Atlanta woke up nestled in the crook of Archie's arm. Any other time she would have been embarrassed and pushed him away, but right then she needed the comfort in his warmth. Blushing at her thoughts, she cuddled closer to him and tried to get back to sleep. But when she closed her eyes she saw Theresa in her lids, bleeding slowly to death. Gasping, she opened her eyes and struggled to her feet, racing out the door and through the brownstone. She didn't hesitate to exit the building, her heart thumping wildly as she searched for a place to hide from her guilt and heartache.
She headed for the movie theatre, where she and Theresa had spent many evenings wasting away munching popcorns and watching garbage movies at the expense of entertainment. Her eyes skimmed the posters of the movies that the cinema was playing: "Love at First Bite", "Bourne the Third", and "Dying to See You Again". As she read the last one, she began to bawl, as harried onlookers tried to console her as best they could, wondering why she was so upset about a movie… besides, some thought, it wasn't real life…
Herry rummaged in the refrigerator trying to find something edible. His hand encircled the last piece of carrot cake. Satisfied, he brought it out and laid it on the table. He had just begun to eat the first bite of it when he discovered a note stuck to its plate:
Herry, I know what you're thinking: That this last piece is for you. You're wrong; it's for Odie, and you're going to go and do two laps around the school for even thinking it was yours! I know you love my cooking, but you've got to share. I promise I'll make you an extra chocolate chip muffin for school next Wednesday, okay? Love, Resa
Anything that was in his mouth suddenly seemed dry and tasteless. This cake had been crafted by Theresa's slender hands, made by her careful measuring and shaping. And he had the nerve to eat the last piece that may ever be made. This belonged in a museum, not in his stomach. Herry felt queasy and he wondered how one girl could have made such an impression on his life to spoil his appetite. Tears oozed down his face like slime, and he wiped them away in disgust. Gingerly, he returned the food to the fridge and headed out to run two laps, even if only in memory of her.
Neil woke up in Theresa's bedroom and realized that Jay, Atlanta, and Herry were gone. Archie and Odie both continued to slumber, their dried tears shimmering on their cheeks. He decided to take a shower and left to go to the washroom. His feet echoed off the floorboards of the nearly-deserted brownstone, and Neil couldn't help but think that it felt a little creepy. He always expected Atlanta or Theresa to jump out at him from around a corner, laughing as he let out his high-pitched girly scream. Theresa. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered yesterday. She had helped him feel more about others than just about himself; she had believed in him when others had chuckled about Echo actually liking him. Theresa had been the sister he never had, lecturing him when he wasn't chivalrous and teaching him how to treat a girl if he wanted to date her.
"She had great fashion sense too," he said aloud. Then he had a revelation: why was he talking about her in past tense? It wasn't as if she was dead yet; Neil still had time to go and tell her how he felt.
He hurried to the bathroom and chose the conditioner she had bought him one year for Christmas; it smelled of mint and peaches, and made him feel cheery. Just like her.
Odie heard the soft footfalls as Neil walked away, and he sat up groggily. He suddenly apprehended the time, and he scrambled to his feet. It was time to go and set up a fundraiser for Theresa. Every cent of it would go to helping her recuperate from her major surgery. He scuttled away to his room in the basement and locked the door, letting the dim light soothe his tired eyes as he sat down at his computer. He began typing frantically, creating posters to tape up around down, pleading for the public's help in saving Theresa's life. At the bottom of the poster he finished with: She Needs Your Help; Please don't go Home to your Family without Helping Hers! He sat back, satisfied, and with a final click hit the print button.
Archie's own snoring was what woke him up. Looking around through bleary eyes helped him notice that he was alone. He sat up and yawned, avoiding thoughts of the night before. He tried to tell himself that it had never happened; that Theresa or Cronus had fooled with their minds to make them think otherwise. But in his heart, he knew it was true. He just thought that it would hurt less if he lied.
Archie didn't cry as he gazed around the room, trying to find a hint of something that wasn't there: Theresa's smile. He wandered over to her dressing table and let his fingers glide over her perfume bottles and lipstick canisters. He finally found the perfume Theresa always wore; he remembered it because he had always complained about its sickening, girly smell. But he didn't mind opening the bottle and inhaling the scent of strawberries and cream, maybe because it was her smell; the smell of a friend who was dying for naught.
He clenched his fists in anger and whirled around as if to see Cronus there and run him through with his anger and his Hephaestus whip; but in his torment he spilt Theresa's costly aroma all over his shirt. He tipped out so much it formed a stain on his famous blue hoodie, but Archie couldn't care less. If the others laughed at him, and Jay and Atlanta were wondering why he was wearing Theresa's cologne, he would just shrug and say that it was her memory haunting him like mist on a cold, shivering day. Then they'd roll their eyes and think, Typical Archie, but he wouldn't care less. And he felt sure none of them really would, because she was vanishing like the summer days, never to come again the same way as before.
Jay stopped crying when the nurse reminded him that he only had an hour with Theresa. When she walked away, he took Theresa's hand and squeezed it tightly, as if he could possibly share his life force with her through his touch. He would willingly give up half his breath to see her beautiful emerald eyes open and see her smiling at him. He had never wished for something so much and so hard, not even for a great shot at defeating Cronus once and for all.
His grip on her hand tightened as her eyes blinked open. He leaned over her expectantly, his heart leaping a beat. But his hopes sank as they closed, without comprehension of his presence. He kneeled by her bedside, and closed his eyes, yearning to wake up to see her smiling at him and laughing at his joyous expression. He wanted to be able to hug her close to him in relief and kiss her lips, rejoicing in life itself. With these thoughts in his mind, he slept, and dreamed of her.