Derrick Chaseton heard his mom, Brooke Chaseton, calling from downstairs.

"Coming!" he shouted back.

Derrick was fourteen and in the ninth grade at Wyeston High School. He had shoulder length brown hair, was five feet seven inches, and, like almost every other guy in the ninth grade, played soccer and lacrosse. Derrick also rollerbladed in what little spare time he had.

But unlike the rest of his schoolmates, Derrick had tested positive with HIV two months ago. The doctor said that when he had his appendix removed and had to have a blood transfusion, that he accidentally received contaminated blood. But this problem hadn't stopped him yet. He was still full of life and zest.

Derrick ran down the stairs and into the dinning room where his mom was. Brooke had aged a lot in the past two months and even thought she was only forty-two, her face was drawn and haggard.

Derrick's mom sat at the table, sifting through the pile of bills in front of her. She rubbed her eyes wearily and looked up at Derrick. He looked at her and tilted his head to the side. "What's up?" he asked.

Brooke stood and said, "Go put on a clean shirt. We have to go to the doctor."

Derrick rolled his eyes and walked back up the stairs. "Go put on a clean shirt," he mocked under his breath. "What's wrong with this one?"

As Derrick was changing, he wondered why he had to go to the doctor again. He figured that the doctor had another antiretroviral to try on him. He was always taking pills and getting shots. I'm starting to feel like a lab rat, he thought. Derrick grabbed his Adidas jacket off his unmade bed and ran out to the car where his mom was waiting. He opened the door of his mom's dark green Isuzu Trooper and cleared some blueprints off the seat.

"Oh sorry," said his mom. "I was just trying to get some work done on the Hudson's house." Brooke was an interior designer and her job took a lot of time and effort.

"No prob," Derrick said, hopping into the car.

Derrick's mom backed out of the driveway and started down the road. Derrick gazed out the window and watched as the scenery rushed by. He thought about how much he liked where he lived. I'd never want to leave here, he thought.

Derrick reached forward and turned up the radio as his mom turned the Isuzu into the doctor's office.

Brooke and Derrick climbed out of their car and walked towards Dr. Cognovich's office. His office was a two story brick building with light blue shutters and lush gardens planted all around.

Derrick and his mom entered the office and sat down in the waiting room. The room had ugly brown carpeting and white walls. There were children's toys randomly scattered around the floor. Derrick sat and started to read a soccer magazine, while his mom looked at the various pamphlets along the walls.

Soon, a brown haired attendant came out, holding a clipboard. Everyone in the office knew who he was, so the attendant smiled at him and told him to follow her. He stood up and followed the pretty brunette into a check-up room.

"The doctor will be here in a few minutes," she said as she left, closing the door behind her.

Derrick looked around the room at the white walls speckled with blue paint. He sat on an examination table and his mom sat in a hard chair across from him. There were magazine racks above his head and doctor's odds and ends on a table to the left of him.

Derrick sighed and looked at his mom. She was pretty with green eyes and brown hair. Derrick and his father admired her for her undying courage when facing the current situation. Somehow, she still managed to find time to do her job well.

Suddenly the door opened, and in bounced Dr. Cognovich. He was in his late fifties and always made Derrick smile.

"Hello Derrick!" beamed the doctor, offering his hand to Derrick. Derrick shook his hand heartily and grinned.

"So, doc. Give me the lowdown. Why am I here?" laughed Derrick. Dr. Cognovich sobered up a little and turned sympathetically to Brooke.

"Mrs. Chaseton," he began. "I'm sure you know that were not meeting under the best terms."

"Yes," nodded Derrick's mom.

"Would someone mind clearing me in?" Derrick protested. Dr. Cognovich turned toward him.

"Don't worry Derrick. We're just going to do some bloodwork. Remember when we drew some blood back, late December?" Derrick nodded. "Well, we sent that away to a lab to test if your HIV virus had developed into something more. We received the results yesterday and called you. It turns out that there is a forty-five percent chance that you may have AIDS. But this isn't definite, so we're going to draw more blood today and send it to another lab that has the technology to give us a definite yes or no." Derrick stared in shocked silence. "But don't worry bud," Dr. Cognovich patted him on the should reassuringly. "We'll take care of you." The doctor kept up a steady stream of chatter while preparing the supplies to draw blood.

After the doctor finished, Derrick and his mom said good-bye and left the busy building. They slowly rode home in silence. In the driveway of their house, Brooke turned to Derrick and said, "Remember, there's a fifty-five percent chance that you don't have it, honey." Derrick didn't reply; he just slowly walked over to where his soccer ball was laying in the grass. He picked it up and walked around the corner of the house into the backyard. Mrs. Chaseton watched him until he disappeared from her view, then walked inside to watch him through the window.

Derrick's father, Paul Chaseton, saw his wife sadly watching Derrick play soccer. He put his arms around her to comfort her. "It's going to be tough." he remarked sadly.

Derrick and a few of his friends sat down at a lunch table and spread out their lunches.

"So, did you see the soccer tournament this weekend?" Mark asked Derrick.

"Nah, I had other stuff to do," Derrick shrugged nonchalantly.

"What could be more important than the tournament!?" exclaimed Mark.

"Well, for one, I had to go to the doctor. Turns out there's a chance that I have AIDS," Derrick's friends and the school already knew that he was HIV-positive.

"Dude. You've got AIDS?" Eddie said sympathetically.

"Maybe," said Derrick. "But keep quiet about it! Do you want the whole school to find out?"

Next to Derrick's table was a table full of girls who just cared about themselves. They gasped at Derrick's words and began to whisper in horror. Unnoticed to Derrick and his friends, they quickly gathered their belongings and moved away from Derrick's table.

Just then the lunch bell rang. "C'mon. Let's go," Derrick said.

In his next class Derrick worked diligently on his paper that was due in a week. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Stacey, the girl who sat next to him, go up to the teacher's desk. Ten minutes later, she hadn't come back. Derrick scanned the room and saw Stacey sharing a chair with one of her friends across the room. He shrugged and went back to work on his paper.

Derrick worked on his paper, totally absorbed, not noticing his surroundings for about half an hour. Then he put down his pencil and stretched back in his chair. Huh? he thought, sitting up. Where is everybody? He slowly looked around at the chairs around him. Everyone had moved to different desks or was sharing a chair with someone else.

The bell rang. Derrick stood up and looked around once more. It's like people are avoiding me, he thought.

It went on like that all day. People avoided him, wouldn't sit next to him or wouldn't touch anything he touched. He was beginning to think that everyone in the school knew he might have AIDS.

As he walked down the hall, he glanced around at the yellow lockers open with people shoving books into them. There were posters on the white walls advertising the next class election.

Down at the end of the hall Derrick saw Cassie at her locker. Cassie has been his friend since second grade when she moved next door, but since lunch she had been avoiding him. Derrick walked up to her.

"Hey Cassie," he said, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. Cassie turned around and saw who it was. She nervously took a few steps back.

"Uh, hi Derrick," she said as she uneasily peeled off her sweatshirt and put in her locker.

"I've got a question," Derrick began, but he didn't get a chance to finish.

"Look Derrick, I've got to go or else I'll be late for class. We can talk later. I promise." She turned and walked quickly away from him.

"Sure whatever," Derrick said sadly. He hoisted his bookbag up on his shoulders and jammed his hands in his pockets. He slowly walked down the empty hallway scuffing his Adidas shoes against the blue and white tiled floor.

Derrick was two minutes late to science. The teacher glared up from his desk, saw it was Derrick and gave a sympathetic smile. Derrick rolled his eyes in disgust and made his way to his desk.

He threw his bookbag on the floor next to the desk he shared with Jarod. Jarod Wieskoph was Derrick's lab partner and they got along well. Jarod was tall, good-looking and always had many girlfriends. He kept Derrick in stitches with his funny stories about them.

"Hey Jarod," Derrick said. "How's the love life today?" he grinned.

"Fine," answered Jarod, not looking up from his lab report. Derrick's grin faded.

"Hey man. What's up? Don't you have any complaints, comments, stories?" Derrick asked, desperate for a friend. Jarod looked up.

"I really have to work on this report. And you should too." Jarod began working again.

"Fine," Derrick snapped sourly.

For the rest of the period Derrick drew on his notebook. Even when the teacher came around and saw Derrick drawing, all he did was pat Derrick on the shoulder and keep going.

After school, Derrick ran to his locker, got his books and hurried outside to where he and Cassie usually met to walk home together. They only lived a few blocks from the school, so it was a short walk.

Derrick waited and waited for Cassie. Then he saw her coming. But instead of walking to meet his, she cut through the parking lot and started across the baseball field. "Cassie!" he cried in disbelief and started to run after her. He dodged the parked cars and caught up to her on the baseball diamond. "What," he panted, "are you doing?"

"Going home," she replied. Derrick sighed a disgusted sigh.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked. She shrugged and kept walking. "Look Cass," he said grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him, "We gotta talk."

"'Bout what?" she asked, looking over his head at the sky.

"Does this have something to do with me maybe having AIDS?" he inquired. Cassie collapsed in the middle of the field as if a big weight had been dropped on her shoulders.

"Oh Derrick," she began. Derrick sat down across from her. "I don't know what to do!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "I'm just like so bewildered!" She laughed, relived to finally talk to him.

"I heard, you know, from Emily, and I was so upset that you didn't tell me yourself."

"Well, I just found out yesterday. But it's like I don't even have control of my own body. It's like the virus is taking control," Derrick sighed.

"I'm so confused. You hear about things like this and you think 'Oh that could never happen to someone I know,' and then it happens to you and the whole world falls apart," Cassie said.

Derrick nodded in agreement. Then he looked her in the eye. "But Cass, you can't get it from touching me or being near me."

"Oh Derrick," she said again, throwing herself at him and hugging him. "I know. I was just so scared," she murmured into his jacket.

They hugged for a few more moments, then began to walk home arm-in-arm. They both stopped between their driveways where they usually parted.

"It all seems so perfect, doesn't it?" Derrick asked, looking at their houses. Cassie looked up at him, smiling sadly. "It sure does," she said.

Derrick sighed. He hated homework. He wrote down an answer. He looked at it and thought. Derrick sighed again and scrubbed the answer away with his eraser.

"Dad!" Derrick called.

"Yes?" answered his dad from the next room.

"Do you understand math?" he asked. Derrick's dad laughed. "I take that as a no," said Derrick.

The phone rang. Derrick's dad walked into the kitchen and looked at Derrick who was sitting at the kitchen table.

The phone jangled again and broke the silence like an intruder into their thoughts.

Paul picked up the phone, not taking his eyes off Derrick.

"Paul Chaseton speaking," he said officially. "Oh hello...yes, I'm fine thank you...okay...yes...oh...okay...I understand," Derrick rolled his eyes impatiently. "All right. Thank you...Bye-bye,"

Paul hung up the phone and sat heavily in the chair next to Derrick. He ran his hands through his sandy blonde hair, then played with the fringe on the placemats.

Derrick's eyes danced nervously over his dad's face trying to read it.

"Well?" Derrick prompted. His dad didn't reply. "Good or bad?" Derrick asked.

Paul slowly looked up at Derrick. "It's good, right Dad? You're just joshin' with me; pulling my leg," Derrick's voice quavered uncertainly. Derrick's dad slowly began to speak in a controlled manner. "Derrick, that was Dr. Cognovich. The lab reports are in." Paul paused trying to think of a way to word what he had to say. "The doctor said that, well, um..." Paul drifted off.

"You don't have to say it Dad. I know. I have AIDS," Derrick put his head down on the table. His hair fell like a curtain around him. Then he slowly pushed himself up and began to walk to his room.

"Derrick," his dad called. "Come back. Let's talk." Derrick ignored him and went into his room. "Brooke!" Derrick heard him calling. "Brooke! Come here! The doctor called!" There was a touch of panic in his voice.

Derrick sat at his desk and started to play his handheld video game. Tears fell onto the screen and blurred his vision.

Derrick woke up a few hours later. He had fallen asleep at his desk, and someone had covered him with a blanket. Derrick rubbed his stiff neck and looked at his watch. Cassie should be getting home from swim practice, he thought.

He drug himself over to his widow, which faced hers. Through their windows, Derrick could see her sitting on her bed towel drying her hair and looking at something. He shoved open his window and shouted through it to her. Her window was open, so she came over to it.

"Hey Derrick," she said.

"Hey," he replied. "What are you looking at?" She held it up for him to see. "It's a picture of us in third grade. We were eight."

"I need to talk to you again. Can you come over? And bring the picture with you," he said.

"Sure," she said. "Be over in a minute."

A few minutes later, Derrick heard the door open and Cassie come in. She greeted his parents and came up to his room. "Hey Derrick. Why are your parents so upset?" She tilted her head to the side. "Have you been crying?"

"That's why I need to talk to you. The test results have come in from my AIDS test." Cassie sat on the bed, braced for the worst. "Well, it turns out that I have AIDS." The words hung between them like a curtain.

Derrick turned and looked out the window into her room. Cassie thought about his words and stared at him.

"Look at this picture," she said, giving it to him.

In the picture eight year old Cassie and Derrick smiled gapped tooth grins. They both leaned on their elbows on Cassie's kitchen table. In front of them, spread out on the table were pictures colored with crayons. Cassie had her brown hair back in pig tails, and Derrick's hair was short and spiky.

"We were so little," Derrick said, "and so innocent..."

"It's my favorite picture of us," Cassie said.

"Can I keep it for a while?" he asked.

"Well," she hesitated. "It is my favorite picture..."

"You all ready said that," Derrick laughed. Cassie hesitated again. Derrick pretended to pout.

"Fine, you big baby," she grinned.

"Thank you!" Derrick sang and instantly cheered up.

"Goof," she said, shaking her head.

Across the way in Cassie's house, her mom walked into her room.

"Cassie!" she called, coming to the window.

"Hi, mom," Cassie said, waving.

"Hello, Mrs. Demastus!" Derrick said.

"Why, hello, Derrick. Could you spare Cassie? I need her for dinner," Cassie's mom said, leaning out the window.

"Sure! Having something good?" Derrick inquired.

"You bet!" she said. "But don't we always?" Derrick laughed in reply.

"See ya, Cass," he said to Cassie who was making her way to the door.

"Bye, Derrick. Thanks for letting me come over."

After Cassie left, Derrick went downstairs.

"Hey mom. Hey dad," Derrick grabbed an apple and hoisted himself up on the kitchen counter.

"Do you want to talk to us, honey?" his mom asked, concerned about his sudden change of mood.

"Nope. The way I see it, I'm no different than before. I had all the thoughts of dying two months ago. Why should I waste time going through that again?"

"Good point," said his dad, nodding.

"Well, just in case, we'll be here for you, hon," said his mom.

"Okay," said Derrick, jumping off the counter and throwing away his apple core. "I'm going to go Rollerblade,"

"Safety gear," said his mom.

"Yeah, I know," Derrick muttered.

Later that evening, Derrick came into the living room where his parents were watching television.

He handed his mom the picture of Cassie and him. "Mom, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure," she said. "What?"

"I'd like you to frame this picture," Derrick said.

"Okay, I'm going shopping tomorrow. You can come with me,"

"Cool," nodded Derrick. "Thanks."

"Mom!" cried Derrick from his room.

"Yes?" she called back.

"Could you bring me some more juice? I drank the juice I had." Derrick collapsed on his pillows, exhausted from the effort of yelling.

"Sure!" Brooke called again. Soon, she walked into Derrick's room and gave him some orange juice.

Derrick had a bad cold, and the doctor suspected that it was developing into pneumonia. Cassie and Jarod had been bringing him his school work, but so far he had been too sick to do it.

"Mom," Derrick whined, "what am I going to do? I'm going to flunk school, and I won't be able to be in the soccer tournament." Derrick pulled his blue down comforter up to his chin and coughed. "I'm cold," he complained.

His mom looked down at him, sympathy written all over her face.

Then Derrick started to cough, a deep rasping cough.

"I'll go get you some cough syrup," said his mom standing up and patting his feet before she left.

When she came back, Derrick had fallen asleep. Brooke leaned against the doorway, with the cough syrup and spoon in her hand. She looked at his peaceful face. Little did she know that soon his body would be wracked with serious illness.

Six days later, Derrick had to be admitted to the hospital with pneumonia.

Brooke and Paul took the elevator up to the sixth floor. They walked down the nicely furnished hallway to room six thirty-six.

They entered and saw Derrick watching television and coughing furiously. Derrick's new doctor, Dr. Welsh, hovered over him looking uncertain.

Dr. Welsh and Derrick looked up at the visitors, and Dr. Welsh came to greet them.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Chaseton," he said. "I'm glad you could come and meet with me." Frank Welsh was in his early forties and was already balding. He wore small glasses and was always nervously shoving them onto his nose. Derrick didn't like him much, because he hovered over him and didn't get much done.

"Hello, Dr. Welsh," Brooke smiled.

"I've called you here because I'd like to try some new drugs on Derrick. One's another antiretroviral, to keep the virus from reproducing. See, the current antiretroviral may cause liver and kidney damage. But, now new antiretrovirals have been approved by the FDA. The two I'm hoping to use are Zerit and Epivir. If it's all right with you three, that is. And I'd like to prescribe something that helps prevent respiratory infections, which Derrick needs right about now. It's called trimethoprim-sulfamethoxazole," finished Dr. Welsh.

"TriSulf for short," Derrick piped up.

"So we'll start him on that, if you approve," Dr. Welsh said to Derrick's parents.

"Sounds good to me," nodded Paul.

"Will the new anti-who-sits have side effects?" asked Brooke worriedly.

"Yes," said Dr. Welsh, "but some people don't feel them and they aren't as bad as Retrovir, the current antiretroviral."

"Okay then," said Derrick's mom. "Sounds good to me too."

"Great!" Dr. Welsh exclaimed. "We'll start with the new prescriptions tonight."

He patted Derrick's arm, said good-bye and left.

"So, how are you holding up, Sparks?" Derrick's dad asked, sitting down on the edge of Derrick's bad.

"As good as I can be, I guess," Derrick said.

"Good," Paul smiled.

"When's Cassie coming?" Derrick asked, looking around.

"She should be here any moment," remarked Brooke, looking around too.

A few minutes later, Cassie stuck her head into Derrick's room.

"Mind if I come in?" she asked shyly.

"Not at all!" Derrick's mom exclaimed.

"What's up, Derrick?" Cassie said as she walked into his room.

"Not much," Derrick replied. Cassie walked over to his bed and handed him a manila envelope with 'Derrick' written on it.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Um, Derrick?" his mom said. "We're going to the cafeteria for some coffee."

"Okay," nodded Derrick. Paul and Brooke left the room and closed the door behind them.

"Well," Cassie said, "these are a whole bunch of cards from people in some of your classes."

Derrick rolled his eyes. "I thought I had some kind of horrible disease that would kill anyone who came within a few feet of me."

"Well, I guess, to them, it's one thing to move away from someone who you heard a bad rumor about, but it's another when that person actually gets sick and is about to-" she stopped and looked up at Derrick. "Oh, Derrick. I didn't mean that you were about to, you know, die," she whispered softly.

Derrick sat up abruptly and looked at Cassie for a few seconds. Then he grabbed the manila envelope and threw it onto the floor.

"Oh yeah," he said, as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed the covers aside. He slowly hoisted himself up.

"Derrick!" Cassie gasped. "You're not supposed to be walking!"

"Hm," said Derrick, yanking his shirt down over his boxers.

Cassie put his arm around her shoulders to support him.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Over there," Derrick pointed to the far corner of the room where a white bag was.

Together they maneuvered around two chairs and a table and finally got to the white bag.

Derrick sat down in one of the chairs and grabbed the bag. He pulled out a square package wrapped with a pink tissue paper and a lime green ribbon. He handed it to her.

"Cool wrapping!" she smiled. "Is this for me?" Derrick nodded.. "You got me something?" she asked in surprise.

"Just open it already!" Derrick exclaimed.

"Okay! Okay!" Cassie ripped the green wrapping to reveal the picture of her and Derrick when they were eight, nicely framed in a black and gold frame.

"Oh, Derrick! This is great! Thank you so much," she exclaimed.

"I was hoping you'd like it," Derrick smiled.

Cassie looked at, carefully studying his face.

"Hey Derrick?" she asked.

"Yes...?"

"I'm glad you're my friend," she smiled. Derrick leaned foreword to hug her.

"Same here," he said. "Now, could you help me back to bed before mom and dad come back?" he asked, glancing towards the door.

"Sure," she said, helping him up.

Cassie and Derrick slowly made their ways back to his hospital bed.

"Whew," said Derrick, laying back against the pillows. "Now I'm tired..."

Cassie shot him an 'I told you so' look.

"I'll go find your parents and say good-bye. And I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Derrick nodded. "See ya, Cass."

A week passed, and Derrick became very ill. One day, Brooke came to visit him, but he was asleep.

"That's right sweetheart; rest. Get better. You'll be out of here in a few weeks," she said, tucking the covers around him.

Cassie continued to visit him over the next few weeks. Twice, his class even took a field trip to visit him, bearing cards and flowers. These visits seemed to leaving Derrick in high spirits. He smiled a lot and gained back the strength to talk and even the strength to take a shower by himself.

Derrick seemed to be improving day by day.

Mrs. Jenkins crossed the room, opened the door and let Mrs. Stevenson in.

"Hello Evenlyn. Come in, please," said Mrs. Jenkins politeyl.

"Hi Carol. Boy, do I have a mouthful to tell you!" Evelyn rushed into the house.

"Now, now," said Carol. "You know tea comes first."

"Of course! How silly of me," said Evelyn.

Carol and Evelyn sat down in Carol's red and white stripped chairs to drink their tea. Carol poured Evelyn some hot spice tea.

"Thank you!" said Evelyn.

"Most certainly," replied Carol. Evelyn casually looked out the window across the street at the Chaseton's house.

"Oh look! Brooke is outside gardening. It's good for her to finally get out. It's such a shame that her son died. He was getting so much better! Then her husband left her. She's just gone downhill ever since then!" said Evelyn.

"Evelyn!" admonished Carol, "I said tea before gossip!"

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