A/N: Make sure you've read chapter 4 that I posted a few days ago. FFN's alert system isn't working right so you may not have been notified of a new chapter.

When my oldest sisters arrived on Thursday evening, their children were immediately distributed among the child-free siblings. I was given the youngest, which was Celia's daughter Angelina. She was eight months old and had been screaming her head off when they walked in.

"You'll be fine," Celia had shouted over her daughter's cries. "You're so calm and relaxed, it'll help her."

I walked around with Angelina, talking to her and offering her toys and snacks from the diaper bag. Celia, Sofia, their husbands, my parents, and Grandma Rosa were talking and laughing, all without a child to care for. Grandma Isabela had Sofia's oldest daughter Jessica in her lap and was looking through a photo album with her. She didn't get to see her great-grandchildren very often, so she hadn't minded taking care of one of them. I watched Grandma talk to Jessica and tell her stories about when she was a little girl. It took me back to her story about her life before she died and came back. It reminded me of all the children she had in her past life that she didn't have in this one. Did she ever regret changing things because she didn't have them?

Angelina eventually settled on big plastic keys and her pacifier for a while. Celia said she was probably getting tired, but that I needed to keep her awake until seven-thirty. This meant an hour and a half of playing with her, walking around the room with her, giving her baby snacks, and eventually her a bottle. She finished her bottle and seemed happier. I figured Celia and Andres would pack up the kids and leave soon, so my babysitting duties were almost over. Julio came back not long after I got Angelina fed and sat down on the couch. Angelina immediately went to him, and he played with her for a little while and talked about his day in the city. Kids loved Julio.

"Do you want kids someday?" he asked as Angelina played with the buttons on his shirt.

"Probably. You?"

"Definitely," Julio said. "My dad sucks. I want to show him what a real dad looks like."

"I don't think you're supposed to have kids just to prove a point," I told him.

"That's not the only reason," he protested. "Just part of it."

I had no doubt that Julio would be a good father. Jaime Garcia had always given me the impression that having children hadn't been in his plans and he'd left as soon as he thought he could feasibly get away with it. Julio's anger and behavioral issues had come in part from a father that hadn't wanted a genuine relationship with his children and just wanted to throw money at the problem. Even with Julie I had been involved as much as Rachel allowed and took a genuine interest in her life. Jaime had been almost annoyed when Amira had said Julio needed to come to Miami to live with him and stay out of trouble. Jaime hadn't made any real efforts to try to keep his only son on the straight and narrow. Thankfully Julio had been able to get there himself.

Angelina had been sitting on Julio's lap playing with a toy that played music for almost half an hour when she looked over at me, her face screwed up in concentration and eyes watering.

"Oh man, I've had fun hanging out, but it's time for you to go back to Uncle Carlos," Julio said, handing the now smelly baby back to me.

"Thanks a lot," I said. "Are you sure you don't want the practice for your future kids?"

"I'm good."

I waited for her to be finished, then grabbed her diaper bag.

"Put her in pajamas while you're at it," Celia said as I laid the baby down to change. "They're in the front zipper. And make sure you use the cream, or she'll get diaper rash."

"Anything else?" I asked. "Do you want me to enroll her in preschool? Set up her first Communion?"

Celia flipped me off. "Don't be a smart ass."

Once Angelina was changed into a clean diaper and pajamas, I was responsible for getting her to sleep. Thankfully she was used to loud noises and didn't try to fight it. I felt Julio watching me as I held Angelina, and I caught his eye a couple of times. Did he imagine a future where he had kids with me? Or was he just thinking about what we would be doing later that night?

Julio and I waited until we were sure everyone was asleep that night to lock the door and get busy. Sex with Julio in Newark had been a new experience to what we had in Miami, even in those last few sober months. That sex had still been passionate and desperate, but what we'd had in the last couple of days had been slower and more akin to making love. He wanted to explore my whole body, even leaving a mark on my upper thigh.

"Marking my territory," he said when I pointed it out.

I preferred the slower pace. I had been able to have it with Stephanie, and now I got it with him. It made the sex even better, which was not what I was hoping to get out of the weekend.

Despite my protests, Julio insisted on having a postcoital cigarette. I compromised that we could only do it if we got dressed and sat outside. He didn't think it would have the same effect but agreed.

"This would have been better in bed," Julio complained as he sucked on his cigarette.

"And it would have been the last one you ever smoked," I told him after blowing out the smoke from my own. "My mother wouldn't have been happy to find us naked in my bed smoking."

"It would've been worth it," he said with a smile. It faded quickly and he looked down at the ground. "It sucks we only have one more day together. What are you doing for Christmas break?"

"My parents are going to Miami for a week, and Grandma Rosa is going to my uncle's house in Rhode Island. I haven't decided if I want to go or stay home and enjoy the peace."

"You could come to Chicago," Julio suggested. "It's cold as hell, but I love it anyway."

I didn't respond to that but looked out over the dark neighborhood. I was struggling with what to do about Julio. My hope had been that he would get over me by having a relationship with me in high school. But the last two days had made it clear the opposite was happening. When we were alone, there was undisguised affection when he looked at me. He would talk about what he wanted for the future and how he wished he could have it with me. I'd seen how he looked at me when I was holding Angelina and thought about his hopes of being a father one day. When we had sex, he would tell me he loved me. I felt guilty when I couldn't say it back to him. He never demanded it or seemed to expect it, but I knew it had to bother him. It bothered me.

I spent Friday trying to work up the courage to tell him it had to end. But every time I thought I could do it I was interrupted, or he'd look at me and I couldn't find the nerve to break his heart. I told myself I'd do it that night before sleeping with him, but I'd barely gotten into my room and shut the door before he was dragging me into bed with him. Once we were done, we laid on our sides facing each other. He looked happy and relaxed, ready for sleep. I was anxious about what I needed to do. I tried to find the best words, the gentlest way to let him down, but all of them escaped me. He would be hurt no matter how I said it. I opted for the rip the band-aid off approach.

"We can't do this anymore," I told him. The look of surprise on his face was painful as I saw the shock being replaced by hurt.

"Why?" he asked.

"It isn't fair to you. I don't want you to get your hopes up that if we keep having sex that I'll fall in love with you one day. It feels like I'm leading you on, and you deserve better."

Julio sat up in bed. "I don't think that. I know how you feel. I'm not an idiot."

I also sat up. "You're my best friend, and I'm afraid one day you'll start hating me because of this. I don't want to lose you."

Julio's anguish was replaced by anger. "Who the fuck do you think you are telling me what I feel?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at me. "Or what I will feel someday? It ain't up to you what's good for me and what isn't."

"This isn't easy. Don't make it harder."

Julio let out a disgusted huff and got out of bed to start redressing. "If you want to be with that Stephanie girl, just say so. I don't need some bullshit excuse."

"It isn't about her," I said, climbing out of bed to do the same thing. "I would do this even if she wasn't in the picture."

"Then just tell me you don't want me," he snapped. "Stop making shit up about my feelings and what's fair to me. Just tell me you don't want me."

I tried to say the words, but they refused to leave my lips. "I can't," I admitted after a few seconds.

Julio looked like he wanted to put his hand through a wall. Instead, he walked over to the corner where his duffle bag had lived since Tuesday and started cramming stuff in it.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Going to sleep on your couch until my mom gets here in the morning," he said.

"Don't," I said, grabbing his arm. "Stay up here."

"Get your fucking hands off me," he spat, jerking away from my grip. I watched him leave my bedroom and heard him walk quietly down the stairs. I considered following but decided against it. He needed time to calm down. The clock on my table said it was just after midnight. His mother was picking him up in five hours. My alarm was set for four-thirty, so I went back to bed and decided to talk to him before he left.

I headed downstairs at four-thirty and found the living room empty. The front door was closed and locked on the handle, but not the deadbolt. I opened the door and found Julio sitting on the steps smoking.

I pulled the door closed behind me and went over to sit next to him. There was a disposable coffee cup from the 24-hour convenience store down the road and close to a dozen cigarette butts were inside. There was an empty pack of cigarettes lying next to the cup and an open pack with four missing lying between us on the step. He hadn't acknowledged my presence and kept smoking while staring off into the distance.

"I know you're pissed off and I get it," I said. "I do love you, as a friend. That's why I'm doing this. I don't want to hurt you more than I already have."

Julio kept smoking and didn't act like he had even heard me. We sat in silence for at least ten minutes before he finally said something.

"Why can't you tell me you don't want me?" he asked. "That would make it easier."

"I tried to say it, but it's a lie and I don't want to lie to you," I admitted.

Julio shook his head. "You've always been so worried about people finding out about us. Maybe you should have used that time figuring out your shit instead. Don't you think it says something that you can't say you don't want me, but you say you don't want to be in love with me?"

Irritation crawled under my skin, and I spoke before I even realized what I was saying. "You didn't even need a full semester to get that psychology degree finished. Good for you."

"Fuck you," Julio spat. He stubbed out his cigarette. "You think you know better than me, but you don't."

He closed his cigarette box and put it in his bag. "You said you didn't want to lose me, but I think you do. You'll feel better about yourself if I'm not around."

"That isn't true," I said firmly.

Julio scoffed. "You know, if you really didn't want me, I think I could do it. It would hurt but I'd get over it. But you can't even give me that."

My heart stammered in my chest. "What are you saying?"

Julio swallowed hard and I could tell he was trying to keep himself together. "I can't be around you anymore."

The pain in my chest was so intense it made me rub my sternum. "Don't do this."

"Do you think I want to?" Julio asked. There were tears in his eyes and his face was screwed up in pain. "You're the one who said you didn't want to hurt me, so leave me the fuck alone. Maybe I'll get over it someday."

I bit down on the inside of my cheek. This had to be a nightmare. I never imagined this happening. I knew he would be hurt that we couldn't have sex, but this wasn't something I'd considered. This was what I thought would happen if I didn't end the sexual part of our relationship.

"This wasn't what I wanted," I told him. Headlights appeared on the road and second later, Amira's minivan appeared in front of my house. Julio stood, put the lid on his empty cup and grabbed his duffle bag. "Don't leave like this."

Julio grabbed me and hugged me tightly. "Bye," he whispered in my ear. He walked out to the car, stopping to throw his cup in the trash can at the curb, and climbed into the front seat next to his mother. They pulled away a few seconds later and the street was dark again.

I lost track of time as I sat on the steps with my head in my hands. I replayed the last few hours and every word we'd said to each other. Our relationship had been so different in this life that it didn't really resemble what we had last time. I preferred this one. We were closer than we had ever been last time. Being with Julio especially during those first few months after I'd come back had been what saved my sanity some days. Now I'd lost him. It felt like I'd been repeatedly kicked in the gut. I'd give him a few days and call him. I needed to fix things. I couldn't lose him.

I heard the front door open, and someone stepped out on the porch.

"Carlos? Are you okay?" Grandma Isabela asked. I wiped my eyes before turning to face her. She was in her robe and slippers and looked concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, turning back to look out at the road.

"Did Julio leave?"

I nodded. "Yeah, he left a while ago." I stood up and made to go inside. "I'm going back to bed."

But Grandma didn't move out of the doorway. She pulled the door shut and indicated that I should go sit in one of the chairs. I knew she wouldn't let me go until she had interrogated me. If the bakery ever went under, she'd be a shoo-in at Guantanamo Bay.

"What happened with Julio?" she asked once we were both seated. She folded her hands over her knee like we'd just sat down for a therapy session.

"I told him we can't be together. It isn't fair to him. Then he told me he can't be around me anymore."

"Because he's in love with you and you don't believe you're in love with him?" she asked.

"I'm not in love with him," I said shortly. "I thought I was doing the right thing because I didn't want to hurt him more. He wanted me to tell him I didn't want him because it would be easier for him to get over it. But I can't. I don't want to lie to him, but I can't lead him on either."

Grandma watched me for a beat. "Carlos, I know it would be hard for you. Our culture doesn't make it easy for people to be gay. But if you want to be with him, don't let other people's opinions stop you. You're a strong person. You can withstand it."

I shook my head. "I came back to be with Stephanie. To do things differently this time. I want to be with her sooner. I want to treat her better and have kids with her. I want to make sure she doesn't die in that car accident. I can't do those things if I'm with Julio."

Grandma put her elbow on the arm of her chair and rested her chin in her hand. "You told me the relationship with Julio was more serious this time. Have you considered that maybe it changes things?'

"No," I snapped. "It doesn't change anything. I'm still going to be with Stephanie."

My grandmother gave me an understanding look that also told me to watch my tone. She wouldn't hesitate to take her slipper off and hit me with it if I talked to her like that again.

"Do you ever think about the kids you had in your last life?" I asked after a few minutes of silence.

Grandma closed her eyes and grimaced. "Every day," she said after a moment. "And I miss them. I like Julio so much because he reminds me of my oldest son, Marco. He was nine when I died, but I think he would have been a lot like Julio at that age."

"Do you ever regret not having them? Was escaping worth losing your other children?"

Grandma nodded. "It was the right thing to do. As much as I loved them and still miss them, they deserved better. I didn't want my boys to grow up thinking that was how to treat a woman, or for my girls to believe that was what they had to accept. I'll always miss them, but I don't regret sparing them that life."

I leaned forward and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I don't know whether to have Julie," I admitted. "I upended Rachel's life when I got her pregnant. I couldn't be a father to Julie. Even though Ron was good to her, I felt guilty. I can't imagine not having her, but I also don't want to carry the guilt. Is that wrong?

Grandma shook her head. "It's a difficult choice. I understand your hesitation. Do you believe it's possible to change things? To do it differently so that you can be a father to her?"

I shook my head. "I was just starting as a Ranger when she was born. I was in the Army until she was six. Rachel and I wouldn't work as a couple, so we'd be divorced, and she would be in Miami with her family. The battalions I'll be in are all based in Georgia, so I would rarely get to see her."

"What would Rachel have done if she hadn't gotten pregnant?" Grandma asked.

"College, probably. If I don't meet her and she goes on to have the life she would have, it might also mean she doesn't marry Ron and have her other two kids. And that also makes me feel guilty."

"There are consequences to either choice," she said. "How long do you have to decide?"

"Three years."

"You have to decide which choice will do either the most amount of good or cause the least amount of harm. I believe that no matter what choice you make, it'll be the right one. You have a good heart, and it's clear to me you care very much about your daughter and Rachel. You want to do right by them. You'll figure it out."

She was right. I'd figure it out and whatever happened would be the right thing. "What about Julio? Any advice there?"

"If you can't be with him, then you need to let him go," she said. I opened my mouth to argue, but she held up a hand. "You said you want to be fair to him, and not to hurt him any more than you have already. If he doesn't want you in his life, then you need to respect that. You pushing the issue is only to make yourself feel better."

I felt my throat tighten and I wanted to yell at her that she was wrong. I couldn't lose my best friend. But deep down I knew she was right.

"I'm not doing much good with my second chance so far," I said. "I've lost my best friend. Hopefully I haven't ruined my future with Stephanie by meeting her early."

"You can only do your best," Grandma said. "What you want may not always be what happens, despite your best efforts and intentions."

"That doesn't make me feel better," I told her.

"You'll be okay, mijo," she said. "I know you will."

Losing Julio hurt more than I could have possibly imagined. Each passing day just cemented the reality that I wasn't likely to talk to him anytime soon. If ever again. Now I was waiting to see what the future held with Stephanie. And for the first time since coming back, I wasn't sure I wanted things to work in my favor. The few weeks we had been together had put a spotlight on aspects of her and our relationship as a whole both from the past and in the present time. I wasn't sure if our mental age difference would allow for something deeper at this point. I loved her and loved being with her but found myself both hoping and dreading that she would choose me. I resisted the urge to call her once school resumed to get her answer. My usually patient manner was decidedly impatient for her decision. She finally called two weeks after Thanksgiving while I was getting ready for work.

"How was your Thanksgiving?" she asked.

"It could have been better. Yours?"

"It was good," she said. There was an awkward pause and I waited for her to say more.

"I really like Josh, and I want to keep seeing him. But I really like you too, Carlos. I know you want something more serious, but can't we keep seeing each other for a while and just see where things go?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The knot in my chest eased up now that I had an answer, but a mixture of emotions replaced it. "No. I meant what I said. I'm not sharing a girlfriend. It's fine."

I heard her sigh and imagined she was playing with her necklace. "I'm really sorry, Carlos."

"Me too," I said.

I hung up the call and sat down on the edge of my bed. I wasn't surprised by her decision. She had already made it clear I was too much for her. I should have spared us both the time and ended it that weekend. I knew I'd meet Stephanie again in ten years, but would this brief relationship now change it all too much? What would that relationship in the future look like?

Losing her hadn't hurt nearly as much as losing Julio. Maybe it was because there was a guarantee of seeing her again whereas I had no idea what would happen with him. I had debated ignoring my grandmother's advice and calling Julio anyway but decided against it. I figured my best hope of getting my friend back was to respect his wishes and give him time to heal. Calling to beg him to change his mind wasn't for his benefit, but my own.

I told my father about my plans to join the Army after my sophomore year. I wanted to have more money saved and even some invested before I joined the Army this time around, so I would need more work. I asked him not to say anything to my mother and he begrudgingly agreed so long as I never told her he knew so much earlier than her.

We left for our Christmas in Miami on the 20th. My parents insisted on driving because they didn't want to spend the money on airfare. This meant I was subjected to their bickering about whether to drive straight through or spend the night. I repeated my actions from the trip home in June by driving the last leg of the trip. They both slept the rest of the way, which was fine by me. I needed the quiet. We were staying at my grandmother's house, which meant we would have to hear a baby crying all night. My father had brought ear plugs from work to help him sleep. My mother had scolded him for it because she didn't mind hearing the baby cry. I'd accepted a pair from him and promised to only wear them when my mother wasn't around.

"Have you talked to Julio lately?" Mariana asked me later that night after my parents and grandmother had gone to bed. We were sitting downstairs with Paolo. Olivia was in bed and Mariana had the monitor next to her.

"Not since he left after Thanksgiving," I said. "Why?"

"I've been trying to call him, but he hasn't returned my calls. Do you know what's going on?"

I shrugged. "Maybe school has kept him busy?"

Mariana shook her head. "No way. We talked to him every week until Thanksgiving. Now nothing. Eduardo hasn't heard from him either. Did something happen while he was there?"

I shrugged again. "He didn't say anything to me."

I could tell Mariana was suspicious and wanted to press me about Julio, but I managed to change the subject. "How's your job going, Paolo?"

"Good. Better than I'd imagined. We're hoping to be out on our own next year," he said. "My parents said they'd be willing to help us buy a house, and so did Isabela. Between them and the savings we have, we should be able to put down a decent down payment."

"Look at you two being all grown up," I said with a grin. "Married, a baby, buying a house. It seems like just six months ago we were still in high school."

"Don't remind me," Mariana said with a sigh. "Don't get me wrong, I love Olivia and Paolo, but I would have rather waited for all this." Paolo nodded in agreement.

I shrugged. "Look at it this way, you'll get rutabaga and all the other vegetables out of the house early on and you'll get to live your own life again."

"Ugh, we'll be so old," Mariana complained. "We'll be thirty-seven when Olivia finishes high school. And that's not counting any other kids we have someday." Mariana had no idea that she would be six months' pregnant at Olivia's eighteenth birthday dinner. She'd probably jump in front of a bus if she knew.

"Thirty-seven isn't old," I said. Mariana looked at me like I'd lost my mind.

"It's ancient, Carlos. We'll be halfway to retirement."

I did my best not to roll my eyes. She would have to learn for herself that life and fun didn't end at thirty. I'd had the same mindset the first time around, but now I knew that my thirties were the best decade of my life. Well, except for the whole losing Stephanie and then dying part.

I went to bed that night thinking about Julio. He had cut off contact not just with me, but with Mariana, Paolo, and Eduardo as well. I didn't want him to feel like he had to cut them out of his life just because of me. I debated whether to call or email, opted for email since it was after midnight, and sat down at my grandmother's desktop to send out the email.

Julio,

Don't cut off Mariana, Paolo, and Eduardo because of me. They're worried about you. I'll keep my distance like you asked.

Carlos

I sent the email after reading it a couple of times. I didn't expect a response. He didn't need to give me one. I wanted to respect his request to stay away. It was clearly the only way he would get over me, and he needed to for his own sake. He could get back on his path to Jasmine and maybe by the time they got married in sixteen years, we could be friends again. I hoped so. I really didn't want to imagine a life where I wasn't friends with Julio ever again.

I had hoped Mariana or Eduardo would get a call from Julio after I sent my email, but by Christmas nothing had happened. I hadn't received any response, but that was less surprising. I was glad to spend time with Mariana, Eduardo, and Paolo. I told them about my decision to drop out of school after two years to join the Army. Mariana had expressed concerns about me getting killed in war, but Eduardo had supported my decision. He claimed he would have joined me, but he had a bad back from carrying the weight of being the funny one in the family.

I woke up early on Christmas Day. My watched said it was 4:10. Right around the time I'd been murdered the previous Christmas. I thought back on the last year and how quickly it had passed. My concerns about slipping up had lessened significantly. I had a few times where I'd almost reference something that hadn't happened or didn't exist yet, but I'd either caught myself or made some excuse for it. I thought back to my previous life with Stephanie and the brief relationship I'd had with her this time around. I still worried about what the change in the timeline might do to our future relationship but forced myself not to worry about it. I could make up for it.

I rubbed my forehead where the bullet had killed me a year earlier. I had asked Grandma's opinion on whether we had reset everything when we came back or if there were alternate timelines. It felt like something out of a sci-fi novel. Grandma told me she believed that we were living in an alternate universe from the one we'd left. In that one, our families grieved us and had worked to move on with their lives. But we would never know what happened because we could never go back.

My father increased my hours after the first of the year and didn't hesitate to put me on jobs. The winter was usually a slow time for him and many of his employees worked other jobs during that time because he didn't have much for them. He paid me well, but less than what his other men earned. That meant he was using me to do anything I was qualified to do. I didn't mind the work. I liked hard work and was used to long hours in my old life. My father didn't mind it either. He was giving me some of the grunt work he would usually be doing. He said the relief for his knees and back was worth the money he paid me. The hard work was good for my mind. It gave me something else to focus on besides Julio's silence.

I worked for my father twenty to thirty hours a week depending on how much work was available. When I wasn't working or doing school-related things, I was training at the gym. I wasn't looking to turn into a bodybuilder but wanted to be strong and fit enough to do well in my Ranger training. I had impressed my superiors the first time around, which was why they had made sure to get me into RIP the first chance they could. I wanted to repeat the experience.

Mariana scared the hell out of me in mid-February when she called me at four in the morning.

"Julio joined the Army!" she exclaimed. I was half-asleep and it took a few seconds to even realize who was calling.

"What?" I asked. "Why are you calling me now to tell me this?"

"I'm at the ER with Paolo. He's sick and the doctor thinks it's his gallbladder. He's going to have surgery or something. Anyway, I was walking down to this waiting area when I saw Mr. Garcia. He works overnights here, you know. I asked him how Julio was, and he said he joined the Army back in December and left for basic training last week."

That was a surprise. Julio had never mentioned any desire to be in the military, either in this life or the last. Why had he done it? He'd thought I was crazy to want to join the military during wartime, so his joining didn't make sense. I hoped he was in the right frame of mind. The military did all kinds of assessments, but that didn't guarantee everyone who got in was in the greatest mental health. Some were just better at hiding it.

My training had to slow down some when April rolled around because there was more work to do, but I'd made enough progress in the first few months that slowing down wasn't detrimental to my long-term goals. I thought about Julio more that month. His basic training would be ending, and he would move on to his advanced individual training. I wondered what sort of job he had chosen. I could probably find out from his father but didn't think it a good idea. Jaime would tell Julio that I was asking about him, and Julio wouldn't like it. Better to let Mariana do the digging and get the information from her, though it came at a price. She knew something was up when I had no information about Julio's life and wasn't beating down his door in Chicago. I eventually told her we'd had a fight and hadn't made up. I refused to tell her what it was about, just that I was giving him space. She hadn't liked being left in the dark, but stopped pushing after I threatened to be the next person to quit taking her calls.

"He's going into a medical job," Mariana told me at the beginning of May. "Something about logistics and supply stuff. Jaime said he won't be running into minefields, so that's a relief."

I'd been worried that Julio wasn't in a good headspace and would end up in a job where he would have the chance of getting killed because he didn't care enough to stay alive. It was probably arrogant of me to think he would want to die because he wasn't with me, but considering our senior year of high school, I didn't think my concern was unwarranted. The Army had been good for me. It had given me discipline and fortitude that I wasn't sure I would have found elsewhere. I hoped it would give him what he needed.

Part of me wanted to join early, but I had a very specific timeline I needed to follow to ensure I met the same people and got into the same training classes at the exact times. I didn't want to go into the Army with all this knowledge to have it wasted because I signed up for something a day later and ended up in a different group. I knew what days I would walk into the recruiting office in Newark, take the ASVAB, have my physical, take my oath, and when I would go to basic training. As long as I stayed on that path, I should be fine. So I spent the next year throwing myself into school and work. I told myself I couldn't get stuck worrying about Julio. I had to let him go, at least for now, and hope he found his way back.

A/N: RIP stands for Ranger Indoctrination Program. It was the training program for Rangers at the time he would have joined. It's called RASP these days.