Marco

I looked around, staring at all the dark clad people walking around. I was standing in a cemetery with my dad. I was wearing a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Not very appealing, but I was at a funeral. I had skipped school for this. Personally, I would have preferred school over this, but I had to go. Partly because I was being forced and partly because this was Jake's dad and I had to be there for Jake.

"This sucks," I muttered to my dad.

"Watch your mouth, kiddo," my dad said. "We're at a funeral. Pay your respects."

I looked around, hoping to spot Rachel. Cassie had to go to school and Tobias and Ax decided that this wasn't their place, so it was only going to be Rachel and me. I scanned the cemetery and the faces of the many people walking past. A little girl ran past.

"Mummy!" she screamed. "Mummy, look, daddy's here!"

I turned around to look in the direction the little girl was pointing at. A tall man was standing there, hugging a girl with long blonde hair. Rachel.

A woman walked briskly past us, Rachel's mum, with another girl following, Rachel's sister Jordan. The little girl, Rachel's other sister, Sara, jumped into her father's arms.

Rachel turned around and spotted me. She started to walk away from the crowd and towards a clutter of graves.

"Hey, dad, I'll be back in a minute," I said.

"What, you going to leave me here by myself?" he asked desperately.

"You'll be fine," I said. "Just don't talk to any strange people."

He laughed, then looking around uncertainly, muffled his laughter. I walked off in the direction of Rachel. She was wearing a black dress and a black hat, her hair swaying around her.

"We have to stop meeting like this," I said in a low seductive voice.

"Shut up," she snapped. "I only called you over because I wanted to let you know Tobias got the information off Erek."

"Yeah?" I asked, trying not to sound too happy.

"We were right," she said. "Saturday. Tomorrow."

"Where?"

"They're holding a beach party," she said. "It'll be held then."

"Arrange a meeting after school's out," I said. "The funeral will be over by then."

"Hey gang," some one said behind us.

I turned around. The last three people on Earth I would expect to be at a funeral were standing right in front of me. Ed, Mark and Nathan.

"What do you want?" Rachel snapped.

Obviously Rachel was pretty ticked off for what these guys did to Tobias.

"Just payin' our respects," Mark said, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"You pay your respects by smoking at a funeral?" I asked as Rachel smacked the cigarette out of his hand and stood on it with her heel.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Ed asked. "You don't like smoking? Your cousin sure does."

"You stay away from my cousin," Rachel hissed.

"Are you his mother now?" Nathan asked. "He can take care of himself."

"Where is Jake, anyways?" Mark asked, looking out towards the crowd. "His mum and his brother are here."

I looked over at the crowd and saw Jake's mum hugging Rachel's dad. Tom was standing in the background looking gloomy, but there was no sign of Jake. I glanced at Rachel nervously.

"I'll see what's going on," she muttered.

Ed made a move to follow her, but she stopped in front of him.

"Family only," she snapped. "Come on, Marco."

"He's not family," Nathan objected.

"Close enough," Rachel said grabbing my arm and dragging me off.

As I drew closer I could hear them talk. My dad and joined in and was talking with Rachel's dad.

"Where's Jake?" Rachel asked Naomi.

Naomi sighed. "He refused to come," she said.

"And I'm going over there to drag him here," Rachel's father said angrily.

"Let him be, Dan," Naomi said. "If you drag him over here he's going to resent it."

"I don't care," Dan argued. "This is his dad's funeral. This is his obligation. Hell, I'd want my kids to go to my funeral."

"Don't worry about it Dan," Jean said.

"And what about you?" he raged, turning to Tom. "You just let your brother sleep in during your father's funeral."

"Like he would have listened to me," Tom said. "He doesn't listen to what I say anymore."

"I'm getting him," Dan said, making up his mind and walking towards the many cars parked on the side street of the cemetery.

"Dan, get back here," Naomi shouted, gaining curious glares.

Dan walked back up to her, but turned his attention to Jean.

"Jake is a good, mature boy," he said. "Is he on drugs?"

"Come on," my dad said, tugging my elbow. "We're going to leave them."

"No," I said, shaking him. "I want to hear this."

Strangely, he didn't object but just stayed there.

"I hope not!" Jean said angrily.

"Well that's the only reason I can think of why Jake is acting this way," Dan said.

"Yes, why is your son not here," a voice said from behind us.

I turned around. Constables Doyle and Lawson from the hospital were standing before us, uniform and all.

"What are you doing here?" Jean asked. "The service starts in ten minutes."

"Unfortunately, this is the only place we could reach you," Doyle said. "As you have conveniently been tied up or away when we visit you."

"My family comes before the police," Jean snapped.

"Then you wouldn't mind being present when your son is being interviewed by the police," Lawson spoke curtly.

"I don't want him to be interviewed by the police," Jean challenged. "After what you people did to my husband…"

"That was a necessary precaution," Doyle said raising his voice. "We have taken your car into a mechanic, or what was left of the car. It was in perfect condition, which means that foul play cannot be suspected. The doctors have confirmed that the two persons involved in the accident, your husband and your youngest son, were both conscious at the same time. Which means either that it was a careless accident, the road was unworthy, which I seriously doubt, or it was a suicidal incident."

"My husband was not suicidal," Jean nearly shouted. People were definitely staring.

"I'm not saying he is," Doyle said.

"Then what are you saying?" Naomi asked. "Because this conversation is leading to nowhere and the funeral starts in two minutes."

"I am saying that maybe your husband wasn't suicidal, but maybe your son is," Doyle studied Jean carefully.

"That's stupid," someone said angrily and to my surprise that someone was me.

Lawson turned to me. "Are you a friend of Jake's?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, unflinchingly as Lawson sized me up. "And Jake wouldn't kill himself. He's not suicidal."

Lawson ignored me and turned to Jean. "The psychiatrists say he has adolescent depression and this has been coming for a long time. Unless the driver was careless, which I also doubt, this was a suicidal attempt by either your son or your husband."

"We need to speak with him immediately," Doyle said.

"He's not here," Jean snapped angrily.

"He's at home then," Lawson said. "You can either come with us now or we can wait until the funeral is over."

"We'll wait," Jean said quietly as the priest jumped out of his car.