Liz shut her locker and pulled her book bag over her shoulder. She really wanted to talk to Isabel, but she hadn't seen her all day. Their class schedules were so different that the most contact they usually had at school was an occasional sighting in the hall between classes. She checked the clock. It was Isabel's lunch period, so she would probably be in the courtyard eating. She had gym this hour, so she decided to gamble and go see if Isabel was
available.

       Liz scanned through the different faces in the courtyard, looking for Isabel. She spotted her sitting at a secluded table in the back. She waved, but couldn't get Isabel's attention. Undaunted, she pushed her way through the crowd of students, making her way to the table.

       Isabel had taken to sitting off to the side of the courtyard not long after Alex's death. She had sat there to hide herself away from the prying eyes of the assorted students. She had noticed that people tended to point and whisper less when they didn't notice her. And this was an excellent place to not be noticed.

       The basket of tacos she had gotten lay forgotten in front of her as her mind wandered back to her encounter with Kyle. Why was he interested in her? Had the sheriff asked him to question her, or had he just taken it upon himself to find out about her? Or, could it be possible that he had actually been concerned about her?

       That last thought was almost too far fetched for her. Kyle Valenti had always been the enemy. She didn't know him as anything else. It was just as he had said--his dad made him a danger to hang around. "But what if he really was concerned for me?" she thought. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

       Isabel looked like she was in a trance when Liz reached her table. She stood there for a moment before she spoke. "Hey there."

       Liz's words jarred Isabel from her thoughts. She looked up and smiled wanly. "Hey there Liz."

       "Mind if I join you?" asked Liz.

        "Hmm?" said Isabel distractedly. "Oh...sure. Sit down." She nodded to the empty seat across from her.

        Liz noticed the puffiness around Isabel's eyes as she sat down. "What's wrong Isabel? You look like you've been crying."

        Isabel shifted around uncomfortably in her seat. She picked up the bottle of Tobasco sauce in front of her and unscrewed the lid. "It was nothing," she said as she slathered a generous amount of sauce on her tacos.

        Liz studied Isabel's face intently for a moment. "C'mon Isabel. If you could talk to me last night, then you can talk to me about this."

        Isabel took a bite from her taco and chewed on it thoughtfully. She realized that Liz was staring at her expectantly, and replaced the uneaten portion into the basket. She sipped her drink and then cleared her throat. "Well...it's stupid. I wouldn't want to take up your time with it..."

       Liz gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed Isabel's hand. "You know that nothing is too stupid to tell me about. Especially if it was bad enough to make you cry."

        Isabel got quiet. She looked down and studied Liz's hand as it clasped hers. "Well...I just...well, I got bored in English class. So...I read the poem again...you know...Alex's poem."

        Liz moved to the chair next to Isabel and placed an arm around her shoulders. "Oh," she said quietly. She said nothing more as she sat there and hugged Isabel.

        Isabel sniffled and wiped at the tears that had begun forming in the corners of her eyes. "The bad thing is...Gracie Cohen and Pam Troy saw me crying..." She leaned her head over and rested it against Liz's. A smile played at the corner of her mouth as she spoke again. "I told em off though...Just before I walked out of the classroom..."

       A look of surprise passed over Liz's face as she leaned back from Isabel. "You walked out of the class?" she asked incredulously. "Oh my God."

       A full blown smile broke out on Isabel's face as she sat back. "There were only five or ten minutes left in class anyway." Laughter crept into her voice as she continued. "I blew Mr. Arnold's mind I think."

        Liz laughed and slapped Isabel lightly on the arm. "You are a bad, bad girl."

        "Don't I know it," replied Isabel. She picked up her taco and took another bite. "You want a taco?" she asked, sliding the basket over towards Liz.

       Liz shook her head and pushed the basket back to Isabel. "No thanks," she said. "I can tell from the Tobasco that they would be too spicy for my taste."

       "Oh yeah," said Isabel sheepishly as she noticed the amount of the red liquid that drenched the remaining tacos. "I may have overdone it just a bit."

       "Just slightly," comment Liz wryly. She leaned back against her chair and watched Isabel eat.

       Isabel looked down to check her watch, then looked at Liz. "By the way, shouldn't one of us be in the gym right now?"

        Liz grinned and her face turned a bit red. "You caught me," she admitted. "I am supposed to be on the bleachers, watching the basketball team practice, as we speak."

       Isabel covered her mouth in mock surprise. "What's this? The perfect Liz Parker skipped a class? The world must be ending."

       "Hey!" exclaimed Liz. She feigned anger as she replied. "I'm not that bad..."

       Isabel laughed. "Oh really? I'll bet that I could count the number of classes you've missed on one hand."

       Liz grinned again. "Well...you are probably right."

       "So to what do I owe this great honor?" asked Isabel. "I know you didn't give up your precious basketball watching just to sit through lunch with me....although we both know that I'd be worth it."

       Liz smiled, but she hesitated in replying. She didn't want to ruin the happy mood that had descended upon the two of them. Isabel looked at her expectantly as she sipped her soda. "Well?"

        Liz blew out her breath and shook her head. "I don't wanna bring down the mood...but I kinda wanted to talk to you about last night."

       Isabel's face grew serious and she bit off another piece of taco. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then swallowed. "You know...I don't want to talk about that here," she said carefully.

       Liz shook her head. "I would never...I mean, of course not here. I meant after school. At my house. I mean...I've been thinking about what you said...and I just thought..." She paused a moment and then smiled. "Besides, my mom just made some chocolate cake, and we have plenty of hot sauce."

        Isabel forced a smile and then nodded. "Well, how could I turn down that invitation. Chocolate cake and hot sauce it is." She wadded up her napkin and dropped it into the basket of tacos that she suddenly had no appetite for. "Now is just as good a time as any."

       Liz nodded slowly as she helped Isabel gather the debris on the table. "So you're okay with this?" she asked. "It isn't too soon?"

       Isabel paused. "No, actually it would be easier to talk now, than if we waited for a while." She slung her book bag over her shoulder and stood. "It will probably make me feel better to talk it out some more anyway."

       Liz stood quickly. "Ok then. I guess I will see you after school." She checked her watch again. "It's almost time for my English class anyway."

       "Yeah...You'd better get going. I don't think you could handle skipping two classes in a row, " joked Isabel. "You might go into overload."

       Liz smiled again. "So you are all right now?"

       Isabel nodded. "A-okay," she said soberly. "I gotta go too. I have an appointment with the counselor."

       Liz grimaced. "Good luck with that," she commented. "I'm sure it'll be loads of fun."

       Isabel gave her a wry grin. "Don't I know it?" she replied. "What more could I ask for?"

        They stood in silence for a moment, then Liz leaned in and gave Isabel a quick hug. "I'll see you in a little while," she said softly.

        Isabel hugged her back tightly. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

       Isabel stood outside of the counselor's office for a long time. She didn't really want to go in, but she knew the visit would be inevitable. Her light knock elicited an immediate reply from within. "Come in." Isabel slowly pushed open the door and crept inside. A short, pudgy man sat behind the desk. He stood and extended a hand. "Ms. Evans, I presume." He waited a moment for Isabel to take his hand, then he gestured to a chair. "Please, sit down."

       Isabel slowly lowered herself into the chair and studied the new counselor. He self-consciously swiped the remains of his lunch from his hopelessly rumpled shirt. He pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. He fiddled with his blue and red striped tie nervously as he looked through her file. It was all she could do not to laugh when he pulled too hard on it and the clip popped, dropping it to the desk. The stricken look on his face as he picked it up threatened to send her into a giggling fit.

      "Well, ahem," he said, shoving the tie quickly into his pocket. "My name is Mr. Cunningham." He wiped the sweat from his brow, and rubbed his hand over his balding head. "Now, I've been here for quite a while Ms. Evans, and we haven't yet had an appointment. Now why would that be?"

       Isabel shrugged as she replied. "I really haven't had any reason to come to the counselor."

       Mr. Cunningham raised his eyebrows and studied her for a moment. "Oh? I would have to say that the situation with Alex Whitman would be a perfect reason for you to come and talk to me."

       Isabel looked down to the floor. "Oh...Well, I really don't like to discuss that with anyone," she said. "Especially not strangers..."

       Mr. Cunningham shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "That is just the point Ms. Evans. I shouldn't be a stranger. I should be one of the first people, besides your parents, that you could come to to talk about something as significant as this."

       Isabel studied Mr. Cunningham for a moment before answering. "Mr. Cunningham...I don't....I just don't feel like I'm ready to just start talking about Alex and..." Isabel paused and then looked him in the eye. "I don't want to talk about it."

       Mr. Cunningham waited for a moment. He stood and walked around the desk and sat down on the front of the desk. His ample midsection tested the seams of his shirt as he looked Isabel over. "Fine then," he said. "You don't want to talk, so I will. If I say anything that hits home or makes you wanna talk, then stop me."

       He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "Now, Ms. Evans. I have a bit of experience with this situation, and two things are always the same. One, the surviving person never wants to talk about what happened, and two, that person always blames them self for whatever happened."

       "What I want to tell you Ms. Evans is this...you need to talk about this. Sitting around, stewing in your pain and anger will only serve to make you bitter and sour you on further relationships. It will end up affecting even your most basic relationships; like the one you have with your parents or siblings."

       Mr. Cunningham pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. He turned and picked up her file. "It says here that you have a brother, a Max Evans. Do you talk to him?"

       Isabel looked up from the spot she had been studying on the floor. "Max? No. I haven't talked to him about this...I just don't know if he would understand."

        A frown touched Mr. Cunningham's lips. "Well then...do you talk to your parent? Please tell me you have mentioned this to at least one person..."

       "I can't talk to my parents about this," Isabel answered. "But I have talked to someone about it...Liz Parker."

       Mr. Cunningham chewed thoughtfully on his glasses. "Parker? I have talked to her a couple of times. She seems to be a smart, levelheaded young woman." He sighed and pushed his glasses back onto his nose. "I am glad that someone has broken through this shell you've encased yourself in."

       Isabel smiled. "Liz is great. I feel like I can talk about anything with her. And she never seems to be judging me...just listening."

       "Do you feel like your parents and brother are judging you? Is that why you don't confide your feelings to them?"

       Isabel shook her head. "Oh no...I've never thought that they were judging me...It's just..." She sighed and put her head in her hands. "I'm just afraid that...I don't know...that they will think less of me...that if I tell them I'll somehow change in their eyes...I don't want them to look at me like everyone else does."

       Mr. Cunningham put a hand on Isabel's shoulder. "I don't think that there is anything you could tell your parents that would do that." He smiled reassuringly.

       Isabel looked up at his face. "I know," she said slowly. "But the fear is there...it's what keeps me from telling them...It keeps me from telling them lots of things..." Emotion crept into her voice as she continued. "It would kill me if my mom and dad saw me like the kids at school do...if they whispered back and forth about me...I couldn't handle that."

       Mr. Cunningham pulled a tissue from the box on his desk and offered it to Isabel. She smiled gratefully and dabbed her eyes with it. He gently patted her shoulder. "Would you like me to schedule an appointment with them?" he asked. "If I met with the three of you, I might be able to help alleviate some of the stress that..."

       "No!" Isabel said firmly. "I don't want that at all...I will talk to them eventually, but I have to find my own time."

       "All right Ms. Evans...you can have it your way for now. But if there are any more incident's like your walking out of Mr. Arnold's class, then I will be forced to contact them. With or without your participation."

        Isabel nodded. "I understand." She looked at her watch. Fifth period was almost over. "Umm...can I go now? I don't want to be late for my history class. Mrs. Taylor is very strict about punctuality."

       "Well now...I'm sure she would understand if you chose to stay and talk. In fact, I would make certain of it."
 Isabel shifted uncomfortably and shook her head. "No, I think I am finished talking for now." She gathered up her bag and stood. "So, can I go."

       Mr. Cunningham sighed and waved his hand at the door. "I see no point in keeping you here when you obviously would be anywhere else." Isabel turned and grabbed the doorknob. "Just one more thing Ms. Evans."
 Isabel sighed and turned to face him again. "Stop blaming yourself for what happened, Ms. Evans. There was no way you could have known Alex had a heart condition. No one did." He looked at her over the rim of his glasses. "Once you conquer your guilt, then it will become easier to open up to people."

       Anger filled Isabel as she left the counselor's office. She shut the door a little harder than was necessary, causing the glass to rattle loudly. She couldn't believe that he had told her to stop blaming herself. How could she do that when she was to blame?

       Max checked his watch again as he waited on Isabel to come out of the school. Where was she? The rest of the students had long since left the school grounds, leaving Max alone in the parking lot. He checked his watch again. She was ten minutes late. "Maybe she walked," he thought. "It was kind of awkward this morning."

       Isabel had decided to walk to Liz's house after school, but after the visit to the counselor, she had decided that she needed to talk to Liz sooner. As soon as school was let out she had gone in search of her, but it was fruitless...Liz was nowhere to be found. She checked all over the school, but it was apparent that Liz had already gone...

      Isabel sighed and began to walk outside. "I guess I'll have to get Max to drive me over," she thought as she pushed open the doors. She walked out into the parking lot and spied Max sitting alone in his jeep. She noticed that all the other cars were gone from the parking lot and looked down to check her watch.

      She couldn't believe that her search for Liz had taken so long. Now Max would be really mad. Isabel considered telling Max to go ahead and leave, but she quickly discarded the idea. He would be even more pissed off if he had waited for nothing. She took a deep breath and walked quickly up to the jeep.

       "Hi Max," she said in a small voice. "Sorry I took so long."

       Max looked up from the radio. "Huh? Oh...that's okay Isabel. I don't mind."

       Isabel got into the jeep and put on her seat belt. She was silent as Max started it up and pulled out of the parking lot. "Umm...could you take me by Liz's house?" She asked timidly. "She invited me over today at lunch."

       Max was silent a moment and then turned to Isabel. "Sure. No problem." He turned down the road that led to Liz's house. He stared at the road and then looked at Isabel. His voice was bitter when he spoke. "Going for a little girl talk? Gonna discuss some more stuff that I'm not ready to hear?"

       An exasperated sigh escaped Isabel's lips. "Why do you have to be like this?" She asked. "It's not like you tell me every single detail of your life. I mean, when you and Liz got together, I didn't know about it until your were getting ready for your first date."

       Max glanced at her. "Yeah, but when you asked me about it, I told you. There was no hesitation. In fact, I have told you about everything that has happened to me. I never held anything back."

       Isabel sighed and slumped down in her seat. "That is the difference in us Max. I don't confide that easily...at least not anymore." She tentatively reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder. "I know that I used to be able to tell you anything, but...things have just changed. I'm sorry."

       Max was silent as he pulled up in front of Liz's house. He put the jeep in park and turned to Isabel. There were tears in his eyes as he spoke. "It's just hard, Iz," he said. "I am so used to being the one you come to when you need to talk...it is just...I don't know...I didn't think that there would ever be anything that happened to you that you couldn't share with me...I thought you trusted me more than that.."

       Isabel was taken aback by the pain in Max's voice. "Max...I trust you more than anyone else I know. Don't ever think that I don't..." Her voice trembled slightly. "And I know that the fact I talked to Liz first hurt you...But I never meant for it to...I would never do that. That is the last thing I would ever want to do."

       Max nodded and sniffled. Emotion threatened to overcome his voice as he spoke. "I know that...It's just so hard...I see you there hurting, and you won't let me in. All I want in the world is to come and ease your pain, and you won't let me."

       Tears welled in Isabel's eyes and she pulled Max to her, hugging him fiercely. He clung to her as sobs rocked his body. She just sat there, holding him. After a few moments, he released his hold on her and sat back. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and cleared his throat. He turned to her and smiled sadly. "Well," he said softly. "Do you need me to come and pick you up later?"

       Isabel shook her head. "No, I'll just get Mr. Parker to take me home..."

       Max nodded. "Okay then." He smoothed his shirt out and then turned to her. "I guess I'll see you later then..."
       "Yeah," Isabel replied softly. "I'll see you in a little while..." She unbuckled her seat belt and slowly stepped out onto the curb. "I'll talk to you when I get home."

       "Okay," Max said, his voice still husky. He started up the jeep and put it into gear. "Oh, and Isabel. I'll be ready to listen whenever you are ready to talk."

       Isabel smiled at him. "Thanks for understanding Max..." She watched as he pulled away from the curb and started down the street. "And thanks for caring so much," she whispered.