I wanted to say thank you to everyone who continues to read.

Chapter 12: Gone to Heaven

Lizzy left the Rileys thinking about everything Kyle and Jack told her. She wasn't sure what to make of it and needed advice. Finally she decided on calling her uncle Jim, then realized the time. It really was late in the day and calling him wasn't an option. It would just have to wait, so she went back to the school and tried to get some sleep.

Wednesday morning, she talked to the art teacher to let her know they had permission for the bake sale and that spread like fire through the school. After play practice, Lizzy spoke to the city officials and got the permits required for the car wash. Then she dropped by Charlie's and baked up a storm to include 10 dozen cookies, three pans of brownies, and her favorite: four dozen cupcakes. Once she finished that she sat down in the living room exhausted.

"Are you still not talking to Fulton and Adam?" Charlie asked. He had seen a change in his roommate who, while he still believed he was right about getting her to talk to McGill, was starting to wonder if he had gone about it the wrong way.

"Should I be?" Lizzy asked.

"I know what they did hurts, but can you try to understand why they did it?"

"I don't know, Charlie. Does forgiving them mean forgiving McGill for what he did? Does it mean I've been a hypocrite for blaming McGill but not Larson? Can I forgive them both now?"

"That's a lot to think about. I can see why this is so hard on you. Is there something I can do to help you figure this all out?"

"Find me somebody who understands both sides," Lizzy suggested.

"That sounds easy enough."

"That's the difference though, isn't it?"

"I guess we'll see."

"Guess we will."

Thursday morning, Lizzy dropped the goodies off with Emma who would be handling the bake sale. At lunch the captain of the varsity cheer squad came up to her as she got her lunch. "My name is Amber. I don't know if we've officially met—"

"We haven't because you and your team refused to come to the baseball games."

"Nobody ever cared about baseball, except the parents of the baseball team. We use the spring semester as a chance to do cheer competitions. The farthest we've ever made is State. We can't seem to make it to regionals. Anyway, since you've made it to playoffs it tradition for my team to help your team with whatever they need during that time."

"I'm not team captain so I don't know why you're coming to me with this."

"Because your team captain asked me to; said you would know what your team needed."

"The only thing my team needs is to stop being lazy. However," Lizzy paid for her lunch and walked into the cafeteria spotting the cheerleaders right off. "If you girls aren't busy next weekend, Saturday the 21st, the art club would appreciate your help with a car wash."

"How does that help the baseball team?"

"Because I promised we'd help but we also have a double header that day. Talk to Emma Benson. She's in charge. That's her there." Lizzy pointed out the light brown haired art girl. Amber headed for Emma and Lizzy sighed before walking over to the original Ducks. Though to the rest of the school they were known as the jv hockey team, she would always consider them the original Ducks. Instead of sitting by Fulton like she usually did, Lizzy plopped down between Kenny and Luis.

"Heard you were doing a fundraiser for the art show," Luis said. He didn't seem surprised to see her sitting next to him. She was grateful for that.

"There's a bake sale going on right now and next Saturday there should be a car wash contingent on it not raining," Lizzy answered.

"Do you need any help?"

"Uh, the bake sale should be covered, but we'd never turn down help for the car wash. Oh, thanks for the help with the bake sale," Lizzy said, seeing the five bagged cookies on his tray.

"You have got to try these," Luis said, holding up a chocolate chip cookie. "I was only going to buy one, but the pretty girl sitting there told me I had to taste it. I did and magnifico, delicioso ... They're—They're ... Muerto e ido al cielo, bueno."

"Je ne comprends pas," Lizzy said. Being closer to Chris than Seth meant that she learned French more than she learned Spanish. Besides that Seth had only learned Spanish to learn to swear in front of their father. Chris on the other hand had learned French to impress a girlfriend who was only into his popularity.

"Died and gone to heaven good," Luis clarified. Lizzy gave him a confused look. She didn't know he could speak French. "They wouldn't let me take Spanish. Said I needed to challenge myself. Anyway, I don't know who made these cookies, but I had to have them. There was something so familiar and comforting about them that passing them up was just not going to happen," Luis answered.

"They're made with double chocolate chips and love and I have a drug test to prove it," Lizzy said.

"How does a drug test prove it's made with love?" Kenny asked.

"It doesn't, but it does prove there's nothing but baking ingredients in them," Lizzy said. "Charlie eats them every year. I send him some when he comes to visit for Thanksgiving."

"You made these?" Luis asked.

"I thought they tasted familiar," Kenny said.

"I can bake like MJ plays basketball. Like Joe Montana plays football, like—Like Adam plays hockey."

"You know what? I believe you." Luis nodded.

"Hey Liz, what's this about a car wash?" Charlie asked.

Lizzy looked down the table at her cousin. "Like I told Luis, it's on the 21st to help the art club raise money for the art show. All of you are welcome to help. The varsity cheerleaders and part of the baseball team will be helping as well. Kenny here has volunteered to talk to Emma to get all the details." Kenny shot her a stunned look. He had no problem talking to Emma he just wondered if she was trying to oust him to the rest of the team.

"As in the same Saturday as your double header and the musical?" Connie asked concerned.

Lizzy noticed she had the entire team's attention. "Technically yes, but that was the only day I could get the permits. Besides the art club is hosting so it's not like I have to be there. Guys, I know it's a Saturday and that you would rather be anywhere but the school, especially those that have to be here for the musical, but we could definitely use the help," Lizzy pleaded to the team.

"I'm in," Charlie agreed.

"Fult and I are too," Portman agreed.

"Sure," Kenny said.

"Anything for a pretty girl," Luis said. Lizzy gave him a hard look but he only smirked.

"Thanks guys. Kenny will get all the info from Emma and y'all can let her know that you're helping out."

"Emma?" Charlie asked.

"Emma Benson, she's ... right in front of me," Lizzy said surprised.

"Do you have any more of those cookies? You know the double chocolate chip ones?"

"You ran out of 10 dozen cookies in half an hour?"

"They took one bite and had to have more."

"I can't bring anymore in until tomorrow. Try the cupcakes, they're almost as good."

Emma sighed. She was not happy about that. "Hey," Kenny said, "you have the details for the car wash?"

She flashed him as smile. "Saturday the 21st from 1 to 4 in the student parking lot. I have a clipboard at the bake sale table for volunteers. You guys can sign up for an hour, two, or all day, we'll take anything you can give us," Emma explained.

"Do you have supplies and flyers and stuff?" Luis asked.

"Aly is making the flyers now and we should have everything else by next Saturday thanks to the varsity cheerleaders. We'll let you know if we need any more help," Emma told them.

"Thanks," Lizzy said.

"Please, please, please, consider making twice as many cookies as you did last time." Lizzy sighed but nodded and Emma walked off.

"Are you still mad at Adam and Fulton?" Luis whispered in her ear.

"Don't want to talk about it," Lizzy answered. Thankfully the bell rang before he could push it any farther. After classes, Lizzy spoke with the dean and got the $10,000 check to get the gear her team needed since their new uniforms only cost $2,000. From there she went to play practice and after that, met the team at Hans' Sports Shop. Once they had all the gear they needed– baseballs, bats, catcher's padding, a new batting helmet for Lizzy–most of the team headed back for the school and Lizzy headed northeast to the Reeds'. Nat opened the door for her and ushered her into the kitchen where they both took seats at the counter. "Where's Uncle Jim?" Lizzy said.

"At the Twins game," Nat answered. Jim was a photographer for a big sports' magazine in Minneapolis. Since Lizzy had grown up down the street from the Reeds and her parents were close to them, Nat and Jim were not only her godparents and her best friend's parents, but also her adopted aunt and uncle. However Nat respected Casey greatly and refused to let Lizzy call her aunt. Since Lizzy didn't have an uncle, Casey and Charlie's father had divorced when Charlie was little, and his step-father hadn't stuck around either, Jim didn't have the same stigma.

"Oh. Nat, do you think I'm a terrible person?" Lizzy asked.

"Honey," Nat answered, smiling softly, "You're a teenager without the firm, yet kind and loving, guiding hand you need. You can tell me anything, you know that. Is this about what Fulton and Adam did?" Lizzy stared at her godmother in disbelief. She wondered if everyone knew about it. "You haven't talked to my son in three days; he called to see if there was anything he could do to fix it. Jim and I told him to give you time; you'd come to him when you're ready."

"Maybe I have been too hard on McGill. I mean it was four years ago and Adam wasn't seriously injured by it. He was just a kid trying to impress his coach. Then again, he did shove him down without provocation. But he seemed sorry for it. However ... it has been four years since it happened and he's just now trying to apologize or at the very least explain it. But ... I wasn't this angry with Larson and he went after someone I care about just as much or possibly even more. Am I wrong here?" Lizzy said, taping her finger against the counter. She was more thinking out loud than asking Nat for answers. Finally she looked up at Nat, her eyes focusing on the older woman. "Can I make a double batch of cookies? We're having a bake sale at school and they seem to be really popular."

Nat wasn't surprised by the sudden subject or by the quick fire questions. Lizzy often did such when she was seriously trying to figure something out. Nat questioned the young girl about the bake sale instead since she looked like she wasn't ready to take advice on her situation. "What's the bake sale for?"

"The art show. If they don't raise enough money we can't put one on."

"Of course, sweetheart." As Lizzy got the ingredients out and mixed the batter, she explained what McGill had told her and what Kyle and his uncle said to explain it. By the time she finished talking, the first dozen were coming out of the oven and Jim was coming in the door.

"Where is my sweet butterfly?" Jim called.

'Butterfly?' Lizzy mouthed in disbelief. Nat didn't blush, but did answer. "In the kitchen."

"Okay, what's wrong?" Jim insisted, his voice getting closer to the kitchen. "You never answer like that unless ..." Jim trailed off and Nat continued to watch Lizzy. The young girl took this as her cue to answer.

"Hi, Uncle Jim," Lizzy said as he entered the kitchen.

"Unless that," Jim finished his earlier sentence. "How's my sweet Gator?"

"Conflicted," Lizzy answered honestly. If these two were going to help her, she had to be honest.

"I think she's ready," Nat said as her husband walked over and pecked her on the lips.

"Ready for what?" Lizzy asked. She shut the oven after putting a new batch in. Jim and Nat were sitting on the other side of the counter.

Jim smiled and reached across the counter and touched Lizzy's hand. "You are not a bad person for holding a grudge against McGill or not holding one against Larson. You are also allowed to be angry at Adam and Fulton for setting you up," Jim said. Lizzy still felt terrible and he noticed. "And you're rightfully feeling terrible. Your long held prejudices are being challenged, not by Fulton or Adam or anyone else, but by yourself. You're thinking about this from more than one side. And it's hitting you that you could be wrong."

"Am I? Should I be mad at McGill and Larson? Should I move on and just forget about all this?"

"You should sit all four boys down and talk to them about how you're feeling," Nat said.

"Separately, is probably best," Jim added. "Either way it's up to you if you can put this behind you or if you just want to move past it."

At first Lizzy was unsure how they were different options. It took her another batch of cookies going into then coming out of the oven before she figured it out. Putting it behind her meant being the better person and not holding a grudge against anyone but moving past it, in this sense, only meant to forget that it happened and get back to the way she had been before any of it had come up. As Lizzy considered these thoughts, she continued to bake. Nat and Jim watched her wistfully. Her flurry of movement and concentration was soothing for both of them. Then Nat spoke up hoping to help Lizzy decide either way. "Everyone says you remind them of your father," Nat said softly. "I can see that. Dark hair, blue eyes, attitude, fierce protectiveness, it all makes sense, but there are also things that your father doesn't have. Namely your strength. You have this inner strength that only comes from your mother. When your mother's parents found out that she was married and had a kid, they wanted nothing to do with her. She never gave upon them though."

"They were mad that Matt was a year old when she got married?" Lizzy answered.

"Also that she was four months pregnant with Chris and that she dropped out of college. Anyway she kept trying to make things better with her parents no matter how hard it was. I know you, sweetheart, and I know how strong you are. Either way we will stand behind your decision."

"Thank you." Lizzy finished the cookies and smiled at her godparents. "Thanks for all this, it really did help."

"Of course, sweetheart. Anything you need," Nat said.

"Saturday we have a double header and it's the last day of the bake sale."

"I'll bring some of my famous sugar cookies."

"Thank you."

"And we'll be at the musical Friday and Saturday too," Jim added. "I'd love to be there Sunday but the Twins play the Angels in California."

"I understand. I should get going. Thanks again for the cookies." Lizzy drove to her aunt's house where she made six dozen more double chocolate chip cookies then crashed there overnight.

Fridays were typically Lizzy's most favorite day of the week. End of the week, only four classes–not counting the two study halls, and baseball practice. This Friday however wasn't shaping up to be a good day. As much help as Nat and Jim had been, she still didn't know what to do. During Civics, Guy passed Lizzy a note. She glanced at him but saw he was intently taking notes. She placed the note in her lap and, keeping an eye on the teacher, slowly unfolded it. Since the Ducks had grown close in the sixth grade, Charlie and Connie had made up a language and proceeded to teach everyone how to write it. It was similar to Pig Latin in that it involved adding letters where they didn't belong. It made it easier to pass notes and not let the entire class in on it if a teacher ever insisted on them reading it aloud. The note resting in her lap now was written in that language, officially called Duck-onese. All it said was 'talk to Fulton.' Lizzy looked at Guy again but wrote back simply 'Fine.' She wouldn't be happy about it, but since he had always given such great advice in the past, maybe fixing things with him would help her decide what to do with Larson and McGill.

After Civics was lunch and though she knew she could avoid him then if she really wanted to, part of her didn't really want to. So she got her lunch and sat down at the Ducks' normal table across from Fulton and Portman. They sat in silence for a bit.

"So, how 'bout those Mustangs?" Portman asked. The Mustangs were Chicago's NHL team and Portman's and Fulton's favorite team. Fulton and Lizzy looked at him but didn't say anything.

Lizzy took a deep breath and looked back at Fulton. "Adam said it wasn't your fault," Lizzy said softly.

"What?" Fulton asked in disbelief. "You want to do this here?"

"Would you like to wait?" Lizzy asked. "I have baseball practice after school then I'm meeting Joey for dinner plus I have to make more cookies and cupcakes for the last day of the bake sale."

"Here's fine," Fulton sighed. Lizzy blinked at him waiting for him to confirm or deny it. "No, I didn't want you to meet with him, but Adam convinced me. I don't want you to blame him though. It has been four years and Adam is perfectly healthy. Nothing happened to him because of what McGill did. Adam said you were over it. I didn't think you were and told him that but he said even if you weren't, that getting you to forgive–or at least hear McGill out could do wonders for you. Both as a person and a friend. The fact that you're willing to hear me out even knowing it's partially my fault means that you're trying to be a bigger and better person. I know that it's hard for you to accept that McGill isn't completely to blame for what happened."

"You think that?"

"I know that. He had a very hard time telling Coach Riley no. If you saw Matt do the same thing, would you consider it?"

"Consider what? Hurting someone to keep them from scoring? Never." Fulton narrowed his eyes. "Not if I just saw him doing it. That's not to say I wouldn't. Just ... not from watching it."

"But if you saw it and he told you it was okay, you'd do it. Don't say you wouldn't."

"But he's my brother, not just a random hockey coach."

"Is Bombay just a random hockey coach to Charlie? No, he's not. And it's not any different. When your dad works a lot, you look for anybody to fill that position. For me it was Ben, for you it was Matt, and for a lot of those Hawks, it was Jack Riley." Fulton wasn't telling her anything that Kyle, Jack or McGill hadn't already said but it definitely made more sense coming from him. She wasn't sure if it was the way he had put it or if it was because she trusted him more than anyone; either way she knew that she was being unfair to McGill by laying the entire blame on him. Before she could say anything in response a small blonde girl approached her.

"You're Lizzy Jacobs? The dean said these came for you today," the girl said softly. Lizzy looked at the box she had set on the table. She hadn't ordered anything that the dean had to be aware of and she wasn't sure who would send her something through the dean. As Lizzy continued to stare at it, Portman reached over and stabbed the tape a few times with his plastic fork. Then he opened it.

"Looks like jerseys," Portman said, looking in the box. Lizzy gave him an exasperated look then stood up and looked in the box. She looked back up to thank the girl only to find she had gone. Lizzy pulled the top jersey out by the shoulders noticing it was mainly red and saw her name and number in black on the back. She turned it around to see the word Ducks in black across the chest. "69, really?" Portman asked. He raised an eyebrow at the implication.

"Didn't we ... No, that's right. Orion is the only coach I've had that wouldn't let me have that number." Lizzy had played for the Ducks for a couple games when Adam had fallen ill and hadn't been able to shake a hacking cough. Neither his dad nor Orion let him play until it was better. The Ducks, mainly Charlie had gone at Lizzy full force to get her to play again. A three hour long phone conversation with Matt and then one with Ben and she was back on the ice. However Orion refused to let her wear the number she had worn since Pee Wees.

"Why not?" Portman asked. "And why would you want that number?"

"For the same reason you're questioning me about it. When I started playing hockey Matt said that one of the few numbers never used in pro hockey was the number 69. Ever since then I've always used that number. When I started playing baseball I used the same number and later found out it's only been used once in the MLB. I mean it's not like it's a bad number or anything. Ever since Pee Wees it's just been my number." Lizzy put her new baseball jersey on then went to pick up the box.

"Are you two okay?" Portman asked.

"Why'd ya do it? Am I wrong? Should I ...?" Lizzy muttered to herself thinking of everything she wanted to ask Fulton. "Yeah, we're good," Lizzy said, smiling at Fulton. He nodded agreeing with her.