us."

Moving away from Nick slightly, Rhonda replied, "What does that mean?"

"I don't know, but I've caught him watching us on a few occasions, and I've seen him watch the other survivors too, not like he's spying."

"Why?"

"You'd have to ask him, he saved our lives once, something tells me he thinks he needs to do it again" Nick said, before wrapping up all his garbage in the McDonald's bag and throwing it in a nearby trash can. Sliding down the roof of the van, he hit the ground hard.

"Come on Rhonda," he said, "it's almost time."

Rhonda followed him, shaking her head slightly in disbelief, "This is Mike we're talking about, goofy Mike, the guy who sits in the library and reads Michael Crichton novels, he's not Superman."

"No," Nick said as he rooted through his backpack on the van's front seat, "but he saved our lives once because he had a vision, what's to say he won't have another?"

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In the school's main quad, a good hundred yards away from the football field and it's adjacent parking lot, there sat what was affectionately called "The Tiger Patio", a grassy knoll that the school surrounded with a statue of the school's tiger mascot in the center. After the accident, it had been transformed from an area of school pride to an area of remembrance. Flowers, garlands, pictures of the deceased and signs from family and friends were left all around. Many of the flowers were withered and dead, the accident a fading memory in the grand scheme of things, but such close knit a community would not let the memory die. Mike sat looking at a picture of Tyler, one that he had set there. He was smiling, smiling his cocky smile and trying to prove his reputation as "The Sleaze King". Mike laughed.

"Boy, those were good times, weren't they Tyler. Good times…"

"Michael, is that you?" a feminine voice asked him from behind.

He turned to see it's source, half expecting and hoping for Sarah, instead getting the smaller and less imposing Katie.

"Hey Katie, how's it going?" he asked, trying to hold back the memories.

"Not bad, how are you?" she asked apprehensively.

"Been better, same as always. Everyone thinks I'm crazy, so do I."

"I don't think you're crazy."

"Do you believe me?" he asked with pleading eyes, getting no response from her face other than pity.

"I believe you had a bad dream at the right time and we're all alive today because of you. Because of you, I have a boyfriend. I've never had a boyfriend before, let alone a football player and perhaps the nicest guy in the world. Are you going to the vigil?"

Trying to force the sincerity, Mike said, "I'm happy for you, I really am. And yeah, I got the notice, and no I'm not going to the vigil."

Normally quiet and rather aloof, Katie started speaking up with conviction, "Whatever you did, whatever happened, you've saved us, you gave us a second chance. I'm trying the best to make the most of my second chance, now why don't you?"

Looking up at the small girl with great spirit, Mike couldn't help but smile.

"All right, I'm there," he said as he stood up and joined her on the way to the field.

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The stands were packed, not because of the game, but because of the vigil that had been organized to honor the memory of the lost students. The school's principal stood on a hastily erected podium, speaking to the families and student body, proclaiming the usual sympathies that one must during a tragedy, probably meaning only half of what he said. He was flanked by Nick, Sarah, Rhonda, Lori, Clinton, Katie, Rudy, Tina and Mike, the nine surviving students, each of them holding a lit candle.

"Can we get on with this please, I've seen funerals move faster than this," Clinton muttered. Lori playfully elbowed him in the gut, cursing herself when hot wax from the candle leaked and burned her skin. Within ten minutes, candles had been passed out to nearly everyone on the home stands, while across the way supporters of the opposing team watched with a mix of reverence and utter amusement.

"Why this senseless tragedy occurred, none of us will ever know, be it the lord's will, be it fate, or be it just happenstance. Though their lives were cut short before any of them should have, their memories shall live in our hearts and minds forever," the Principal Sawyer read from a simple script, "now, we would like a moments worth of silence before we start the game."

Everyone bowed their heads, holding the candles and remaining silent. After about thirty seconds, the loudspeakers of the stadium were turned on and began to play John Lennon's "Imagine." The podium was struck down, the nine students and the administrator taking all their respective seats and positions on the field. With the memorial over, the game had begun. In more ways than one, the game had begun.