Jeffrey Mitchell was once again working from home when an incoming video call interrupted his work. He looked up from his papers, checked the name displayed on the screen, and took the call. He smiled and looked into Greg Grey's face. "Hello, old friend."

"You look awful," Grey commented, his face completely serious.

"Thank you," Jeffrey replied dryly.

"Did you get my email with Logan's results?"

Jeffrey nodded. "Yes, this morning. They seem pretty good, don't they?"

"I agree. Apart from his physical condition, of course."

Jeffrey had to smile. "Yes, Logan already told me that you want to force him to go outside more often. Don't worry, he will do it even if he doesn't like it very much."

"Yeah, he's a good kid," Grey agreed. "By the way, I want to apologize for the little trick with the blood test. But I just didn't know how else to do it."

"I'm sure you knew what you were doing."

Grey nodded and seemed thoughtful for a moment. "So, Logan has a girlfriend now?"

"Camille . . . a nice girl."

"And remarkable."

"How do you mean that?"

"Well, of course you know how difficult it is for your son to have blood drawn. He even fainted one time. Another time he couldn't stop throwing up."

"I remember," Jeffrey replied somberly.

"But this time everything was different. That girl . . . she seems to have a very special attraction for Logan. Thanks to her, he was able to pass the examination. I think that's quite impressive."

"I'm glad she and Logan have found each other."

Dr. Grey was silent for a moment, then asked in a hesitant undertone, "How is Joanna doing?"

Jeffrey raised his eyebrows. "Are you asking that as a doctor or as a friend of the family?"

"Both."

Jeffrey sighed. "She . . . she doesn't seem to be coming to terms with the fact that Logan is in a committed relationship. But she'll get used to it eventually, I'm sure."

"And . . . the other thing?"

Jeffrey was silent.

"Is it getting worse again?"

"No, it's just . . . to be honest, I'm worried. Worried about her, about Logan, about our family. It's like something's brewing, like a storm, and I'm afraid that I can't stop it. I would do anything for them, and it would break my heart if either of them were to be harmed, no matter how."

Gregory Grey had listened with a calm expression on his face and now answered in an equally calm voice, "Listen to me, son, I've known you for so many years now. I know how you think, how you feel. You're a great father and husband and whatever happens you will have the strength to deal with it because you always make the right decisions. And if you ever have doubts, I hope you know that all you have to do is say one word and I'll be there to help. I've told you this before, back when it was at its worst, and I still stand by my word. You don't have to go through this alone."

Jeffrey Mitchell smiled softly. "Thank you, my old friend. It was good to talk to you about it."


Jo wouldn't be at school today, so Camille knew this day was going to be bad. Logan's words came to her mind. Tough and strong.

'He's wrong,' Camille thought as she walked down the hallways to her classroom. Even though she was deep in thought, she couldn't help but notice that many of the students - mostly the girls - didn't call out malicious things after her, but instead whispered excitedly to one another. Camille didn't even bother to ask one of them what was going on and entered her English classroom. As it turned out, she wasn't the only one who didn't seem to care about the commotion in the hallways.

"Hi, Peggy," Camille greeted the blonde girl who was reading a book.

"Hey, Camille."

Camille and Peggy weren't friends. Still, Peggy was one of the few students who left Camille alone.

"Why is everyone so excited?" Camille asked and went to her seat.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's about some new student. They say he looks like a god."

Camille made a face. A few weeks ago, she might have been curious about this new student, but now she didn't care. She had Logan.

One by one the other students entered the classroom, sat down, but continued to talk excitedly to each other. At least until the teacher came in and stopped the chatter. The first half of the hour passed without incident, then there was a knock on the door. The teacher opened the door, spoke a few words to someone, then came back to his place at the board, but this time he wasn't alone. "Okay, everyone, please say hello to your new classmate, James Diamond. He'll be keeping us company for the rest of the year."

Camille heard the girls giggling and rolled her eyes. She glanced at the new one. Yeah, okay, he was handsome, but he wasn't Logan. And so, she barely listened as James introduced himself and said something about how he had to move to Los Angeles because of his mother's job.


James Diamond couldn't deny it, he loved attention. He openly admitted that. And that's exactly why he remembered that one girl who didn't seem interested in him at all and instead stared out the window, lost in thought.


At lunchtime, Camille sat outside on a bench and wished that this day would finally be over. She considered calling Logan and was about to pull her phone out of her pocket when a voice above her said, "Hi."

She looked up and recognized James. He was actually beaming at her so she could see his perfect white teeth.

"May I sit with you?"

Camille was about to answer him when her eyes fell on Jett Stetson and his princess gang. They watched the two, giggling and laughing. Camille's heart grew heavy, and anger overcame her. She stood up abruptly and glared at James. "I don't know what they told you, but if this is some ploy to make my life miserable, forget it. Just stay away from me and hang out with your new friends." And with that she stormed off.


"What the . . .?" James mumbled in confusion as a voice behind him yelled, "Hey, newbie!"

James turned around and spotted a blond boy with three girls by the school entrance. They waved him over. When he was close enough, the boy stood up and held out his hand to James. "I'm Jett Stetson. And since you're new, I'll give you some good advice, stay away from this girl. Just pretend she doesn't exist."

"Why?" James asked, completely ignoring Jett's outstretched hand.

"She's crazy," explained the blonde girl next to Jett.

"There's definitely something wrong with her," the girl with the dark curly hair said, while the girl with the brown hair nodded in agreement.

"Believe me, if you want to be someone at this school, you should hang out with us. You'll quickly become one of the coolest students here," Jett said cockily with an arrogant smile.

"Thanks, but I prefer to decide for myself who's cool here and who isn't." And with that he turned his back on the four and walked away.


Filled with anger and frustration, Camille had retreated to a quiet corner inside school. Why couldn't they leave her alone for one day? Why did they have to keep making her life pure hell? Now she really felt the need to call Logan. She needed to hear his voice, wanted to hear him say that it wasn't that bad and that he would be there for her if she needed him. She picked up her phone again and was about to tap on his name in her contact list when a voice said, "Hi again."

It was James.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her kindly.

"Hiding from you and your new friends."

"I have nothing to do with these idiots." He sat down on the floor opposite her and looked at her curiously. Camille raised her eyebrows. "Fine. Even if you don't actually have anything to do with them . . . This school is big enough, you don't have to spend your lunch break here."

James shrugged. "I know," he said, opening his black shoulder bag and pulling out a wrapped sandwich. He removed the foil from it, then looked back at her. "I'm James, by the way."

"Camille."

James nodded. "Okay." Then he bit into his sandwich. Camille stared at him, having no idea what was going on. Without being aware of it, she put her phone back in her pocket and forgot that she had wanted to call Logan.


Over the next few days, James Diamond became a new and exciting part of Camille's life. Surprisingly, they found out that there were some things they were both interested in, so they quickly bonded. Jo was a little surprised at this sudden turn of events, but she quickly accepted James into her small group because he had been nice to Camille. Her friend was having enough trouble at school, so Jo was glad there was someone else to stand up for Camille. James quickly settled into his new school and quickly became a popular and cool student - without the help of Jett Stetson. The other students weren't surprised that James and Jo got along well, but what they couldn't understand was the fact that someone like James Diamond was hanging out with Camille Roberts. But James didn't care, which made Camille - and Jo - very happy.

Three weeks later, James asked Camille about her favorite places in town. When Camille replied that her favorite place was the beach, James was delighted. He told her that he loved the beach as well but hadn't found the time to explore it. So Camille offered to show him the beach next Saturday. They asked Jo if she wanted to come with them, but she already had other plans.


They spent the whole day at the beach. They swam together, talked, ate, laughed. It couldn't have been a better day for Camille. Looking up at the sky and noticing that the sun would be setting soon, she said, "Wanna see something cool?"

"Always," James replied. "What is it?"

Camille stood up. "Follow me," she said with a smile and James did. Camille led up a small path until they finally stood on top of a cliff. James whistled appreciatively. "Great view."

Camille nodded. "I know. Come on." She sat down with her legs dangling over the edge. James followed her. And so they sat there in silence for quite a while until the sun began to set.

Camille remembered a question Logan had once asked her. "Sunrise or sunset?"

James looked at her as if she had asked him about a complicated math problem. He shrugged. "I don't know. Probably sunset. Then life gets really interesting. You know, party time."

"Have you ever thought about the fact that without sunrise there is no sunset and vice versa?"

"No."

Camille looked at the sky again, taking in the striking colors. "What do you think creates these colors? Why can we see them?"

Again he looked at her confused. "Is it really important to know what creates them? Isn't it much more important to be happy that certain things exist without trying to get to the bottom of them?"

Camille said nothing. Logan would have given her a completely different answer, she knew that. James was more the type of person who just accepted things without thinking about them too much. Logan appreciated the little things in life too, but he also wanted to get to the bottom of these things, wanted to find out what they meant or created, how they worked. Camille realized that the two boys were completely different.

"No," she said quietly. "It's not important."

James nodded. "The main thing is that they are there, and they are beautiful . . . like you."

Camille was a little perplexed by his statement, but then she smiled. "Thanks, that's very nice of you."

"I'm serious," James said, causing Camille to turn her head and look at him. There was no longer a smile, just this unfamiliar serious expression on his face, which radically changed the relaxed mood between them.

"James . . ." Camille tried to save the situation, but it was too late. James moved closer to her. "Come on, don't tell me you don't feel it. There's obviously something between us. We have a good connection. You can't deny that."

"James," Camille tried again, but her voice trailed off when he placed a hand on her cheek. Camille couldn't help but notice how warm his hand was.

"Just breathe . . ." James whispered and kissed her. His lips felt soft yet firm, and his kiss was confident. He knew what he wanted. And for one, two seconds, Camille gave in. Then reality pulled her hard back to the present. She jumped up. "No!"

James looked at her questioningly. "What? Didn't you like it?"

"James . . ." she looked at him desperately. "I can't do this. It's wrong."

"Why?"

"I have a boyfriend."

James frowned and stood up as well. "I never saw you with any other boy at school."

"He doesn't go to our school."

"I never saw him pick you up from school either."

"No, he . . . he can't . . . it's complicated."

"How come?"

"That's a long story."

James shrugged. "I have time."

Camille looked at him thoughtfully, then she sat back down on the ground and started telling James about Logan.


"So . . . he's sick, huh?"

"Yes."

"But it's not . . . I mean, he's not gonna . . . die from it, is he?"

"No, it's not that kind of disease."

"Ah, okay. That's good."

There was a moment of silence, then James cleared his throat. "I just want to get one thing straight. I'm not sorry about what happened. But I'm sorry that I put you in a bad situation."

Camille nodded. "Thanks." She tapped the ground with her fingertips restlessly. "I have to tell Logan."

James lifted his head in surprise. "But don't you think it would be better if he didn't know?"

"I . . ." Camille hesitated. Admittedly, it was a tempting prospect not to tell Logan what had just happened, but . . . "No, he has to know. Anything else would be wrong."

James bit his lower lip. "If it helps, I could come with you. However, if he wants to hurt me, then please tell him not to hit my face. It's my future capital."

Camille couldn't help but smile. "I appreciate your offer, but I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Yeah, okay, maybe you're right. But then at least tell him it was all my fault and not yours. Maybe that'll help you."

Camille reached up and placed her hand on James's forearm. "Thank you, James."

He looked down at her hand on his arm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Camille shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know. I didn't think it was necessary to tell you."

"And what does that mean for us? Where are we now?"

Camille gave him a warm look. "Logan is very important to me. I don't want to lose him."

"I understand that."

"But you are an important part of my life as well and I would be very happy if we could continue to be friends."

James made a face. "So, friend zone it is, huh? Hmmm . . . I've always tried to avoid that." He sighed. "But I think you're worth it, so I accept and resign myself to my destiny as your friend."

"Thank you," Camille said softly, giving him a hug.

"Just to be clear . . . just friends, right? So, no benefits at all?"

Camille actually had to laugh. "No, just friends."

James shrugged and grinned. "It was worth a shot." Then his face was serious again. "When do you want to tell him?"

"Tomorrow. There's no reason to wait any longer."


Camille sat in her car, looking at Logan's house. She got out, went to the front door and rang the bell. Logan's dad opened the door. He looked tired and exhausted. "Hello, Camille. How can I help you?"

"Hi, Dr. Mitchell. I'm so sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I was thinking . . . maybe I could see Logan?"

He hesitated, seemed to be thinking about something. "Um, no . . . that . . . that wouldn't be a good idea right now. Logan is . . . he's not doing well at the moment."

Camille's long list of worries grew. "What's wrong with him?"

"Has Logan ever told you that there are some periods when he doesn't feel well even though he's on his meds?"

Camille nodded. "Since when . . .?"

"Last night."

'Last night!' Camille thought, horrified, but then realized at the same moment that her imagination had run away with her again. It was just an odd coincidence . . . right? "I see," she said softly. "Well, then I guess I'd better go. Give him my regards, please." She was almost back at her car when Logan's father called her back. "Camille?"

She came back, looking at him questioningly.

"I've changed my mind. You can see him. But . . . but please don't be alarmed. Just remember that it looks worse than it actually is."


"Oh my god . . ." Camille had actually promised herself not to say anything, but at that moment she just couldn't help it. Logan looked . . . no, she just couldn't think of a word that would describe this kind of condition. It wasn't unusual for his skin to be pale, but now it was just white, which made the skin around his eyes even more frightening, showing strange shades of black, blue, purple, and red. And he seemed so tired, weak, fragile, and small that it broke Camille's heart. He tried to smile when he saw her, but you could tell that even that simple gesture was too much for him.

"It looks worse than it actually is."

"Yeah, your dad said the same thing, but I still don't buy it."

He tried to smile again, this time he succeeded. "So my dad let you in?"

"Yes," Camille replied as she slowly approached his bed.

"Why are you wearing a mask?" His voice sounded anything but healthy.

"Well, your dad said-"

Logan shook his head. "You won't need it. Please."

Camille slowly removed the medical mask from her face. Logan sighed contentedly. "I haven't seen you in a while," he said softly. Camille's guilty conscience was back again. He was right. She had been neglecting him. He deserved someone better, she wasn't a good girlfriend. "Yes, I . . . I'm sorry, Logan. I've been so busy lately and-"

"There is no need to apologize," Logan replied in a calm and soothing tone. "It's your last year in High School, so there must be a lot on your plate. I get that."

His answer only made her guilt worse. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Um, yeah . . . there's actually something, but . . . well, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"What is it?"

"Um . . . would you . . . lay down next to me?"

"Are you sure?"

Logan nodded in embarrassment, then quickly added, "I promise you it's not contagious. I-"

Camille shook her head. "I don't doubt that." So she took off her shoes and lay down on the bed next to Logan. It was an odd feeling. Unknown and yet somehow familiar. His skin felt cold and hot at the same time. "Do you have a fever?"

"Last night. It comes and goes."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," she whispered, running a hand through his hair. Logan closed his eyes and leaned his head against her chest. Camille knew she wasn't going to tell Logan. Not today. Not when he was in such a terrible condition. He probably wouldn't have the strength to cope with this news. She would wait until he was better - even at the risk that his condition would deteriorate again afterwards.

"Would you do me a favor?" Logan's voice snapped Camille out of her dark thoughts.

"What kind of favor?"

"Could you tell me something?"

"Of course. What do you want to hear?"

"Doesn't matter."

Camille thought for a while, then said, "How about one of my favorite childhood memories?"

Logan nodded.

"All right . . . I love thunderstorms. They fascinate me. But as a child I was afraid of them. And then one night, when I was four, there was a violent thunderstorm outside. My older brother knew that thunderstorms scared me, so he came into my room. He was only nine years old, but even then, despite his age, he always knew how to cheer me up or comfort me. He sat down on my bed and pulled me onto his lap so that I had to look out the window at the storm. And then he told me not to be scared. I should picture the weather like a human being. Most of the time it's happy and the sun is shining. Then there are days when it doesn't feel so good, maybe it's sick or sad and that's why it's sometimes rainy and cloudy outside. And then there are also moments when the weather is angry or scared and then somehow it has to release the feelings inside to feel better again. I thought about his words and asked him why the weather was angry. He replied that he didn't know, maybe the weather also had a little sister who was always getting on its nerves. I knew he was joking and had to laugh. Then I asked if there was anything we could do to help the weather calm down and stop being angry. He replied that when you're angry, you actually want someone to listen to you and give you attention. And that's what we should do. So we spent a great part of the night just looking out the window and watching the thunderstorm until it finally subsided. Today I know how thunderstorms really form, but sometimes I still have to think about my brother's explanation. It just made sense to me at that time and it took away my fear of thunderstorms. So that's definitely one of my favorite childhood memories."

Logan was silent and when Camille looked at him, she noticed that he still had his eyes closed and was breathing calmly and evenly. She assumed he was sleeping, but then he murmured, "It must be great to have siblings. I wish I had them too. I wish . . ." His voice trailed off. "Wish . . . they would be here . . . still . . . here . . ."

Camille looked at Logan thoughtfully. What did he just say? "What do you mean by that?" she asked, but Logan had finally fallen asleep and didn't hear her anymore. Camille shook her head. She must have misunderstood him. She stroked his hair again, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, pressed her face to his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Logan. Please forgive me," she whispered while some tears trickled down from the corners of her eyes.