Chapter One: Cold Snap

March 13, 2008

He sat in his car at the far edge of the parking lot, sweat coming from his brow, fingers tapping mercifully on the steering wheel. The tiny building was so packed with people that if he went inside maybe, just maybe, no one would notice him in enough time to say something (it was such a bullshit thought and he knew it). He slid his fingers over the door handle; trying to get a tight enough grip around it to pull it towards his body. But his hand was sweating, and shaking so damn much he just couldn't do it.

So he waited until people began to file out. Until the parking lot was empty. And when the last car drove away, he went inside. One of the men working noticed him as soon as he entered.

"Excuse me sir, you –"

"Missed it? I know. I'm sorry." His train of thought was empty, staring at the casket in front of him, unable to see the man inside. He felt a rock inside his throat. Couldn't say anything. Didn't know if he should even say anything.

"Was he a friend? A relative?" the man asked politely, with a tone of voice that sounded like it wasn't any of his business to be asking questions.

"No. He was… neither." He wanted to say something else, to make that statement sound a little less harsh but nothing would come out.

21 Days Ago

Matt sat at the desk is his bedroom, pencil in hand, crappy drawing in front of him. He would always draw whenever he was under stress, but it just wasn't working tonight. He picked up his phone, finding and clicking on the same number he's called three times already. No answer again. In a fit of rage he threw his phone behind him and ripped his drawing to shreds.

He tried to take a breather as he ran his hands over his face.

This isn't helping anything. Just calm down.

"Matthew… Matthew." Grandma yelled out as she opened his bedroom door. "Everything alright in here honey?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Grandma. Just trying to get some work done."

"Okay, get some rest tonight alright? Goodnight honey."

"Goodnight Grandma."

Matt watched as Grandma shut the door, hearing her turn the lights off in the living room before shutting her own bedroom door behind her. He grabbed another piece of paper and began drawing the same thing as before, when his hand slipped and left a long deep line across the paper.

God damnit!

He crumpled the paper up and threw it in the small trashcan besides the desk before turning the light off and falling face first on his bed. Maybe he'll have better luck tomorrow. At least he had something to look forward to.

"Oh, oh yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Tyra, if you were any louder you'd wake the whole neighborhood up."

"You know you're enjoying this, now keep going."

Landry chuckled a little under his breath and kept going for the next several minutes, slowly lifting himself off of Tyra and lying down next to her when he was finished and cleaned up.

"That was pretty damn good Landry Clarke. You're getting good at this," she laughed at him.

"Oh, so you're making fun of me now? I see how it is. I'll remember this the next time you decide you'd rather climb up the window then knock on the door."

Tyra quickly sat up from the bed and began putting her sweat pants back on.

"That reminds me, I should go say hi to your parents before they go to bed. They're still up right?"

"No, no, no! Don't do that," Landry begged. If she went out there, his parents would know what they've been up to. And his mother would not be happy. At all.

Tyra ignored Landry's pleads and put her bra and tee-shirt back on before making her way for the door. Just then Landry starts coughing, loud enough for Tyra to turn around and notice that he was choking.

"Landry?"

She rushed to his side as he pressed down against his chest and coughed, gasping for air every chance he could get. After a minute or two, he finally stopped, breathing in and out as fast as he possibly could.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I don't know what that was," he said, still trying to catch his breath. He wanted to laugh at how ridiculously stupid this all was, but Tyra would probably think he faked it all. And that wouldn't be good.

"If you're joking with me I'll rip your balls off."

"You got some psychic power I don't know about?" He laughed a little. "I can promise you that this wasn't a joke. Give me a minute, I'll go out there with you. I need a glass of water."

Tami tiptoed down the hallway towards Julie's bedroom, with Gracie in her arms.

"There she is. There's the birthday girl, Gracie Belle. Let's wake her up. C'mon Jules. Time to wake up," Tami said in a playful voice.

Julie moaned and groaned as she tossed back and forth in her bed. She wanted to stay in bed and sleep all day and not do anything else. It was her birthday. She shouldn't have to do anything she didn't want to.

"Give me twenty minutes," she said to her mother.

"Okay, make it quick. I'll let you drive to school today."

Tami walked down the hall to her own bedroom, where her husband was still lying in bed, blowing his nose like there was no tomorrow.

"You sound terrible."

"I feel like shit."

"There's some Robitussin in the medicine cabinet, and don't says things like that in front of Gracie."

"Slip of the tongue. I'm sorry." Coach slowly got out of bed and headed towards the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. It might have been the off-season, but he didn't need to get some kind of cold. Not now, not ever.

After taking some of the cold medicine and getting ready, he headed to school, while Julie and his wife took Gracie to day-care. He just hoped that everyone would have a good day.

He could use one.

15 Days Later

She stood in the kitchen and made herself some breakfast when she heard the phone ring. It was still early in the morning, but late enough for someone to call, so she thought nothing of it.

"Hello… Yeah, speaking… Can you say that again...? No, that has to be some kind of mistake. That's not… Oh… Oh my God."

She held the phone away from her ear and laid it on the table, as she felt the tears fall from her face.