Sky pressed her palm tight against the door of Cody's locker and closed her eyes.

Her chest was cracking under the weight of emotions she'd had to keep hidden all day. Every breath she took was a struggle. She wanted to give up, to stop breathing, to make her heart stop beating, to stop fighting and just die. Here. Now. Her palm pressed on the cards and letters people had left for Cody, her fingers tracing the shape of his face in a photo where he was smiling, his smile so wide and happy and carefree that it felt like a knife in the heart.

This first day of school had been even harder than Sky had thought. The way people had stared at her all day, the whispered conversations as she walked the halls, the pieces of paper someone had slid into her locker calling her a slut, whore, murderer—

But that wasn't even the worst. The absolute worst thing was the absence of Cody.

Every corner and every door of this place reminded her of him. There was the library, where he had sought her out and asked her out for the first time. There was the table in the cafeteria, where he had sat with her at lunch dozens of times, smiling at her over the table, his eyes shining when he looked at her, as if she was something amazing, as if he would never grow tired of seeing her. There was the shadowy corner where he had pressed her against the wall and kissed her so gently, his lips so sweet on hers, that she had felt like walking on clouds for the rest of the day—

It hurt. It hurt, even if Sky knew she had been the one to end things with Cody. She had dumped him to be with Hawk, and she had been prepared to deal with all the heartache and shame that followed— But she hadn't been prepared for this. For this gut-wrenching horror and despair that squeezed the life out of her body. It was one thing to live with an ugly breakup than to live with the knowledge that the person you had loved was gone forever, and all that remained were these memories that felt like a knife in the gut.

Cody wasn't gone just from her life. He was gone from this whole fucking world, and how the fuck was she going to live with that?

Sky let out a long, shaky breath and leaned her forehead against the locker, not bothering to fight the tears that fell down her cheeks. She had been holding these tears back all day, until they had grown to be a burning ocean behind her eyelids. Now the waves crashed to the shores inside of her, she could feel the storm building, and she had to get it out, out, out, or it would drown her. So let the tears run free, now that everyone else had left, now that she was alone, now that she finally had this moment she had craved for all day.

Silence. Silence and sorrow surrounded her, and that was all she wanted.

The hot, salty taste of the tears filled her senses, blocking the scent of Cody's things that apparently still were inside the locker. The scent of his clothes, maybe a spare hoodie or a T-shirt, a hint of his spicy cologne, his books, and papers— Sky forced herself to breathe in and out, in and out, slow, focused, until she could gather enough strength to push her forehead off the locker door and open her eyes.

She hadn't come here just to weep. She too, had something she wanted to leave for Cody.

Sky wiped her face with the sleeves of her black hoodie, and found the card from her backpack, hesitating only for a moment before attaching it onto the door with a piece of blue tack. She had to move some of the other cards and pictures to make room for it, but she was careful not to rip or remove anything. Cody deserved to have all of these loving notes on this door. She wanted to imagine that he could still cross the veil, that he could come back and see with his own eyes how much people loved and missed him. But Kat had said that Cody had crossed the river, that there was no coming back—

That thought caused a new wave of tears, and Sky sobbed, slamming her hand against the door, then clenching her fist so that her nails dug into the skin of her palm.

She just wanted Cody to see this card. To hear what she had to say. If she wished for it hard enough, then maybe some part of him would still hear, hear her voice into the afterlife, into wherever he was now, under the Corsican stars.

She had found the card at the bookstore yesterday.

It had been the first time she left home since Cody's death, and that had been only to go to the bookstore and buy The Cloud Atlas. She hadn't found the book - they had promised to order it for her, though - but on her way out of the store she had noticed the rack where the postcards were displayed, and seen this one.

It was the same exact card Cody had given her that day in the library, a lifetime ago. The one with the very cute, grouchy-looking hedgehog and a text that said "I'm sorry I was such a jerk."

So very fitting.

Cody had thought he was a jerk, but truly, he had been the opposite of that. And Sky— well, no matter how highly Cody had thought of her, she knew now that she was the real jerk of this story.

Inside the card Sky had written just two words - Corsican stars - not her name, nothing that could reveal it was from her. She had seen Jess going through all the notes and pictures on this locker earlier today, as if someone had appointed her to that mission. Sky's knees had turned weak with fear, her legs wobbly, but she had managed to turn on her heels and walk away before Jess could see her. She knew well enough what would happen if Jess - or any of Cody's friends - realized this card was from her. They would rip it apart and throw it in the trash, and then they would come after her. She was sure that the notes she had found in her locker today were just the tip of the iceberg of what Jess was capable of.

That was also the reason why she came to this door only now when the classes had ended and the halls were empty. To do this alone.

Sky had asked Hawk to wait for her outside, and he hadn't protested, hadn't argued. Ever since Cody's death, Hawk had been incredibly kind. It made Sky feel a thousand times worse. She didn't deserve his love, his kindness, his understanding. Why he still wanted to be with her, after everything that had happened, was beyond her. Any rational guy would have left after Sky had revealed the truth about Matt—

Sky suppressed that thought before it could fully surface. It was too much, it was too painful. What Matt had done to her— she should have died with that shameful secret, instead of spreading that filth into the world. No good would come of that.

She pressed her palm over the card, and closed her eyes again, exhaustion washing over her like a tidal wave. Cody had understood how she felt. He had understood how it felt to be broken beyond repair.

"Cody— can you hear me?" She breathed, her voice shaking. "I miss you so much—. Please. If you can hear me—"

But her sentence was interrupted, as she heard footsteps from behind. With her heart in her throat, she swirled around.

Tom.

The chubby boy stopped on his feet, clearly surprised to see her. His round cheeks turned red, and emotion Sky didn't recognize broke his voice when he spoke.

"Sorry— I didn't mean to scare you. I— I didn't think anyone was going to be here."

Sky couldn't find her voice to form an answer. It had been like that all day - she had barely managed to form a couple of sentences since walking through the front doors in the morning. She had no problem talking with Dad at home or talking with Hawk, but everyone else—

It felt like her voice was still stuck in her gut, where she had hidden it after screaming her lungs raw in Cody's room a week ago. She had wound her voice into a thread, rolled it into a tight ball, and swallowed it. To bring it back up took tremendous effort, it took strength she didn't have.

She had asked Hawk to tell that to their friends before she came back to school so that they wouldn't ask her questions or expect her to say much. That memo clearly hadn't reached Tom - not that Sky had expected it to.

"You're back in school, then," Tom said, his sad eyes taking in Sky's black clothes, her hollow cheeks, her nervous posture. "I thought I saw you at lunch."

Sky looked down, wrapping her arms around her shivering body. She couldn't meet Tom's eyes, the grief that welled in them, ready to spill over at any moment. She couldn't look at him without feeling his pain, the sorrow that was written all over his face.

"I come here almost every afternoon too." Tom went on, ignoring Sky's silence. "After everyone's gone home… I come here to be alone with him. I don't want them to see."

Sky looked back up, took in Tom's messy hair, his three-day stubble, the purple shadows under his watercolor eyes. She wanted to say something, wanted to say I'm sorry, I'm so sorry— but how do you apologize for killing someone's best friend? She had no words, she had no voice, she had no right to speak, to be heard.

The silence grew long between them, shifting in the air like a living thing, making Sky's chest crumble, but Tom acted like he didn't care. Maybe he didn't. Maybe this awkward silence was nothing compared to what he was feeling, maybe he barely noticed she wasn't saying anything. His steps were slow and his eyes were glued on the locker when he walked closer.

"That from you?" he asked silently, pointing at the card with the grouchy hedgehog.

Sky managed a shaky nod.

Tom observed the picture for a moment, but didn't open the card to see what was inside, for which Sky was grateful. Instead, he took a step back and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans.

"I don't blame you for his death, you know." He said after another short silence. "I don't care what Jess or anyone says… What Cody did wasn't your fault."

Sky felt like he had punched her. Tears blinded her vision. She had seen Tom's pain and had expected for the anger and the rage to crack through it at any moment, had waited for him to shout at her, to blame her, had been preparing herself for his cruel, harsh words, but this—

This was so much worse.

"It was my fault," Sky breathed forcing the bitter words out of her mouth. "You should blame me."

Tom glanced at her, but his eyes were only sad, there was no anger in them.

"After you guys broke up— Cody was devastated. Obviously. But he wasn't— he wasn't suicidal. He wasn't going to kill himself. It was what happened with Blatt that made him do it. I guess he thought his future was ruined."

Sky swallowed hard, trying not to fall apart completely. Tom was too nice. Too kind. Just like Sam and Moon and Demetri and Miguel and Yas— they had all been so fucking nice to her too, so fucking kind and nice and understanding. But that was only because they didn't know the whole truth - they didn't know about Kyler's vendetta against Cody, and what had started that. They didn't know the depths of Sky's guilt and shame.

For a fleeting moment, Sky wanted to tell Tom— But there was no way to make him understand without starting from the beginning, without telling about Matt, and what Cody had done to Kyler— Sky wrapped her arms tighter around her aching body. That story was made of sharp pieces of glass - every time she told it, the words slid her wide open.

"Did you—" she cleared her throat, but still her voice came out throaty and weak. "Did you know that he was selling drugs?"

Tom looked down. He swallowed, as if the words didn't come easily for him either.

"Yeah. I hated it. I always told him it was gonna end badly."

"I didn't know— that he had started that stuff again. I only found out— that day. When I went after him. His mom—" Sky had to stop mid-sentence. The memory of that day bubbled up again, and the pain was as fresh as it had been a week ago. Had Cody's mom not stopped her in the doorway— if she hadn't wasted all that time arguing with that bitch, if she had just pushed past her faster, if she had run the steps up instead of walking—

She would have been in time, and Cody would be alive today.

"I went to his house the other day," Tom said softly, noticing the tears in her eyes. "I heard what you did. That you tried to stop him— and help him."

"I was too late." The words were sharp, their taste was bitter on her lips.

"I know. But at least— at least you tried."

"Did they— is Cody buried?" Sky rasped, her voice failing her. "Was there a funeral? No one's telling me anything."

"He was cremated. And… there was no funeral or memorial service. I— don't know what happened to his ashes. If his parents… just kept them, or—" He stopped talking mid-sentence, his soft, round features twisting into something sharp, as a raw sob broke through.

Without stopping to think, Sky laid a hand on his arm, her fingers gripping the sleeve of his sweater. A pathetic attempt to offer some small comfort, one that he barely noticed.

"I can't believe he's dead—" Tom groaned, tears suddenly breaking free. His sobs were raw and broken, the kind of sobs you'd want no one to see, and yet he didn't even try to hide them. "He— he was like a brother to me. I can't believe he's gone. How am I supposed to go on? I feel like— I feel like—"

"Like there's a hole in your chest?" Sky finished his sentence for him, making Tom look up and meet her gaze. His big, blue eyes were filled with tears, his lips were trembling. The look on his face was hopeless, and it cut through Sky's heart like a knife. She knew how he felt, perhaps better than anyone.

"Yeah. Exactly."

"It's gonna feel like that for a long time," Sky said silently, her hand still on his arm. "And even when… when it starts to get better, that hole is always gonna be there. You have to find ways to deal with that. If you don't, it's just going to get bigger and bigger until it eats you up."

"Any advice? On how to deal with this?" He rasped, his lips still trembling.

"Write. Paint. Do Karate. Go to therapy," She shrugged, and let her hand which had lingered on Tom's forearm, fall. "Whatever works for you. But don't try to fill it with drugs - that'll only make it worse."

"Right," Tom said, and his eyes searched her face. "Are you… going to take your own advice?"

Sky drew in a long, shaky breath and let it fill her lungs, letting it ease some of the tension she'd been carrying inside of her ribcage ever since hearing the gunshot in Cody's home a week and a half ago. She had been writing like a maniac for the past days, writing into the small, leather-covered notebook, writing long, breathless sentences, writing short, sharp, bitter words, writing every little and insignificant thing she could remember about Cody, writing every big and world-changing, heart-shattering word he had ever said to her, she had been bleeding her soul and her heart into that notebook which she was never going to show to anyone, but—

But what Tom said, struck a chord. Writing was not enough. It was letting the hole in her chest bleed but it wound't make it heal.

Maybe it was time to go back to therapy. And to training.

"Yeah," she replied, meeting Tom's eyes. "I am trying to. And I promise— I'm never doing drugs again."

Tom gave a shaky nod and brought his hands to wipe away the tears from his cheeks. There was something raw in that gesture, something almost childlike, that twisted Sky's heart.

"Good," he said. "Cody would hate it if you relapsed."

Sky nodded, an emotion squeezing her chest. He was right, of course. Cody would be devastated if his death was the cause of her relapse, but— But Sky knew she had to stay clear of drugs not because of Cody, but because of herself.

"If you ever need to talk— you can call me. I mean it." Sky said, reaching to touch Tom's upper arm again.

"Thanks," Tom let out a shaky breath. "I appreciate it."

Sky gave his arm an encouraging squeeze, and then let her hand fall. Sensing that Tom wished to spend a moment alone too, she turned to leave. Besides, Hawk was waiting for her outside, and she had no idea how long she'd been here—

"Sky, wait—" Tom's words made her stop only after a couple of steps. Weary, exhausted, she turned to look.

"Cody really loved you," Tom said, his eyes full of tears, but a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "He would want you to be happy."

Those words were an arrow through her chest, a flash of pain so raw it almost brought her to her knees. She tried to blink away the tears, but it did no good. They flowed free, like rivers down her cheeks, down her neck, taking her words away.

Happy. She didn't even remember how it felt to be happy. But she would do whatever it took to get back there. She would go to therapy, she would go to the dojo, she would write and paint and cry, she would start talking again, would talk to her friends, to Dad, to Hawk. She would help Tom and anyone else who was suffering, she would do it all and not look back, because she had promised Kat, because Cody would want it, because this was her only life and she didn't want to spend the rest of it with a hole in her chest.

"Thank you," she breathed, and walked away, her knees so weak it was a wonder she didn't fall.