A/N: This is the last chapter.

CHAPTER 13

I finished my autobiography on a Friday night, and looked at what I'd written, as well as the pictures that Mum and I had saved over the years (not the strawberry shortcake one, of course), and thought I'd done a pretty good job on it. After all, like I said before, I had quite a story to tell, and in my opinion, I'd done just that.

I went into the living room to show my work to Mum, who was sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea and a cigarette. I sat beside her as she read, and I could tell that all those old memories were coming back to her as well: our arrival in America, meeting Steve and Bebe, their wedding, my self-defense training, the fight I'd gotten my scar in, Granny's funeral, and our move to Stoneybrook.

"Very nice, love," she said, handing it back to me.

"Thanks," I said. "I'm going to type this up tomorrow and turn it in to Mr. Fiske when I go back to school on Tuesday."

"Well, I'm sure you'll get a good grade on it," Mum said, taking one last puff on her cigarette and putting it out. "I know I really enjoyed reading it."

"Thanks, Mum. Well, I think I'll call it a night now."

"Okay," Mum said. "Good night, love."

"Good night."

After a quick and hug and kiss, I went to my room, laid my work on my desk, and climbed into bed. As I drifted off to sleep, listening to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon CD, I had a pretty good feeling about the outcome of this project.

The next morning, I got up early, typed my autobiography, and did a spell-check. It was ready to be turned in.

In fact, I felt so good about my work, I decided to go for a ride on my motor scooter. It was almost 11:30, the sun was out, and the birds were singing, which was perfect weather for a bike ride.

"See you later, Mum," I called as I bounded out the door.

"Have fun," she called from the kitchen. "Don't stay out too long."

"I won't," I answered.

I headed out of the parking lot and started up McLelland Road, where Kristy lives. Karen and Andrew were playing in the yard, under the watchful eye of Kristy's brother, Sam, who's my age. When he saw me coming, we waved to each other. "Hey, Jason!" he shouted.

"Hi, Sam," I answered.

"Hi, Jason!" Karen exclaimed when she saw me coming.

"Hi," I called, parking my motor scooter. As soon as I got off my bike, Karen and Andrew ran up and hugged me. They're so sweet. "How have you guys been?"

"Oh, pretty good," Andrew smiled. Even though he can be really shy with people, he's always glad to see me.

"It's great to see you, Jason," Karen added. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, not much," I answered. "I just finished writing my autobiography."

"Your what?" Andrew asked. I could tell he had no idea what I was talking about.

"Autobiography," I answered, sounding each syllable out. "That means I wrote a story about my life so far."

One of the things I told them was about when Mum and I first came to America. "You must have been scared," Karen commented.

I nodded. "I'm just glad my aunt and uncle let us stay with them until we found a place of our own."

Just then, their dad came to the door. "Karen! Adrew! Time for lunch!" he called.

"Hi, Watson!" I called. He nodded and waved back as Karen and Andrew each gave me another hug and kiss, then followed Sam and Watson inside as I got back on my bike and took off.

A few minutes later, I found myself cruising up Bradford Court, where Claudia Kishi lives, and stopped outside her house. We'd just started dating during our school's recent production of Carnival, and next month, we were going to the Spring Dance.

Oh, I don't mean to get off the subject here, but Kristy once told me that when she was growing up, she and Mary Anne lived next door to each other, and both of them lived across the street from Claudia. If you connected their houses, it made a triangle. Nowadays, the Perkins' and the Hobarts' live in Kristy's and Mary Anne's old houses.

"Hi, Jason!" Claudia grinned as she came out the front door. She was wearing a bright red over-sized T-shirt with silver and white sparkle-paint designs on it, zebra-striped stirrup pants, white socks, and those rainbow sneakers she'd made. As she came down the steps, she put on a long-sleeved denim shirt with the Japanese flag pin on the pocket. Even if she was wearing the grungiest outfit in the world, she'd still look pretty hot.

"Hi, Claud," I said, turning off the bike's motor. She ran out to the curb and gave me a kiss on the lips.

"What have you been doing all weekend?" she asked.

"Oh, I've mostly been working on my autobiography," I answered.

"Oh, boy, they got to you, too, huh?" she said sympathetically. I could tell that she was as far from thrilled as she could be about this assignment.

"Actually, I kind of enjoyed working on it," I confessed. "In fact, one of the things I wrote about was seeing the Bon Jovi concert at Madison Square Garden on my eighth birthday."

"No way! Really? That's so cool!" Claud exclaimed. "Mind if I read it sometime?"

"Not at all."

"Well, I was just on my way to the Rodowskys'," Cluad told me. "Hopefully, we'll be able to make it through the job in one piece."

"Yeah, I hear you," I agreed. I'm told that whenever one of the BSC members sits over there, they're always prepared for some kind of disaster, courtesy of Jackie. "Want a ride?"

"Sure, I'd love one."

She got on the back of my bike, and we were off.

I turned in my project on Tuesday. The following Monday, when we got them back, I flipped to the back, got a good look at my grade (A+!), and the note from Mr. Fiske, which, as I later found out, is something he always did:

Jason,

First of all, excellent work. I could hardly put this down. It was such an interesting story, mainly your description of when you and your mother first came to America. I could really sympathize with you, and after reading your story, I believe that you're a survivor, in every sense of the word. Welcome to Stoneybrook! Carpe diem!

Mr. Fiske

THE END