DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, the canon events of their storylines, and recognizable dialogue belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Thanks for your patience while this fic was on hiatus. During that time, I kept busy by posting a couple other VMars stories and working on an original project during NaNoWriMo. Any other WriMos out there?

Now, it's time to get back to my WIP here: this series and a Buffy fic (currently 110K words) that I've been working on for two years. My intent is to update both of these monthly.

Chapter 4 continues a modified version of #2.1 "Normal Is the Watchword" – from first day of senior year through the bus crash.

Chapter 4

Here it is. Senior year. A fresh start. Try not to screw it up, Veronica.

Normal. That's the watchword. Sounds good, doesn't it?

Normal job just like other people my age? Check.

Best friend? Check.

Boyfriend? Check.

Lilly's killer behind bars? Check.

Senior year begins today and all appears hunky dory.

But appearances can be deceiving, especially here in Neptune.

[

While getting ready for school, I thought about how much things have changed in the past two years – particularly since last spring. After all, it had been mere months since Lilly's murder was solved and the first time Weevil kissed me. This school year would certainly be different.

But does different equal normal?

Working at Java the Hut would be less dangerous – and also less interesting – than working for Dad. With him trying to keep me away from cases and Weevil trying to shield me from whatever was happening in the PCH Bike Club, it was all I could do to keep from digging under the surface to find whatever they were keeping from me. At some point, curiosity would predictably get the better of me.

For now, I tried to settle into this new normalcy.

[

I left my apartment a little earlier than I needed to, because I wanted to leave some extra time … first day and all. As I walked toward my car, I saw that Weevil was waiting for me. After a good morning kiss and a back-to-school grope, I got on the road with him following me. Pulling into the school lot, I parked in my usual area and Weevil pulled alongside Felix. After they talked briefly, he walked over to my car.

When he was close enough for me to read his eyes, I had a good idea what was about to happen. With a smirk on his face and one hand on my abdomen, he backed me up against the side of my car.

Laughter escaped from my lips as my insides turned to jelly. The possessive male returns.

"Is this the part where you mark your territory in a very public way?" I asked as I glanced around the parking lot to see who was watching us.

He slid his hand from my abs around to my back, grazing my breast on the way. His other hand moved up to my face. My hands involuntarily landed on his chest. At the same moment, I remembered my promise to him that I would not pull away in public. And seriously, when he made me feel like this, why would I?

His eyes and his voice turned dark and sexy as he said, "Just want to make sure it's clear to everyone that you're mine."

I expected him to immediately make his move. But he was taking his time. And I was becoming impatient.

Pressing against him, I gave him an order which I knew he wouldn't mind obeying. "Bésame."

"You're rather bossy today."

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Seeing the look in his eyes, I knew what he was waiting for. My voice was softer as I said, "Por favor."

"You know I love it when you say please."

The kiss began as a bit of theatre, but quickly escalated to something that could not continue in public. His lips had made their way to a spot on my neck that he knew drove me wild.

He whispered in my ear, "We'll finish this later. Gotta get to class." Leaning away from me, he stroked the side of my face and studied me as if he hadn't seen me in weeks. "You look beautiful today."

"Thanks. You look dashing, as usual. But I think the lip gloss looks better on me." I wiped his lips with my thumb – slowly, while holding his gaze.

"Keep that up and we'll be skipping the first day of school. I'll put you on my bike and drive somewhere … anywhere we can be alone."

"No way. I am not explaining to your grandma why you're in trouble on the first day." With a hand on his chest, I gently pushed his weight off me.

He signaled to Felix that we were heading in. As we began walking, his arm went around my shoulders and mine went around his waist. If anyone had any doubts about whether we were still a couple, those doubts were now gone.

We were near the flagpole when Wallace approached us. He nodded as he said hello to Weevil and then looked at me. "You didn't call me back last night."

"Don't go gettin' all girl on me."

Weevil kissed my temple and said, "And on that note … I'll see you later, cariño."

Beaming at him, I said, "Count on it, querido."

I turned to Wallace as he said, "According to the letter I opened last night, I failed my drug test. I'm booted from athletics for the whole year."

"You don't do drugs."

"No duh, Sherlock. And it wasn't just me."

"I heard." Seeing his confused expression, I added, "I stopped at The Hut on the way home last night to check on my schedule. Kelvin Moore dropped by and told me his sad tale of woe. I just didn't realize that you had the same sad tale."

"You would … if you'd have called me back." Then, Wallace filled in a few details that Kelvin had left out – like the fact that Meg's test came back positive. "So, you'll help?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Shaking my head, I remembered the inner monologue I had running in front of the mirror this morning. "Just when I think I'm out, they pull me back in."

In between normal first day activities, I questioned a few classmates. Later, I had a brainstorming session with Wallace and asked my dad how to track down a missing puzzle piece. Unsurprisingly, this perfectly capable investigator solved the mystery surrounding the drug tests. Some particularly unscrupulous parents had paid off a lab technician to falsify the test results of five starting athletes, ensuring that their kids would be moved up on the roster. Mr. Clemmons seemed to appreciate my assistance in bringing the truth to light.

[

[

When I was still looking into the drug test results, I approached Meg to ask her about it. I expected her to be cold, but did not expect the jealous venom that spewed from her. At some point in our brief interaction, she basically said she blamed me for Duncan breaking up with her, implying that he was still in love with me.

Although she had yet to warm up to me, she had moved into the gloating phase of our cold war. Because about a week into the school year, she and Duncan were back together.

There was still some tension among the 09ers. Logan and Duncan were on the outs. Apparently, Logan expected Duncan to be an unconditionally supportive friend while Logan's dad awaited trial. Although Logan couldn't see it, it was understandable that Duncan would find that difficult since Mr. Echolls was accused of murdering Duncan's sister. Not to mention, Mr. & Mrs. Kane had their own legal problems this summer.

All of that mess was so not my problem.

[

[

During the first week of school, I visited Miss James to ask for her assistance. I told her that I had been tutoring him last year, but I wanted to step up the effort this year to make sure he graduated. She seemed eager to help me. I asked her to get me copies of his textbooks and see if she could get me advanced notice of his assignments, plus quiz and test schedule. She said that if he would agree to meet with her weekly to check on his progress, she would be willing talk to his teachers, tell them that she was working with him, and see if they would communicate information to her.

I talked to him about it. At first, he didn't like the idea – of having to meet with her or of giving his teachers a reason to single him out. I was able to convince him that it could only help. And once they saw the effort that he was putting in to reach his goal of graduation, they would be more likely to help him, rather than waiting for him to fail.

Miss James came through on the textbooks. I kept my copies of the books in the trunk of my car. With Dad's permission, I made an extra set of car keys and gave them to Weevil. That way, whether we were meeting at my apartment to do homework or if he was dropping by The Hut to use a table while I was at work, the books would be available. And he wouldn't have to carry them around with him.

[

[

Weevil had a lot on his plate: helping his grandma (though she needed him less now than a few months ago), putting in a new level of effort at school, back to his leadership duties with the PCH, and he had gone into business with Mac.

Back at the beginning of the summer, Mac needed some work done on her car. They worked out a trade. Somewhere in their conversation, Weevil brought up that he was doing some work for an 09er. That conversation put both of their brains in motion.

Mac pointed out that 02ers had skills that 09ers could pay for – like academic prowess or the willingness to clean up after a party or the skills to repair a car damaged during a joy ride. Everyone had something to trade or something they needed. Why not set up a website where people could barter? It would primarily be for students, but maybe eventually for the town or an even wider audience.

He didn't tell me anything about the business plan they were hatching until my birthday, but things had been in the works for a while at that point. Even then, he didn't tell me everything going on in his head – and he wouldn't until later, when it became necessary.

Mac agreed to set up the website, get advertisers, and serve as admin – for a percentage of the profits, of course. They agreed to a 50-50 split. In addition, he could pick up some side jobs through the site. If it did as well as Mac thought it would, he might not need to work as many shifts at Angel's shop (or any at all).

I could tell that Mac was excited about the idea and the potential cash flow. Last year, she had wanted to start a website where students could 'Get the Dirt' on their parents. I had decided against it. Maybe, I needed to rethink going into business with Mac. A source of income that did not require me to be polite to classmates I despised? That sounded appealing right now.

[

[

There were things I liked about working at Java the Hut; there were things I didn't like so much. Apart from the possibility of burns resulting from hot beverages or the rare occurrence of the truly psycho customer, the potential for danger in this job was less than working for Dad. But it was also more predictable and some days I craved the unexpected.

Then again, sometimes an ordinary day was welcome.

One day, a familiar face showed up at work. He didn't want a table or even a latte to go; he just wanted to talk to me. More correctly, he wanted to talk at me – to throw accusations, threats, and insults.

In the midst of his lengthy speech (which I tried to ignore while cleaning the counter work area after a 30-minute rush), Thumper had this to say: "Not sure what you wanted with him, but now that he got what he wanted from you, you can bet he'll be moving on. He has more important things to do … and other girls to do. Why don't you do yourself a favor and exit before you're asked to leave? Things could get a little rough. You might get hurt."

"Is that a threat?"

He was sneering as he replied. "Statement of fact. Wouldn't want a fragile little thing like you to get caught in the crossfire."

"See … it still sounds like a threat."

"Just lookin' out for you." He shrugged. "Isn't that what we were ordered to do?"

I did not respond, hoping he was finished and would be leaving. He leered at me with his tongue out on his upper lip. As he ran a finger down my arm, a chill ran down my spine.

After another moment of staring at me, he did finally leave. On my break, I texted Felix and told him that we needed to talk because Thumper had dropped by.

At the end of my shift, Felix was waiting for me. He told me that Weevil was going to meet us at the warehouse behind my dad's office.

[

Like we always did, Felix and I went in the front of the office building, left lights on in the office, locked it back up, and walked across the alley. Weevil was already there.

Although they didn't like that Thumper felt he could show up in a public place and threaten me, they assured me that they had things under control and they would protect me. Through the course of the conversation, I learned that Thumper had escalated his efforts – feeding bigger lies to Felix and Weevil. The downside of letting Thumper think he was gaining ground was that the other guys were starting to question Weevil's leadership.

The two of them still wouldn't tell me exactly why they were worried about Thumper and had yet to let me in on their plan.

[

[

To keep my mind off things, I tried to stay busy. Even with senior year classes, looking through college brochures, working at The Hut, and tutoring Weevil, I found myself with too much time on my hands.

Earlier in the summer, Mac put some new software on my computer, I decided it was time to take the software for a test drive. I remembered that there were some surveillance photos from Club Mojo where some faces in the background were in shadow and often only a partial view.

I found out exactly how good the new software was at cleaning up images. Those faces that had been a complete mystery when I originally took the photos were now nearly crystal clear.

But I was left with a question: What was Thumper doing in that alley?

Among the newly visible faces, there were a few I hadn't seen before and didn't recognize. I decided this would be a good time to ask Leo for a favor.

Even though it was late at night, I texted him so that I wouldn't forget in the morning. I didn't expect a response, but he was working the night shift. I called Leo and explained that I had some photos that were connected to a missing person case we had solved and that although we were done with the case, I had been going back through the photos.

He could hear that I was ramping up to a request. "What do you need, Veronica?"

"Can you take a look and see if you can ID any of the faces for me? I'm curious if those faces match any of the names that turned up when we were investigating this." I knew he'd find out that a member of the PCH Bike Club was in the photo, so I preemptively gave him Thumper's name. I just did not explain the full extent of why his appearance there concerned me.

Leo said they were having a slow night and he had tomorrow off, so he had some time. Promising to get back to me in the next couple days, he added, "It's nice to hear from you, even if it's for a favor."

"I owe you, Leo."

[

[

True to his word, Leo got back to me fairly quickly – actually, less than 24 hours later. Before he gave me what he had, he began asking me questions.

His concern was obvious in the tone of his voice. "Are you still dating Weevil Navarro?"

"How did you …?"

He cut me off. "Doesn't matter, Veronica. Just answer the question."

Remembering that Dad and Duncan had both noticed how close Weevil and I were the night that Aaron Echolls was arrested, it seemed logical that one of the officers there that night could have said something to Leo. Regardless, no point in denying it. "Yes."

"And your father knows?"

"Yes. Your point?"

"You mentioned that Thumper Orozco was in the photos, but you didn't tell me that the Fitzpatricks were connected to Club Mojo." He paused. "You see where I'm going with this?"

"Not exactly."

"How worried should I be for your safety? And does your dad know that Thumper is connected to this?"

"We knew about the Fitzpatricks from the beginning. The new faces I just found in the photos … I haven't told him about those yet. I was waiting to see what else you were able to find for me."

"So, he doesn't know that he should be worried."

"Your concern is touching, Leo. But I'm fine. I was well-hidden when I took the photos and Thumper doesn't know I was working a case that involved the club."

"I heard the words you said just now, but there's something you're not saying. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine, but … you need to tell your dad about all this."

"What do you have for me?"

"Those other faces belong to members of the McGuire family, whose base of operations seems to be Huntington Beach. They are also key players in the criminal underworld throughout the L.A. area."

"What's the connection to the Fitzpatricks? Are they allies? Business partners? Frenemies looking to make a peace accord between Irish families?"

"Can't help you with that. Far as I know, we were unaware of their presence in Neptune. I had to check with some contacts in other cities to find out as much as I did."

"Thanks for this, Leo. Let me know when you need something."

"Just promise to stay safe and we'll call it even this time. I'll let you know if I find anything else."

[

[

After talking to Leo, I had texted Weevil asking if we could set up a time to meet in the warehouse. We agreed to meet at 7 a.m. and set an evening time as a backup plan in case either of us couldn't make it in the morning.

I didn't sleep very well. Kept waking up from dreams that were essentially replays of my last few interactions with Thumper. Spliced in between those scenes were the photos from outside Club Mojo. When I tried to get back to sleep, my imagination was spinning possible scenarios for how this PCH drama would play out. My subconscious seemed to think that a happy ending was not very probable.

Unable to go back to sleep after the last dream, I finally got out of bed just before 5 a.m. While I was getting ready, I texted Weevil that I could meet earlier if he wanted. By 6 a.m., I was in the office getting some filing done while I waited for our meeting time to roll around. At 6:35, I got a text saying he was at the warehouse.

As I locked the office door and started toward the back exit and the alley, I was a bit nervous. Honestly, I wasn't sure how this conversation was going to go.

After a long (and much needed) kiss hello, I walked to a work table and opened my laptop. I clicked on the folder to open it. Then, I scrolled to the set of images that included Thumper. After I picked one that clearly showed most of the faces, I waited to see Weevil's reaction.

As I expected, his whole body went tense. He leaned toward the screen. "When was this?"

"June."

"I remember you telling me that you were doing surveillance from across the street. Why am I just seeing these now?"

"The original images weren't clear enough to ID everyone. Got bored the other night and tried out some new software to see what it was capable of. Et voilà!" With a Vanna White flourish, I gestured toward the screen.

Pointing at the photo, he said, "I recognize two of the Fitzpatricks. Who are the others?"

"This one on the left is a distant cousin of the Fitzpatricks. Apparently, moved to town earlier this year. The remaining two belong to the McGuire family. You know anything about them?"

"Heard of them. Didn't know they were working local. Didn't know they were connected to the Fitzpatricks."

"And you didn't know … ?"

"That Thumper is mixed up in their business? No." Weevil rubbed a hand down his face and gave me a sideways glance. He let out a sigh as he dropped his head. "Looks like a bad situation just got worse."

"Well, really … it's been worse since June, we just didn't know it."

"Guess you're right." He rubbed the back of his head and neck. "I specifically asked you to not look into ... I know you didn't mean to go looking for this exactly – and it is useful information – but you stop now. I don't want Thumper to have a reason to target you. If he thought you were digging into this …" Placing his hands on the sides of my face, he leaned his forehead against mine and said softly, "I don't want you anywhere near this or him. Clear?"

"Crystal."

If he was trying to persuade me to comply with his wishes or make me feel completely safe despite the circumstances, the extended kiss he gave me accomplished both.

"Things are gonna get ugly, aren't they?" I asked quietly.

"Looks that way."

"Do you have an exit strategy yet?"

"I'm working on it."

"And you'll let me know what I need to know … when I need to know it. Yeah, yeah, yeah. The less I know, the safer I am."

As I closed my laptop, I handed him the thumbdrive. "Copies of the most useful photos."

After that, we made out on the couch. The advantage of meeting earlier than originally planned: extra time.

With my head resting on his shoulder, I broke the silence, "We need to find more time to be alone. I miss this."

"Soon."

"How soon? A week? A month? Give me a clue."

"You like clues, don't you? You like to piece them together and figure things out."

"You got me."

"Damn right." His possessive response led to more kissing. His voice was thick with lust as he said, "You're mine."

[

[

For Weevil's family, Sunday dinner was a tradition. Since it was pretty much just me and Dad, I envied the closeness of his extended family. Maybe that's why, when presented with the opportunity to do something for them, I jumped at the chance.

After being at the party before school started, I had an automatic invite to the weekly dinner. Although I missed a couple, it became a regular thing on my schedule, because as Weevil put it, his grandma expected me to be there. The second time I went, I mentioned to Weevil that I was excited that I would be picking up my senior portraits in a few days. I saw several expressions change. I leaned in to ask him if it was because of something I'd said.

"Think about it, V."

And then, it hit me. Senior portraits did not fall under "necessary expenditures" in some family budgets.

Then, something else hit me. An idea.

Whispering, I winked as I said, "I'm pretty good with a camera. Not to mention photo editing. And I have a high-quality printer." I let that sink in. "I could offer to do theirs."

"They won't take a hand out, but I bet they'd trade."

I brought it up as we were cleaning up after dinner. When all was said and done, some serious bartering had occurred. The result for me: dance lessons, dressmaker for an original prom dress, one-of-a kind purse, someone to teach me to make the traditional recipes served at the family dinner, and car detailing.

As we were deciding on a location that would give everyone background options, Letty asked if I could do a portrait of the whole family. Weevil interrupted, saying that with this many people, it would be really hard to arrange.

I dismissed his concern. "No, not as difficult as you might think. I'm guessing you all go to church on Sundays. We could meet after Mass … in the park down the block from St. Mary's. We can use the stone steps as risers. The trees will be in the background. It's perfect. You're already gonna be in one place … dressed in your 'Sunday best.' All I have to do is point the camera at you."

Weevil leaned over to whisper in my ear, "You sure? You don't have to do it just because she asked."

Answering loudly enough for all to hear, "It would be my pleasure. My Christmas gift to all of you. I'll print an 8x10 for each of the moms. For everyone, your choice of a 4x6 or wallet size. And I can email a .jpg to anyone who wants it." Looking around at their expressions, I added, "Just pick a Sunday and I'll make sure I'm not working. Oh, and pray for good weather."

Within the next two weeks, I had taken senior portraits for Weevil and eight of his cousins. The day I took the family portrait, the weather was beautiful. While we were there and everyone was dressed up, a few of the families with young kids asked me to get a shot that they could use as their Christmas card photo. That evening, I took some candid shots at the family dinner.

The next week, Weevil had me take a group photo of the PCHers. Then, the two of us went down to the beach. I put my camera on a tripod and set the timer. There were several good shots, but when we looked through the photos together, we both picked the same one as our favorite. He was holding me close with one arm around my back. His other hand held mine to his lips as he kissed my knuckles and stared into my eyes.

Taking photos of happy families and smiling seniors was definitely more enjoyable than trying to get a "money shot." Although I wasn't sure I'd ever want to work as a professional photographer, it's always good to have a marketable skill to fall back on.

[

[

Weevil was at our apartment one night to study. Before coming over, he had worked a few hours at his uncle's shop after school. By the time he arrived, we had already finished dinner. My dad asked if he wanted something to eat, but he turned down the offer. About an hour into homework, his stomach was growling loudly. Dad didn't even ask him again, he just reheated a plate of food and put it in front of him.

Looking up from his book, Weevil said, "Thanks, Sheriff."

After he finished eating, we took a short walk down to the patio overlooking the water. It was nice to have a little time alone. As we stood there at the railing, I realized that I had never considered it a romantic spot, but at the moment, it definitely was.

While we were out there, we compared schedules to figure out when we could get some more "alone time." We decided on an upcoming Saturday. He would call Bri and make sure it was okay for us to hang out at the B&B that day. I couldn't wait. Judging by the look in his eyes, neither could he.

When we returned to the apartment, my dad decided to strike up a conversation before we dove back into studying. He wanted to know how Letty was doing. Weevil had talked to me about it some, but he didn't get into all the details and didn't bring it up often. He told Dad pretty much what he had told me recently.

After going to see several doctors, they finally felt like they found the right one. This doctor is taking her concerns seriously, particularly since the most common ailments with her symptoms had already been ruled out. While they continued looking for the root of the problem, the doctor did what she could to help Letty get back to her regular life, suggesting changes to her diet and some supplements that seemed to be helping her energy level until they reached a diagnosis. The medicine that one of the other doctors tried for her high blood pressure didn't help and they still weren't sure what caused it to elevate. But following the suggestions from this new doctor, she'd been feeling a little better and was able to consistently work a part-time schedule. She had another appointment scheduled for next week. Her doctor had been doing some research and wanted to run a few new tests.

When the conversation had run its course, Dad excused himself to fold and iron the laundry he had done earlier. We went back to our homework. At eleven o'clock, Dad came out to the living room and turned on the news.

Weevil looked at the time. "I should get going." He closed his book. Then, he pulled a few pages out of the notebook he was using, folded them, and put them inside his jacket. Stacking up the books and notebooks, he said, "I'll drop this stuff in the trunk of your car on my way out." Turning to my dad, he thanked him again for dinner and for letting him study here.

"Not a problem, Eli. It's nice to see you applying yourself to your schoolwork." Then, Dad walked down the hall to the bathroom.

"I'm pretty sure he just did that to give us a little privacy. So, kiss me quick … before he comes back."

He dropped his books back on the counter, stepped toward me, and slid his fingers into my hair as he cupped my face. This kiss was different than the possessive kisses he gave me in public. This kiss was tender – which is how he usually was with me in private.

[

[

About a month after the school year started, I had the opportunity to act like a normal high school student by going on a normal school field trip. The journalism teacher planned a trip for anyone from newspaper, yearbook, and the broadcast news class who wanted to tour Shark Field.

When Weevil found out that both Cervando and I would be going on the field trip, he cleared his schedule so he could follow us. That day when I got on the bus, I looked around and chose a seat as far away from the 09ers as I could get. I'm not sure if Weevil gave him instructions or not, but when Cervando showed up, he asked if I minded him sitting next to me.

The tour itself was pretty cool. While we were there, we found out that the owner's daughter was a new student at our school. That explains how we were able to get a nearly all-access tour complete with scrumptious buffet. Connections certainly do help.

While we were eating, Terrence Cook came in to do a little meet and greet. Once my dad found out that I shook his favorite player's hand, he would never let me wash my hand again.

Things were uncomfortable during the outing since Meg was still being a bit frosty toward me. But I didn't have to deal with her glaring at me on the way home, because the 09ers made arrangements to take a limo back to school. They had complained about the smell on the bus. Admittedly, it did have a strong odor. However, not everyone can afford to pay for and get permission to use alternate transportation.

The only 09er who didn't ride back in the limo was Madison. Not that I cared enough to keep up with relationship drama in that circle, but it was pretty clear that she didn't want to be near Dick.

Cervando and I were sitting near the middle of the bus until we stopped at a gas station, where I had a brief chat with Weevil. I asked if I was going to see him later.

He replied flirtatiously, "You're seeing me now. What? Can't get enough of me? We'll have plenty of time together on Saturday."

"I was hoping you could make time for me before then." I tilted my head and tried to persuade him. "Please?"

He groaned. "'You keep using that word. But I do not think …' you know what it does to me."

I'm sure that my face showed that I was stunned. There is nothing like a hot biker who can quote The Princess Bride and adapt it to fit his purposes.

With a shrug, he said, "What? You know we're reading it in English class."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you started it yet."

"Didn't, but I've seen the movie."

Ms. Dumas was telling everyone to hurry back onto the bus.

I gave Weevil a brief, but passionate kiss. "That's a preview of coming attractions … if you make time to see me later."

He didn't seem to want to let me go after that last kiss. Or maybe it was the suggestive way I had said the word please. Either way, his reaction was as predictable as it was heartwarming. I had to disentangle myself from his arms. As I walked away, I glanced over my shoulder to see him watching me.

"You're killing me here, V."

Happy laugher escaped from my lips and I blew him a kiss.

When I got back on the bus, I noticed that Cervando had struck up a conversation with someone else. So, I walked all the way to the back and sat in the last seat, where I would be able to see Weevil's bike behind us.

There was something comforting about having him there, though I would have preferred to be on his bike with him. Ms. Dumas wouldn't allow it without permission from a parent. She may be new, but she figured out rather quickly that the 09ers get special treatment and the rest of us don't.

As the others on the bus chatted with friends, I took some time to enjoy the view of the water before turning to look behind us again. It was a deceptively beautiful day. And my heart was full as I thought about the plans I had with Weevil for this weekend.

Honestly, I can't tell you much of what anyone else was doing at the moment I heard what sounded like an explosion, because my focus was on Weevil. I remember the sensation of being thrown around, but don't actually remember hitting my head or any other body part that ended up battered and bruised. I have a recollection – so hazy it seems like a dream – of floating up through a hole, slowly rising through water, and reaching the surface.

I don't remember hearing anything else – not the bus crashing into the guard rail as it plunged over the cliff or the other students screaming or the splash when the bus hit the water – though I'm sure there must have been sounds around me. I certainly didn't hear the voices coming from the side of the road above us.

What do I remember? I felt myself floating. I felt the warmth of the sun on me. I felt warmth in my heart as pictures of Dad, Backup, Weevil, Wallace, Mac, and Lilly drifted through my mind as I drifted in and out of consciousness.

A/N:

Yes, I know … many of you hate me right now. Feel free to comment and tell me all about it. Reading what you have to say can't be any more painful than it was for me to write this arc of the series.

Thanks for reading! Until next time …

~Jen

28 December 2017