Stevo groaned. With Jacey in the house, he too had spent all night thinking about Bob. For the first time in months he had opened up to Brandy, burying his head in her shoulder and crying until he seemed to be out of tears to cry with. Brandy had tried to be understanding, but it scared her a little. It was enough trying to deal with a guy dying from something he took at her party.

Jacey looked up at him. "I know it's hard," she said quietly, "Trust me, it'll be hard for me to hear, too."

The room was silent for a while.

Stevo looked up. "He overdosed, Jacey."

"What? Bob… yeah right. You're lying."

"No… he did. On accident. I think he was drunk and then he took something."

"No… he would never…"

"I know. It's hard to believe, but it happened."

Jacey nodded and got up. Stevo knew she needed some time alone, so he didn't go after her.

Jacey bumped into Marshall in the hallway. She thought he had left the night before.

"You're still here?"

"Um. I live here," he chuckled.

"Oh… I thought. Nevermind."

"My parents died when I was twelve. Brandy and me have been like siblings ever since."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yep. Oh I heard about your brother. I've been at school, so I never met him, but I'm really sorry."

"Thanks." Jacey started to leave, but Marshall stopped her."

"Hey, um… you wanna play some pool? Or talk? Or something… anything?"

"I'm not really up to anything right now. Maybe later."

Jacey ran up stairs, sat on the bed, and begged herself to remember something good. A picture flashed in her mind. Christmas. Bob was there. She was 13.

"Hey." Bob handed Jacey a present. "It's from Dad."

She opened the present. It was a thing to hang on her door. It said JACQUELINE in big gold letters. She knew it was from Bob. Her dad hadn't given her a present since she was 6. "Tell him I say thanks." She looked Bob in the eyes. He knew she knew. He smiled that real smile… the one he barely ever showed to anyone except her.

Jacey opened her eyes and darted to the closet. She opened up a small bag in the corner, one of two she had brought. The one with all the important stuff in it. There it was, on top. The wooden decoration with the gold letters. She pulled it out and hung it on the handle of the door. "Tell him I say thanks," she whispered. She didn't know who she was talking to – Her mom? Bob? "I miss you."

She went downstairs. Brandy and Marshall were swimming in the pool and Stevo was smoking just outside the front door. She went outside, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket, and lit one.

"You smoke?"

"Yeah… you do too."

Stevo chuckled, releasing a big puff of gray smoke into the air.

"I thought you hated SLC. Why are you still here?"

"It's something Bob said before he died. This was home to him. I don't want to leave. It'd be like leaving him behind."

"But don't you think he would have wanted you to leave? Move to New York, have fun?"

"Well, next year I'm going to Harvard. I'm gonna be a lawyer. I just wanted to stick around for a while… for Bob. For you."

"For me?"

"Yeah. I mean… you've been stuck with your grandma and I just thought you should come out here for a while. Of course California's probably sweet, right?"

"It's nothing special… way overrated."

"Oh." Stevo nodded like he had just learned some important fact he could use on a big test or something.

"You know… I met your dad for the first time a little while before Bob died."

"Really? You'd never met him before?"

"Nope. He's a little crazy."

"A little?" Jacey laughed. "So how old is Marshall?"

"He's twenty. Why? You got a thing for him?"

"No. I was just wondering."

"He just dropped out of college a little while ago," Stevo said, smashing his cigarette butt into the ashtray on the seat of the deck chair next to them.

"Why?"

"I don't know. Something about wanting to make it for himself… not depending on his parents anymore."

"His parents? He said they were dead."

"Yeah. He calls Brandy's mom and dad his parents."

"Oh." Jacey put out her cigarette and followed Stevo inside.

"You wanna go swim with them or something?"

"Not really… I'm not in the mood. Why? Where are you going?"

"Nowhere. Just out… for a little while."

Jacey looked at Stevo.

"Ok. I'm going to see Bob," he whispered.

"Can I come?"

"I guess. Come on."

It was warm outside, but a breeze picked up Jacey's long, black hair and made it bounce up and down.

Stevo walked slowly on the path through the cemetery. He looked like he was counting his steps as he clenched his fists deep in his pockets. Jacey just followed, glancing at the graves they passed. Finally they stopped. Jacey's eyes hit the first name on the stone – ROBERT. It looked so strange. She'd never thought of his real name before. He was always Bobby… or Bob. Her eyes fell on the year. 1963 – 1985. Such a short life.