A/N: You guys must hate me! I'm sososososo sorry for not updating sooner, I feel terrible about it. I had to have some kind of inspiration... and then when I saw the season 4 promos I just had to continue this story. So here's chapter four, I hope you like it. Chocolate cake for extra-long reviews!

I hadn't expected it to be so cold outside. When I stepped out into the open from the common room, I had to bury myself deeper into my jacket to keep warm. My teeth started to chatter against each other, and I could feel my fingertips stimulate themselves.

I passed the other half of the girls' dormitories, continuing on my way to the store. But what I had foolishly forgotten about this route to the campus store, I soon noticed.

There was a small crowd of about twenty people standing outside the hockey arena, which I had completely forgotten about until now. The line went out the door, so it was pretty obvious that they were all fussing over the pictures of the two new additions to our school's oh-so-wonderful hockey team.

"Marco! Man, c'mere!" I saw a buddy of Kevin's waving over to me at the front of the line. I walked up to him; my face shaded a bit with embarrassment.

"Uh- hey Trey."

"Dude, the new kid got here today. Everyone's going crazy over here." He wavered a bit on his feet, telling me that Kevin wasn't the only one to get drunk last night.

"Which new kid?" I tried to look as unknowing as I could.

"Both. Come over here and look at the pictures!" Trey pushed me through the crowd surrounding Dylan's picture. I could hear several 'oohs' and 'ahhs' from the freshman girls at the front of the line.

I kept my eyes looking downwards at everyone's feet until I reached the front of the throng, and when I looked up, I realized I should have kept looking down. My heart started to pound when I looked at Dylan's face captured into a frame, much different from anything I had.

His hair was a light colored brown now, but still the same old messy bob he always had. His eyes looked more intense than they should have, but they were still the same gorgeous blue. And his smile wasn't as bright as I remembered, but it still looked beautiful all the same. I had to admit, he looked even better now.

"That's Dylan Michalchuck, known in Toronto as one of the best player they've ever seen. One hell of a player, we're lucky to even have him on this campus!" I heard the coach exclaim to a few of the admirers.

"What a God!" The girl in front of me screamed. I couldn't take this anymore.

"I've got to go, Trey."

Dylan wondered if a hole in the ground was going to open, and have hell swallow him right then. Because he knew that that feeling couldn't be any worse than the one he was experiencing right now.

His twelfth grade yearbook lay in his hands, staring at him, taunting him, making him feel emotions he hadn't felt in three years.

At the top the page read 'Around Campus'. There was a picture of Jimmy making a basket at practice; there was another of Paige, Hazel, and Manny in their Spirit Squad uniforms. That didn't bother him at all, he was happy to see and remember the warmth and happiness that resided in his high school.

But what did bother him was the picture at the bottom of the page, the one in the left corner next to the page number.

There was Dylan, clad in a blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans. There was Marco, his hair messed up all over the place and his jean jacket only on one shoulder. And there were Dylan's hands, wrapped around Marco's shoulders, and Marco's hands over Dylan's.

Tears were gripping onto the corners of Dylan's eyes, not wanting to fall onto the fragile pieces of paper. He didn't want to remember times when he was so happy, filled with so much joy that he thought he should burst.

He let his hand halfheartedly trace over the page so full of memories and love. He knew what was at the back of the book, on the back cover. But Dylan just couldn't bring himself to flip all the pages over to see it. It was like mutilating himself without any physical contact. It felt just the same; painful and bloody all over.

"Jason! Quit!"

"I'm gonna get you!"

Dylan walked over to the window and peered out the blinds. He could see a short boy with a mess of blonde hair, and a tall brunette girl chasing each other around.

'How eerie,' he thought.

"Ouch!"

"Oh my god... I'm so sorry." Dylan looked back down to see the girl laid over another boy, whom she had obviously tackled on accident.

"Don't worry about it," the boy mumbled. He brushed off his jacket and continued down the walkway, but not before Dylan caught a glimpse of his face.

'What?' Dylan stared harder at the back of the boy's head, and then ran over to the couch and peered into the book. He picked it up and ran to the kitchen window and looked again.

'No. It can't be. Stop being such an idiot, Dylan.' He shut the book and sat back down again, rubbing his head, not being able to concentrate with all these distractions.

"You look so cute in that," I smiled. Marco looked so perfect in his white button-up shirt and black pants. It made my heart flutter just to think that he got dressed up like a geek just for me.

"You owe me, Michalchuck." He playfully pushed my shoulder and grinned that sweet smile of his.

"Really? How would you like your payment, Mr. Del Rossi?" I saw his eyes narrow and his grin get larger.

"Give me your hat," he looked at me expectantly.

I rolled my eyes up into my forehead to see my cap. Its tassel had been moved to the correct position, letting everyone in the world know that I was a high school graduate.

"Why would you want my hat?"

"For posterity."

"Here." I took the cap off and planted it on his head. "Maybe in two years you can wear it to your graduation, and I'll get it back," I grinned.

"Maybe." He reached up and softly kissed me on the cheek. "Congratulations, sweetheart."

"Thanks." I closed my eyes, filling myself into pure bliss.

"Oh my god, I forgot!" He pulled away from me and ran over to his seat right next to Paige and my parents. He grabbed his yearbook from under the seat and ran back to me. "You bum, you haven't signed my yearbook!" He shoved the book and a pen in my face and stared.

"So now I'm a bum? What about you, Mr. Hypocrite? I didn't see your hand writing in mine." I teased back.

He impatiently sighed and tapped his foot. "Fine. Where is it?"

I looked around and saw my sister conducting a scavenger through all the signatures on the front and back flaps. Probably trying to get all of the hot hockey players' phone numbers.

"Paige! Give it up! You can look in the directory, for Christ's sake!" She scowled at me and slammed the book down onto her chair and went to find her boyfriend.

Marco laughed and went to retrieve it from my sister's hot seat. He sat down in her place, took the pen I already had in there, and started to scribble something on the back cover. I looked back at his own yearbook in my hands and began to wonder what I should write.

You're great?

I love being around you?

I love you?

Whoa. Not that. I hadn't even told him that myself that, even though it was true. I looked back at him and stared at his head. I wanted to write it, I was feeling compelled to. But I knew I couldn't. He was probably writing something like,

Congratulations Dyl! Hope you do well in college.

I took in a deep breath and blew it out. I scribbled something about doing well in grade eleven, and that I couldn't wait to spend my summer with him. I avoided the 'L' word completely and just scribbled my name under my non-sentimental message. Then I closed it and looked back.

He was still writing.

I concentrated on the look on his face; he was in such a trance that even a bomb planted right at his feet couldn't have taken him out of it. And then he finished, dotted the end, and started to get up. That was when impulse took over me. I opened the book back open and put the pen onto the paper.

I love you.

Then I closed it back up and handed it to him right when he came upon me. Now I had sweat on my forehead. Shit. Why had I written that?

"Thanks." He gave me back mine and then walked away, trying not to let me notice that he was ten shades of red. Why was he the nervous one?

I cracked open the cover and smoothed down the rest of the pages. I looked around in anxiety for his loopy handwriting. I saw it there, near the end of the page, and let my eyes fall over every letter. I had to read it at least three times to get what it actually said, since I apparently had a sudden case of dyslexia.

My heart skipped a beat I'm sure, and then I looked back at him three feet away. His eyes were just as big as mine, and an expression of confusion and pure bliss on his face. He looked like an angel.

Dylan could feel hot drops slowly make their way down his face. He just couldn't believe that he was gone, and he never had gotten to say goodbye. He carefully picked up his old yearbook and opened it again. This time he flipped to the back cover and felt that same mix of love, hatred, and disappointment.

There were lines of scribble all over, where Marco had obviously crossed out parts of his message. There were bits of ink splattered everywhere also. But what he had written was still there, plain as day.

Nice job, Dylan. I couldn't be more proud.

I love you.

-Marco

"SHIT!" Dylan yelled. He threw the book on the ground and flipped over onto his other side.

"I miss him so much," he whimpered.