Mark shoved his hands into his black leather jacket. He looked around uneasily as he made his way down the street. The evening sun was beginning to set, the town was settling down to its quiet evening that characterized all evenings in the town of Midway.

Mark made a sharp about-face when he reached a dark alley that was now serving as a meeting place for a group of black-hooded, leather-wearing teens. They began to run after him when they spotted him. He tried to out run them, but they were quicker than he was. They overtook him when he reached a small Chinese restaurant. One of them, tall and muscular, shoved him up against a brick wall. Another, shorter and less stocky, smirked as he walked towards Mark.

"Well, well, well. Why were you trying to run away, Mark? You don't wanna talk to us?" The boy spat out tobacco juice in a thick brown stream less than two inches from Mark's face.

Mark turned his head. "Look, Joey, I don't feel like messin' with y'all tonight. Just let me go and we can talk later."

"Oh, no, Mark. I think that we need to talk right now." Joey turned towards the rest of the boys. "Come on, group. We're heading back to headquarters."

The tall one grabbed Mark by his jacket and lead him towards the others. Mark stumbled and almost fell, but the other one's strong grip on his jacket held him up. He knew where he was going, and he didn't like it. Mark thought that he could finally distance himself from the group in order to have a happy relationship with Meredith, but things change. No one knew that better than Mark himself.

Sharon slowly opened her eyes. Visions of blue-and-white curtains trailing in a breeze floated in and out of sight. Sharon tried to turn her head, but a sharp pain in the neck kept her from it. She tried to talk, but her throat was sand-dry. Tears filled her eyes without her knowing why. Sharon suddenly felt the soft touch of someone taking her hand and rubbing it.

"It's OK, Sharon. Everything's going to be OK," she heard her mother's soothing voice assuring her.

The full knowledge of the situation came rushing back to Sharon. She felt that the tears were going to overflow, but they strangely dried up. Mrs. Redmon brought Sharon a glass of water. Sharon took it in shaky hands and managed to get at least a third of the water down her throat, while the rest dribbled down her cheek and neck. She expected the tears to come, but they wouldn't. "Why can't I cry, Mom? I just want to cry!"

Tears were present in Mrs. Redmon's eyes. "Because you know that the tears won't wipe away reality, sweetie. You know that tears aren't going to cure Will."

"Why? Why won't they?" Sharon cried vehemently. She tried to get up, but the same sharp pain that was prevalent before jabbed her again.

Mrs. Redmon gently hushed Sharon. "Will needs you to be strong for him, Sharon. He needs our strength more than anything else, you know."

Sharon turned away from her mother. She looked out of the open window, glancing at the sun that was going out in golden and violet colors. Pink clouds cloaked the sun like a great prismic robe. How grand and magnificent it looked! Sharon almost hated it.

"I know that you're hurting right now, Sharon. We all are. But crying and beating on walls isn't going to help Will get any better, do you hear me? We have to be there for him, because it's going to be rough on him. That's why we need you to return home, Sharon. Your father and I need you to help keep Will strong, because he's going to need us more now than he's ever needed us in our life. The road to recovery is going to be a long and rocky one, Sharon, but together we can get through it. But only together."

Kim was confused. "What do you mean they'll throw you out? They can't do that!"

Trace took Kim's hand in his. "Yes they can, Kim. They've tried it before. Any excuse that they can find they'll use. I just need you to help me, Kim. I need your help so bad."

"You don't even need to ask," Kim said breathlessly. "I will always be there for you, Trace. We're in this together. Remeber that."

Trace smiled his famous smile that was the charm for all ladies. "You're an angel, Kim. You really are. But do you realize what you're risking? Do you realize all that you're putting on the line? Your happiness, your reputation, your friends, your musical ambitions?"

Yes, she had thought of all that and more. Many nights she had lay awake in her bed, shivering from an unknown coolness that haunted her from time to time. Kim took a deep breath. "Yes, Trace. I've thought of all that and more. I realize that I stand to lose everything that I've ever wanted, but I'm willing to take that chance if it means to keep you from being sent away."

As if by instinct, Trace leaned forward and kissed Kim. Kim, startled, quickly pulled away. But when she saw the look in Trace's eyes, that look that a little boy often gives when he's afraid, she leaned in and gave Trace one of the most passionate kisses he'd ever had before.

"We'll get through this, Trace. But no matter what, we'll get through it together," Kim whispered.

Mark nearly tripped over the front doorstep of the run-down cabin that was the gang's hideout. He had a sudden urge to vomit as the foul smell of sweat and old tobacco juice engulfed him at the entrance.

Joey smiled, revealing two rows of stained brownish-yellow teeth. "Welcome home," he said wryly.

Mark had the most incredible urge to just spit on Joey, but he knew that to do that would be to openly invite the others to remove his teeth. The tall guy shoved Mark into a rickety chair that creaked loudly when Mark landed on it. "Look, what do you guys want?"

Joey stepped right in front of where Mark was sitting. He looked down at Mark. "What we want, Mark, is for you to be there with the rest of us when we face off against the Black Empire. We've waited so long for this, and it's your duty as a part of the group to be there to have our backs, understand?"

Mark shook his head violently. "No, man. I'm not going to go through this again. I have a girl to think about!"

Again Joey smiled. "Yeah, we meant to talk to you about her. It comes down to this, Mark: either you get rid of the girl or we'll get rid of her for you."

Mark would have clobbered Joey on the spot had it not been for the tall guy's strong hands on his shoulders. "You leave Meredith alone!" Mark screamed.

"I thought you'd feel that way. If you don't want to see your girlie hurt, then you'll break things off with her now." Joey refused to let up. He folded his arms across his chest and continued smiling while Mark faced one of the most difficult decisions he'd had to make.

Mark fought internally. One part of him wanted to bite and swear and kick and kill Joey and the rest of the gang, but another part of him knew that the gang would find a way to get back at him, knew that they'd find a way to get Meredith. "Fine, I'll do it. I'll tell Meredith tomorrow that things between us are over."

Sharon nodded her head. "You're right, mother. You're so right. Will does need our support, but please understand that I can't just up and leave my school and my friends now."

Mrs. Redmon looked hurt. "I don't understand."

"Mom, I've been at Midway Prep for six years now. Yes, there have been many times when I just wanted to say 'forget it', pack up, and go back home. But I didn't. Mom, I've made so many friends here, friends that I believe will last a lifetime. I've written to you about Kate, Meredith, and Jessica. They're one of a kind, Mom. And school! I'm in advanced classes, and I'm making some of the best grades I've ever made. I'm a part of the tennis team, and a whole lot of other clubs too. Please don't make me choose between my ambitions and supporting my little brother, because I can do both."

Sharon's mother shook her head. "How can you give Will 24-hour support here, Sharon? How can you be there for him when you're still here with your friends and your school? How Sharon?" Mrs. Redmon's words were loud and powerful.

"I don't know, Mom!" Sharon screamed back. "I don't know! But I'll find a way, Mother!"

"So I need to go back and tell your little brother that his sister is at her school with her friends when he's crying out for you. I thought that I raised you to make better decisions, Sharon. I really did. But if here's where you're happiest, if here's where you feel that you belong, then so be it. I'm not going to make you go. I'm not going to make your body come home while your heart remains here."

Sharon was now openly weeping. "Mom, please..."

"No, Sharon. You made the decision, and that's that. My flight leaves in an hour. I've got to go," Mrs. Redmon got up to leave.

"No, Mom!" Sharon lunged for her mother, but Mrs. Redmon was already out the door.

Sharon fell on the ground, sobbing loudly. Her brother had lukemia, her mother was walking out on her, and her entire world was caving in. Sharon felt alone in a great darkness that wouldn't let her go. She knew that no matter how much she tried to convince herself she'd made the right decision, Sharon felt that she'd regret her decision to her dying day. There sat a crumpled, heaving heap of golden hair and clothes that was Sharon: alone. So, so alone.

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