Author Note: Alright, guys, so the next few chapters will focus on Jason recalling how he and Charlie got together, starting from where the series had left off up to the events of the first chapter. I'm so sorry for my English but I'm Italian, so writing in a language that is not mine is really hard for me… but anyways, here we go.

Truth to be told, Krystal was a stunning Cinderella with that blue dress and her bare thighs dancing their way across the stage. My hormones were raging like crazy when I was 14, and honestly I did feel my legs give out a few times when she was singing with me towards the end of the musical. Back then I had never really contemplated the idea of letting myself be somewhat messed up by any girl and I was seriously proud for I what I considered to be my moral integrity. Simon and Declan, on the other hand, didn't have that much of a self-control and basically ended up drooling like crazy anytime Krystal would glance their way. It just looked all plain dumb and pathetic to me at the time.

Indeed, despite my countless efforts to deny it, my two best buddies were sort of growing up faster than me in that sense. First of all, they were actually starting to get the idea that girls may not always mean trouble, and plus, they were also starting to look at them. As something more than just some stupid chicks to pull random pranks on.

The two of them wouldn't even submit to my authority anymore. Whenever I would shut them up after they'd make a nice comment on any girl from the SOC, they'd just wait for me to cool off a bit before they'd get back to the topic I hated so much.

Well, honestly, it's not like I had no interest in the female world at all. It's just that the focus of said interest was still the same from when I was 4 and only knew as many words as 'sleep' and 'I love you Charlie'. In fact, now I can honestly say that I knew that girl was going to be the end of me from as soon as she first came into my life: my mom has a picture of that day. Being college roommates and eventually neighbors, she and Charlie's mother had always been best friends, so when Jackie gave birth to her daughter my Mom rushed to the hospital tagging me along. So basically Charlie's Dad ended up taking a picture of my one year old self worryingly looking at the crib where she was sleeping. Ah, little did I know...

One of the very first memories I have shared with her dates back to when my mom's Dad, who would be my Grandpa, died from Alzheimer disease. I was only 6 and I remember being so freaking scared. I had no idea of what to expect from a funeral, and maybe I didn't even know what a funeral was exactly. So just like I would always do anytime I was scared, I just hid out in the tree house Charlie's Dad had built up for us. She finally found me up there after a while, and joined in, sitting beside me on the wooden surface that was supposed to be the floor of our 'mansion'. I recall she looked up to me with the biggest blue eyes a kid could've possibly imagined and asked me what was wrong with my Gramps.

"He was so sick he couldn't even remember anything. That's what Dad told me". I simply said. Although I'm pretty sure I was too little to really understand the full gravity of the disease, I was still feeling so sad for the poor old man that had passed away, deprived of his own memories.

"That's not possible. You can't forget things you love. Jasey, don't be sad. I'm sure your Gramps could never forget about you."

"What if I end up sick? What if I end up forgetting about my Mommy? About you?"

She leaned in and kissed my cheek. It was normal back then, we were 6 and best buddies who would even take their baths together. But that day it did feel kind of special, I know for sure.

"Jasey, you're my bestest, bestest friend. We can't forget about each other."

I'm 22 now and I have a metastasis the size of my thumb in my skull. As soon as it was detected, my oncologist, who's always been a very blunt person, told me that I'm more likely to have major memory problems as the cancer grows.

Charlie is lying in my arms right now and I have her blonde hair spread everywhere across my chest, and heaven knows how much I'd love for it to be the only thing spreading in that area. In the corner of my eye I can see her hand resting limp in the crook of my neck, her fingers still loosely entangled in my hair. She's tired. I can tell she's awake even though she's trying her best to sound fast asleep. I know her, she must be still playing what I told her earlier all over again in her head for the umpteenth time, as I can feel her body tense onto mine from time to time.

The dawn is breaking. The scent of the eucalyptuses outside the house is overwhelming and the waves are crashing gently against the shore. I wish she'd open her eyes to see all this beauty.

I want to remember this. I want to remember getting the chance to see such a marvelous sight with my gorgeous wife in my arms. I want to remember every single time I made love to her. I want to remember every time we fought as teens and every time I tried to deny how much I've always needed her.

Maybe if I want it really hard, like I do... well, maybe I won't forget any of those things.