Archive of Our Own

Cody was a sixteen-year-old boy who recently finished his sophomore year at Upper Crust College, a private school for rich assholes picking on the unlucky bunch of nerds, outcasts, and weirdos. The strangest thing, though, was that they all had money, so the bullying couldn't include stealing a kid’s pocket money or paying them in order to keep their mouth shut. It would just be spitballs, wet-willies, wedgies, pantsing, and every other bullying method those wretched kids could think of to pass the time at school because the stricter the rules, the meaner the kids.

Cody, unfortunately, fell victim to those kids. Every weekend didn't feel like enough time to heal, to forget he was in pain both physically and emotionally. But each time summer came, he’d become bored. He had no friends to hang out with since they were all either abroad or with other people, so Cody would sit in his room all day and night, waiting for something to happen. But not until he signed up for a reality TV show where he’d meet 21 other campers that were totally different, except for all of them being 16 years of age. Maybe he’d make some friends, maybe even make a few girls fall in love with him.

With a month’s worth of clothes and other necessities in his luggage, Cody stepped on the Camp Wawanakwa’s docks, which was the summer camp he’d perform ridiculously difficult challenges for the cash grab of $100,000. Cody was fairly wealthy, but he needed a change of scenery from his bland private school Upper Crust College, his bland mansion-of-sorts, and his bland parents, who couldn’t care less about their child staying weeks away at a remote location.

After the first killing dawned upon them, and Chris and his crew fled leaving the 22 campers to rot with a serial killer, Cody wished they cared.

The first camper to meet his fate, Ezekiel Miller, was a homeschool that lived in the middle of a Canadian prairie. With the brief interactions he had with him, he was, odd? His obliviousness made sense after learning he was homeschooled by his cracked prairie parents, but Cody still felt extreme guilt for the kid having the least amount of social interaction and dying first.

Slowly, one by one, their numbers were shrinking. Lindsay Top, a blonde girl with pretty, crystal-blue eyes, got one cut out of her skull with her plump, peach lips sewn shut. Sadie Unda was mauled by wolves and oodles of wildflowers grew in her remains. Cody was heartbroken to see her best friend Katie break down in tears after explaining what had happened— Cody couldn’t relate due to a lack of a real friend, but he knew she felt as dead as Sadie did, just mentally and spiritually.

Cody had found what he had hoped for, at least. There was a stunning goth girl named Gwen Ingrid, with pitch-black Demonias and a short, teal-dyed bob curling at her sharp jawline. Cody practically drooled at the sight of her, but it was clear she was anything but interested in him. But besides Gwen, Cody was stoked to see another guy at camp named Trent Cooper. He was practically the best guitarist Cody had ever laid his eyes on, and his lyrics were spectacular. Before the first killing, the teens sat around a campfire and sang summer songs unfamiliar to Cody, but he still teetered his head side to side to be included.

Out of all the people he met on the island, Gwen and Trent were his personal favorites. But there was one more teen, and his name was Noah Sterecra.

Noah didn’t talk much when teens gathered around to discuss their next move for food or hygiene, but he always managed to bark back a comment whenever someone like Heather or Duncan made fun of a victim. He was snarky, sarcastic, and blunt, but he had a heart. Cody always seemed to form a smile when he saw Noah, whether his nose was tucked into a book— which Cody was unfamiliar with— or talking with possibly the most recognizable person there named Owen Waterflower. Despite Noah’s lack of replies to people and lack of reaction in general, he was always cracking up when talking with Owen, even under their circumstances on the killer island. The two giggling and laughing gave Cody hope; hope that he’d get out of the island safely to experience a friendship like that. Sure, he was buddy-buddy with Trent, but the killer was more important than their friendship.

Gradually, Cody started to gravitate more towards Noah than Gwen. He paid more attention to the way he’d cross his legs if he was shivering, or the way his forehead wrinkles would lessen if he closed his eyes to calm his thoughts, Cody assumed. Cody sat closer to him when the boys were in the Gopher cabin passing time, and when it was time to eat, Cody slowly made his way over to Noah, one day ending up beside him.

“What’s The Great Gatsby?” Cody asked with a spoonful of brown slop in his mouth. DJ was said to be a great cook, but the slop was distasteful— he couldn’t even imagine the taste of Chef’s cooking due to DJ’s already being bad enough.

“A book,” Noah quipped, eating the last of his bowl with a disgusted frown as he chewed.

“Wow. Couldn’t tell,” Cody said with a roll of his eyes.

“If you couldn’t tell then you should probably pick one up sometime.” Cody glared at Noah, who seemed to be unfazed as he read more lines in his book. Cody’s gaze softened as he continued to look at the boy and his tunnel-vision, black coffee irises staring deep into his book, which was close to complete. Cody looked at an almost unnoticeable mole on the side of his nose bridge; no one would be able to tell unless one laser-focused as intently as Cody did. He refrained himself from looking down at his rosewood lips, which was surprisingly one of the few times he managed to do so.

Cody thought he was a bona-fide woman lover. He still adores women, like he couldn’t ever, but Noah was somehow an exception. Perhaps it was his shoulder-length locks getting a tad longer by the day, or the way his hands grasped his novel so tightly in fear of it being taken. Cody sometimes wondered if his hand was ever so firm when holding someone’s, and if his tunnel-vision eyes stared into someone’s with such passion. And it didn’t take Cody long enough before he realized he’d replace said ‘someone’ with himself in his daydreams as he observed him.

Day 14, and Beth Yentsten was unfortunately taken by the Man. He removed her braces after bashing her head against a boulder, and Courtney was the first to witness her bleeding skull and chipped teeth. Cody had little conversation with her, but he knew she was a wonderful person. Witnessing all of these deaths of wonderful people left Cody awake at night, pondering what any of them did to deserve this as the sound of Trent’s low strumming of his acoustic guitar would finally lull him into a deep sleep.

Cody awoke in the middle of the night the following day. He blinked away and rubbed the gunk in his eyes, sitting up to look around. Every guy was in their beds asleep except for Noah, who leaned against the wall his bunk curled next to and propped a book onto his folded thighs. Noah looked up to Cody and flashed a mini flashlight at him.

“Quit staring,” he hissed, and returned to reading his book. Cody grumbled as he laid back down to fall back asleep, but he then grew worried about Noah.

The book nerd was always first to fall asleep, and he was also one of the first to awaken. But if he was awake at that moment, then was he really getting the sleep he needed? Cody looked out the cabin window and saw the moon resting on the lake waters— he couldn’t tell the time just by that, but he took an uneducated guess and said midnight.

Cody ceded into his worries and stood from his firm and springy mattress to sit onto Noah’s, who almost unnoticeably leaned away.

“Are you getting enough sleep?”

“No. But it’s surprising how these guys can fall asleep and stay asleep. I always open my book when I wake up, and reading helps me fall back asleep,” Noah whispered back, glancing at Cody’s chestnut-colored bedhead before looking down at the pages of his book with his keychain flashlight. Cody stared at Noah’s tired eyes drooping continuously at an attempt to stay awake.

“You should try sleeping either way,” Cody placed a hand on Noah’s book, feeling its crisp edges and rough texture for the first and probably only time. Noah’s eyes widened but he hadn’t backed away nor snatched the book out of Cody’s fingertips.

He sighed and shut his book, placing it under his pillowcase. He tapped the space beside him, and Cody crawled to sit next to him, closely, for the first time, as well.

“How do you and Owen manage to laugh so hard?” Noah eyed him in confusion. “There’s a literal serial killer on the loose and yet you guys can just forget about him and laugh about, uh—“

“Feeding each other to the wolves if we leave each other behind in the bathrooms?” Cody nodded, and Noah softly chuckled, cautious to not wake the teens as they slumber. “Well, Owen was my first friend. And I was his, too. We get a little carried away, I guess,” Noah shrugged after whispering. Cody paused as he stared at the smile on his lips, the kind he’d always have with Owen.

“Can I be your second?” Cody softly asked with a stutter. Noah stared at him with raised eyebrows before curling his lips into a small smile and nodding.

“Sure. I’m honored to be your friend, Codemeister.” Cody rolled his eyes at the nickname; the only one cruel enough to use his cringey nickname was, of course, Chris McLean himself, but Cody knew Noah was just messing with him.

Cody’s friend count grew from one, to two. Noah still chatted with Owen as much as humanly possible, but he still snuck in some time to have one on one conversations with Cody, and Cody was grateful for him. Cody had more chances to watch Noah’s eyes become hazel in the sunset, and to listen to his deep, monotonous voice close rather than far away as he giggled with Owen. Because now, he was getting Noah to laugh and smile and say stuff he probably would never say, like how he has a whole wall full of books and that he likes Slowdive and Radiohead and other bands Cody shared interest with. They were compatible, Cody was sure of.

As Noah one day sat on the cabin steps, nearing the end of his book, Cody sat down next to him and peered over his shoulder to see what he was reading. Well, see what he was reading at the best of his ability; the words were so clumped up together and the font was incredibly small that Cody ultimately gave up. Noah chuckled after hearing Cody groan and lean back against the Gopher porch.

“What, too grown up for you?” Noah teased as he elbowed Cody in his shoulder.

“No, it’s too ‘grandpa’ for me,” Cody replied with quotation fingers. “How do you just read this stuff so casually?” Noah shrugged as he shut his book and placed it on the opposite side of Cody.

“Dunno. I’ve always been ahead in school.”

“What kinda school do you go to?” Cody asked as he fidgeted with his right shoelace, which was soggy from stepping in mud earlier.

“Pahkitew High. In Edmonton.” Cody squinted his eyes as he calculated the distance from his private school.

“That’s gotta be at least four hours away from Upper Crust,” he sighed, setting down his hand from scratching his chin as he thought. Cody raised his eyebrow as Noah took hold of his shoulders.

“You go to Upper Crust College?” Noah asked, almost commanding Cody to answer. Cody eagerly nodded in fear of what Noah would say. “Wow,” Noah breathed out, “that’s my dream school. I’ve been trying to convince my parents that my grades are good enough, but,” he sighed. Noah let go of Cody’s shoulders. “How are you even attending that school?”

“My parents are rich. Easy,” Cody replied with a smug smirk. A glare on Noah’s face told Cody to let go of his crossed arms and take back his grin.

“Lucky you,” Noah sighed, leaning on his hand. Cody pouted at Noah and glanced at Courtney and Gwen talking on the Bass cabin steps. The goth spun through pages of what looked like her sketchbook, and stars seemed to sparkle in the violinist’s eyes and grin.

“Hey,” Cody mumbled after a while of staring, “I’d switch places with you if I could. More rules in the school means more rule-breaking, anyway.” Cody shrugged as he tried his best to cheer up the boy next to him.

“Bold of you to want to go to Pahkitew. The place almost burnt down on the last day because some kids decided to smoke in the library.” Cody’s jaw unhinged.

“What?” He stated blankly, unable to say anything else. Noah stifled a laugh through a wide grin.

“See? I think you’re fine with the Condors,” Cody chuckled, causing Noah to do so, as well.

“Still, though,” Cody sighed as he calmed down, “It’s hard to make friends at a private school. Everyone’s either too smart or too much of a rich asshole.”

“But you’re a rich asshole,” Noah quipped. Cody playfully shoved Noah aside.

“Not the asshole part, stupid!” Cody barked. Noah coughed out a laugh through his hand, hiding a crooked tooth in the back of his lower row of teeth. Cody’s throat tingled as he kept staring, feeling like a statue, unable to move. Noah noticed him staring after a while.

“Hey, wake up.” Noah waved a hand in front of Cody, causing him to blink out of his trance.

“Oh, sorry,” Cody mumbled as he crossed his arms.

“You good?” Noah held Cody’s shoulder as he watched his lips curl into a frown. He was alright, but he didn’t know why there was a frown on his face.

“If we do survive,” Cody choked out, “will we be able to see each other again? We live four hours away, after all…” Cody mumbled as a guess as to why he was so melancholic. Noah was bare of any response, overthinking Cody’s words in his mind while staring down at the pale boy.

“Sure. Only if we do, though.” Cody nodded as a sign he was listening, but the pout on his face remained. Noah’s throat clogged up as he tried his best to cheer him up. “Hey, what’s up?” Cody faced him with a pout, bringing the puppy-eyes he perfected over the years to beg for sympathy.

“That’s not enough. I wanna see you again.” He whined. Noah sighed and ruffled the top of his head with a sad grin.

“Huh. A kicked puppy, to a T.” Noah chuckled as Cody’s pout remained. The pale boy felt his stomach flutter as Noah’s hand slid down to the back of his neck. “Promise we get out alive. Together.” Cody stared back-and-forth at Noah’s dark eyes holding tiny glimpses of sunlight before turning his frown upside down.

“Yeah. Let’s get out alive.”

His death was like a wave crashing against a rocky shore, the harsh thunder after lightning. Rain pellets were like bullets, falling onto Cody’s head like glass marbles as he stood at the lakeshore where he was, shoulder bleeding from a stab wound and sweater vest soaking wet from the rain. Prior to spotting his cold body at the lakeshore, he was awake. He was moving, he was breathing, and he was arguing with Duncan. He didn’t even know why Duncan became a leader with his lousy sense of direction, but he did, and that angered him to the point of no return, in a literal sense, as he stormed away in the direction he knew the camp was, hoping to shelter himself and possible followers from the not-as-harsh rain.

Who knew if he was right or not? Duncan did have a bad sense of direction, and it took nearly an hour to find camp. But when they returned, bags of food in each of their pouches, Noah was nowhere to be seen. No one had dared to defy Duncan by tailing Noah because of his time at juvie, so Noah was alone, wherever he was.

Everyone blamed Duncan for arguing with him, with some even complaining Noah was right about where to go. But if he was, then where was he? They’d checked in the cabins numerous times, even in the confessional and communal bathrooms, excluding the mess hall and arts and crafts cabin after closing them off. The teens grew worried by every passing second they waited, hoping to see him miraculously emerge from the woods okay, or somehow stepping by the group with his book, picking another fight with Duncan to say he was right about where to go, but he didn’t. No one came, not even the killer.

Duncan, clearly distressed with worry, ran off to find him. No one joined him in his search, too scared to go out there, especially with the foggy rain. No one except for Cody, who was constantly asking everyone if they knew where he was, if they so happened to see him. He ran off with Duncan, but after what felt like hours of searching the woods of which they emerged from, Cody came back fruitless. Duncan wanted to be the hero that day and find Noah, telling Cody that Noah would come back unscathed to fulfill Cody’s undying wish for him to be okay. So Cody returned, tail in between his legs as he walked back to the Gopher cabin with water droplets painting his pale face and shimmering his auburn locks.

He hoped to God Noah was alive. He never cared in the slightest about religion, but he prayed and prayed to a God he wasn’t sure existed. He prayed Duncan would return with Noah, prayed that Noah would be okay to keep surviving, to survive long enough to where he could return back home and go to that public school in Edmonton. He hoped he’d finish the book he was reading, the book his eyes were always focused on if they weren’t judging a survivor, the book he’d bring everywhere as if it were more important than his own life.

The teens inside the cabin sat silent, all reading each other’s faces with awkward glances with the sole thought of Noah hopefully returning safely. Even Heather, who he had some sort of rivalry with, was silent, hands tucked in her lap as she shared a blanket with Katie, whose eyes were blankly staring at her hands empty of Sadie’s, which she always used to hold when they were scared. Cody never really grieved for that long at the previous deaths, but something about Sadie’s death… stuck with him. It was as if Katie herself was dead as well, like she had no choice but to lose herself completely after losing her best friend, the other half of her friendship necklace, and simply, her other half.

After seemingly hours and hours of heavy rain and thunder, the survivors heard the ground sloshing in the distance, alarming them and causing Eva to grab her bat and watch the approaching figure through the window.

“It’s Duncan,” she says, eyes fixated on him. Everyone leaned forward or towards the window, trying to catch a glimpse if Noah was with him since Eva hadn’t said anything after. Cody, however, exited the bottom bunk in which he sat next to Trent on and stepped over the legs of many, gravitating towards the window with a toothy grin expecting Noah to come running with him with his book, wet and torn, clutched to his chest to try and keep it safe. He expected to see the rain wash him completely of his fluffed hair, to see it damp and sticking to his face and neck as he ran, jeans heavy with water and shoes full of sludgy mud. But when Duncan opened the door, it was just Duncan. A panting, wide-eyed, trembling Duncan.

It was a shock to see him to full of fear. Usually, if he was scared, he’d play off his emotions by yelling at others, or for instance, at Noah that unfortunate night.

With a trembling lip, he whispered the quietest sentence the teens would ever hear him speak in his entire life. “Noah is dead.”

At first, it didn’t hit Cody. He considered laughing at his joke and running out to see Noah stifling a laugh, but he couldn’t. Because he was really dead.

For what felt like the first time he’d done so, Cody approached Duncan and took him by his shirt collar. His eyes held a cold glare, one which even someone over half a foot taller than him such as Duncan found terrifying.

His aquamarine eyes shook as he spoke. “Where is he?” Duncan didn’t answer. Cody looked back and forth between his soul-shaken, piercing blue eyes full of guilt and terror, and asked again.

“Where the hell is he, Duncan?!” His voice raised. Duncan still hadn’t answered, still in shock at what he saw. By that time, Cody was already in tears, sniffling back a sob as best as he could. “Tell me, you fucking jerk; where did you find him?!” The teens didn’t speak upon his volume, too let down by Duncan’s news and scared of Cody’s sudden rage. No one had really noticed he was friends with Noah, so to see him so shaken with anger was a surprise, even to Owen, who still knew but didn’t realize how much anger could control someone.

“B-by the lake,” Duncan finally answered. “There was a rope sticking out from the shore so-so I pulled it and, and I saw him. The rope was around his neck, and there-there was a knife sticking out of his chest.” Cody slowly let go of his shirt collar as he took it in. He was actually dead. Noah was bleeding out dead at the lake on a cloudy, rainy day, not even granted the mercy of dying on a summery morning with a cool breeze, or perhaps a loving sunset in which he could see the golden sun in his last moments. Noah was dead, and as Cody ran every detail through his head, he pointed his finger at Duncan.

His eyebrows curls in rage as he roared, startling the teens as he took Duncan by the collar once more and shoved him out of the cabin. They tripped down the steps as Cody tossed his fists towards him. Geoff and DJ took him by his shoulders to try and restrain him, giving Duncan just enough time to try and back away from Cody, but he slipped from their grasp and ran towards Duncan, pushing him onto the ground with a forceful punch that vibrated his entire arm into shock. They both fell onto the muddy grass, rain pattering onto their limp bodies as Duncan sat up with a bloody nose and Cody bloody knuckles. As Cody got up, feet so weak he fell to his knees and crawled, he threw his arm back to hit him again, but Duncan looked back at him, blood spilling out his guilty conscience as he gave him the most heartbreaking stare Cody would ever see. Under all of his piercings, juvie scars, melting neon mohawk and bloody nose, he stared at him with guilty eyes begging for forgiveness, he felt it in every fiber of his being.

Cody brought his fist to his side and stared back. Duncan’s lip trembled as if he held back a sob, and that made Cody realize he wasn’t a man fresh from jail for committing multiple homicides, but a kid who so happened to land himself into juvie. Duncan was just a sixteen-year-old who had never experienced the blame for murdering someone; he was just a kid.

He glanced back at the others, who all stared from the steps on the dock in fear. No matter how much they understood Cody was upset about Noah’s death, they still feared him. Cody picked himself up and ran; he ran and ran until he found himself at the shore, the lake a blink away. And when Cody arrived, he was hit with the final blow.

He rushed over to the shore with the rope and stared down at the bleeding teen. His eyes filled with tears as he felt his insides finally sink, anger finally blinded by sadness. He was so focused on blaming Duncan for murdering Noah, but it wasn’t him. Noah was just so unfortunate to be caught by him that unfateful night and get strangled, stabbed, and tossed into the lake. Before Cody had seen him, he constantly thought that Duncan should’ve been the one to experience the grotesque torture, that he should’ve died in Noah’s place, but no. Not even Duncan deserved to feel this pain.

Cody fell to his knees as he stared down at him, eyes beginning to water like the blood spilling out of his chest. He sat him up and shook him by the shoulders, hoping he’d wake up despite the noose around his neck and knife in his chest.

Cody remembered his unwavering gaze that remained on his book, eyebrows slightly furrowed to show he was fully invested in what he read. He always wished he would gaze at him with his sincerity, but as he cradled him in his lap as the rain pelleted down on them, eyes searching for any life in his insensate eyes, it was stupid wishful thinking. It was wishful thinking when he thought Gwen let alone any of the girls would be interested in him, when he thought anyone would care enough to befriend him. And now, wishful thinking when he thought he’d make it out alive with Noah.

Cody couldn't care less about how loud he was. He shouted for Noah to wake up, to blink, to breathe, anything. His tears thickened like the strength of the storm, thunderbolts crashing down upon them as if the rain was devastated as well. If the killer found him, so be it; he could at least die with Noah in his arms.

Why Noah? he thought, why him? He was flawed and cold and self-centered at times but Cody couldn't care less about them. He cared about the way Noah cared about him, the way he’d talk to him even if he looked busy with Owen or the way he’d shut his book fully when he tried talking to him. He cared about the way he’d smile, and laugh, and do anything else to show he was listening, like Cody was just as interesting as his book which he desperately wanted to replace. But none of it mattered anymore. Noah could no longer blink and observe and read, whether it be a page in his novel or the freckles on Cody’s pale face.

He was now cold, in a literal sense, with the life choked, stabbed, and drowned out of him. Noah Sterecra, upcoming-junior at Pahkitew High School, youngest of nine children, and Cody’s summer love was dead.

Cody knew it wasn't anyone’s fault. It wasn't Noah’s fault when he ran off to find the cabins himself, not Duncan’s when all he did was encourage him to die. Perhaps it wasn't even the killer’s; they were on his land, after all. But Cody also knew Chris McLean didn't fit into anyone. He was a cruel subhuman that only cared about his safety and fame. So what if twenty two teenagers– Noah– died because of him? What mattered was that he was safe and away from whoever-the-hell killed Ezekiel.

Cody could've spent all night mourning, screaming, shouting, pleading– anything to try and bring Noah back, but the rest found him and dragged him back into the cabin, fearing Noah wouldn't be the only one dead that night. As Eva and Duncan held his arms to try and drag him away, Cody struggled to get out of their grasp, hoping to hold him, even kiss him just once more.

He gave Noah a tight embrace, face wet with heavy rain and tears, before Eva and Duncan peeled him from the bleeding boy and away from the lakeshore. At first, Cody struggled, screaming for them to let him go so he could stay with Noah just a little longer. When they reached campgrounds, he quieted to a sob, head hung low as he looked at his own hands covered in Noah’s blood.

The cabin was silent for the rest of the night, broken by Cody’s sniffles as he choked on his own breath. Everyone knew well enough to leave him alone, even if they didn’t know why he acted how he did. Owen had patted his shoulder and comforted him, but he was quick to fall asleep that night, saving some of his sanity for himself.

Before they split in two groups— one to sleep and the other to look out for the killer— Katie sat next to him and hugged her arm over his shoulders. He sobbed into her chest as she embraced him fully, feeling tears of her own stream down her face.

“I don’t know who Noah is to you, but I think I know what you’re going through. And I’m sorry you have to feel this way.” She gave him a bittersweet smile, wiping her own tears with her chipped nails. Cody went back to sobbing in her arms, unable to respond to her. He would’ve thanked her for what she said, even smile back, but he knew she understood well enough why he was crying while the others weren’t, why Owen was only void of emotion while Cody was pouring his heart out.

Before he fell asleep, many moments flashed through Cody’s head, but nothing had hit him as hard as the last moment he had with him before he died.

Cody exited the cabin along with the others. The teens were split into two groups for shifts between showering and lookout, and Cody was a part of the latter. While most of the survivors stood close to the communal bathrooms, ready to alert the teens if the killer were to come, Cody stood by the cabin, patiently waiting on the steps with blurry eyes.

“Still tired?” he heard from above. Cody turned to see Noah approaching him with his novel like usual. He sat beside him on the steps, closer than he usually did.

Cody caught on quickly that Noah would sit a body away from Owen and himself, perhaps to get up quickly if the Man ever were to come. But no; he was just uncomfortable. And while Noah had gotten a little more used to Owen, sitting half-a-body next to him now, he sat beside Cody to where their shoulders pressed each other. Cody’s heart didn’t flutter at the fact that he was sitting so closely, but that he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable.

“A bit, yeah,” Cody said while dragging his hand across his face, making his eyes foggier than before. Noah gave him a dry chuckle and faced the communal bathrooms, novel sitting on the opposite end.

“Do you think we’ll actually ever get out of here?” Cody blinked at Noah as he faced him, face too monotone for his question.

“Chris couldn’t be that evil, right?” Noah blew out a thoughtful sigh.

“I mean, he did ditch all of us on this island. Let’s hope he has a change of heart before anyone else dies.” Cody nodded with a soft smile, gaze averting to the muddy grass near the last cabin porch step. Noah noticed how quiet he was, which caused him to hold his shoulder to catch his attention.

“You seem distant, Cody. What’s up?” Cody faced him, tears beginning to bubble in his eyes. He opened his mouth, willing to tell him that he can’t bear to see him dead or vise versa and that he’s afraid that even if he did get out alive, he could die of heartbreak but, like he usually did, he swallowed back his words and exhaled a shaky breath.

“I’m just,” he said, breaking eye contact to aimlessly observe the grass again, “tired.” He could tell Noah wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push him, removing his hand from his shoulder but still sitting close. Cody looked down at his prickly hands and tightly clasped them into each other, holding them firmly like the urge to confess the fear he felt of having to leave Noah behind, or worse, Noah having to leave him.

“… Can I tell you something?” Noah asked after a moment of quietude. Cody nodded his head in curiosity, turning his entire body towards him to show his investment. Noah looked into his eyes, fearing that breaking character by speaking about his feelings would weird Cody but, patiently, he waited, prismarine eyes eager to hear him out.

Noah blew out a sigh, letting out all of his stress. He gazed at Cody sincerely, telling the pale teen he was serious.

“I don’t wanna leave you.”

Cody looked him into his dark hickory eyes full of sincerity. Like the stars aligned, like the sun and moon met to form an eclipse, like Earth had met perfect equilibrium, Cody learned Noah felt the exact same way. He wanted nothing more than to get out alive with him but too afraid to admit it to his face. He wanted nothing more than for the both of them to meet again outside of the island where it was safe and calm and void of a notorious serial killer, or at least, one to their knowledge.

He wanted nothing more than him.

And just like that, Cody unpacked all of his repressed feelings by holding Noah by his neck and pulling him forward, lips finally meeting for what felt like a century on this godforsaken island. Cody shut his eyes tight, imagining Noah’s shocked face slowly become light as his blaring eyes fluttered shut.

Like a tsunami wave crashing over a village, Cody realized every little thing wrong with what he did. He removed himself completely off of Noah almost immediately, even backing away as far as he could on the porch steps while constantly glancing at the other teens on lookout at the bathrooms. His heart raced as he shut his eyes tight, resisting the urge to speak or shout or walk away.

He’d done countless embarrassing things throughout his sixteen years on Earth, but this? Every stupid thing he’d ever done combined couldn’t amount to the frustration and embarrassment he felt after non-consensually kissing the only person he’s managed to attract in his life.

“Sorry, I’m—“

“—Tired,” Noah finished. “You’re tired.” Cody couldn’t bear to face him, but he could hear him out of breath despite only being kissed by a guy. Non-consensually. Without his own accord.

Cody glanced at Noah, who seemed more than alright with what Cody had done. “Why aren’t you, you know,” He stuttered, gaining Noah's attention, "reacting? You aren’t even mad or anything—“

“—Please, keeping calm about this is possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” interrupted Noah. Cody’s dilated eyes softened as he finally saw the nervousness in his flushed face. His hands shook in his lap, which Cody scooted closer to and took one in his. They were shoulder-to-shoulder once more, breaths hitching as Cody intertwined his fingers with Noah’s.

Cody glanced from the other teens at the bathrooms to Noah, who held doubt in his dark-roast irises. “I don’t wanna leave you, either, Noah. I…” Cody paused, biting his lip as he doubted what he should say. Noah patiently waited for Cody to finish his sentence, intentful eyes eyeing him with the sincerity he’s always wanted.

“What are you two doing?” they heard from above. Cody immediately removed himself completely from Noah, inching away from him on the cabin step as Noah did the same.

“What?” Cody managed to spit out, face hot with color.

“Whatever,” said the teen with a towel holding up her raven locks. “Just move out of the way. And please, take a shower.” The two got up from the steps as Heather pushed herself in between them, audibly gagging before shutting the cabin door behind her. Cody and Noah glanced at each other, both anxious to be near each other again.

After one final glance, Noah walked away, towel draped over his left shoulder as he held his backpack full of clothes with his right. Cody reached out a hand and called his name, but he didn’t turn. He walked ahead, leaving Cody at the cabin porch standing like an idiot. And like at the lake, he died, leaving Cody at his dead, bleeding body weeping like an idiotic, explosive crybaby.

Cody sat up in his bed with a gasp, a blurry hand extended out to god-knows-where in the dark room. He then realized he was in the cabin and all of the others were asleep, even the ones on supposed ‘lookout’, leaving him alone yet again in the dark. Cody laid back down, eyes beginning to swell with emotion as he remembered his dream clearly. But then a teardrop fell into his pillow, and then many more as he realized it wasn’t a dream, but a memory. A memory where he’d let Noah go and tried to get him back when it was too late.

What would’ve happened if I actually tried to grab hold of his wrist? he thought. What would’ve happened if I finished my sentence, even if I had no idea where it would lead? Because I could at least leave Noah to rest peacefully with a finished sentence. I could at least do Noah a favor by telling him all that needed to be said in case any of us were to die, in which one of us did.

Cody held so much regret in his throat that he began to choke on his own breath. He covered his mouth, hoping no one would awaken to the sound of his pitiful crying. He would go out to get some air and calm down, but he knew the killer was roaming, waiting for someone to let their guard down.

Perhaps it was best if the killer caught him. In that way, he’d be with Noah again, whether it be their souls trapped on the island or at the gates of hell because of how they were; the outcome didn’t matter to Cody, just as long as he could be with Noah again, to tell him how he felt and how sorry he was and everything else he regretted not doing and telling and showing to him. He needed to be with Noah, even if it was only for just a while. But he knew that would never happen; that it was only a memory and nothing more. If he could pretend it was just a dream, though, then he could do everything he wanted with Noah. To talk, to smile, to laugh, to kiss; even just being by his side.

Were Tyler and Lindsay together after their untimely, unfair deaths? And would it be the same with Noah and him? If Tyler and Lindsay were happily together in heaven, then would he be happy with Noah in whichever place they were placed in? But Cody knew it wouldn't be the same: it would never be the same. It wouldn't be the same if he died, but it wouldn't be the same if he lived. There was no solution– without Noah, things could never go back to how they were. Cody would never see books the same. Cody would never see summer camps the same– he’d never see boys the same.

Noah said he never wanted to leave him, so why did he? How could fate be so unfair as to take away everyone people have ever cared for, like Katie’s best friend Sadie, and Tyler after Lindsay, and probably more people to come? Because, frankly, Cody didn’t want to die. He was too much of a coward to actually go out and get himself killed, but that was the only chance he could take to reunite with Noah again.

If Cody could do it all over again, he’d take Noah’s wrist and kiss him, non-consensually yet again, neglecting any reactions from the teens because he could feel it in his heart that Noah wouldn’t care either. He’d make up for his sad excuse for a first kiss for Noah, assuring him that there was a choice if he wanted to ever kiss him or not to make up for his stupid decision to try and get his feelings out. He’d sit him down and tell him everything he wanted, like the many stories he experienced at Upper Crust and his negligent parents and his distant friends—

—he could finally finish his sentence. ‘I love you’, he’d say. He’d say it over and over again to make sure Noah knew he loved and cared and never wanted to part with him, to make sure Noah knew he felt the same way. But he never took the chance. And that fragment of such a critical sentence was the last he’d ever say to Noah before he was strangled, stabbed, and drowned just hours after their first and final kiss. After saying that stupid excuse for a sentence, Cody ran out of his luck. He knew the guilt and regret would never leave, a permanent ache in his chest that would only grow worse by the years.

Cody finally slept that night, the aching pain in his body throbbing as bad as it could possibly get.

There were only seven of them left when Chris finally came for them. After Noah was murdered, the teens found Bridgette in the campfire pit, Geoff and Owen stitched together like a damn monstrosity, Trent impaled with fish hooks, and the rest just as dead. The only one they hadn't found was DJ, but none of them would venture out into the woods if there was a high chance he was dead. Cody felt that everyone including himself left the island with guilt knowing DJ could've been alive but didn't make it to the helicopters in time.

Cody was quick to pack his bags like everyone else when they heard the helicopters above their cabin in the awakening hour of dawn. It didn't matter if Gwen left her eyeliner in the bathrooms or if Leshawna lost a hoop earring– they were finally out of the island, and that was all that mattered.

As the teens began rushing out with their luggage to the sweet sound of the chopper wings slicing the air, Cody looked back to Noah’s cabin-bunk once more. Then he noticed something lying underneath the bottom bunk just enough for it to be visible. He quickly bent down to pick it up, and as he dusted off the dirt off of the object, he immediately recognized the plain purple hardcover and golden letters engraved into its spine; Noah’s book.

“Let’s go, Cody, or else Chris’ll leave you here for good!” he heard from behind. Cody stood and turned to face the doorway which showed Leshawna urging him on with a hasty hand. They both rushed out of the cabin, almost huddled together.

Chris was shown urging the teens to climb up on the rope ladder as a pulley elevated their heavy luggage. Chris helped Cody put his suitcase in the pulley as it left the ground and patted him on the back to urge him upwards. As Cody glanced at his face, he was void of a greeting smile and instead weary eyes, showing a clear sign that he was nothing but scared.

“Wait, DJ’s still in the cabin!" Cody heard Leshawna shout above him over the loud chopping in the air. Cody raised his eyebrow at her, wondering why she called the name of the proclaimed dead, which she was quick to smirk at after Chris quickly rushed to check for any sign of him.

As Chris left the Gopher cabin to verify he wasn't there, Leshawna, Cody, along with the others were already in the chopper, meaning their mission was a success. What the pilots weren't aware of, though, was that Chris was in fact not climbing up the ladder after Cody. So with their false information in mind, they took off, leaving Chris rushing over to the rope slowly levitating out of reach. The teens were towering over the island by then, but they could imagine the sick feeling and chilled expression on Chris’ face. As much as they wanted to cheer, or scream, or laugh, or anything– they couldn't. They didn't say a word, unable to even look at each other properly as their eyes were locked on the murderous island slowly shrinking in the distance.

And during that entire duration of climbing up the ladder, leaving Chris behind, watching the island fade away into the clouds, and flying away to safety, Cody hugged Noah's book tight in his arms, afraid that it could disappear like Chris McLean, the entire reason why the twenty two of them were trapped with a murderer and why only seven of them made it out alive.

The seven of them made it out alive. That's all that mattered in the end.

After a month on the morbid island, Cody became a bleak, monotone soul that lost any connection to his emotions. Sure, he was pretty annoying when it came to his social life, but he was only a kid. After the island, he became hardened, stiff, unable to express his feelings properly after constantly keeping quiet and going great lengths to survive against the Man. He was no longer the Cody he knew, his few friends/bullies at Upper Crust knew, his teachers knew– that Noah knew.

The only ones that hadn't noticed a change in his behavior were his parents, who didn't bother to even ask how his morbid trip to a fate worse than hell was. But Cody expected it, and he didn't feel like telling them, not like they’d care anyway.

They didn't suspect him when he began tossing things about his room and shouting and wailing explosively. They didn't suspect him when he would stay in his room for the rest of the summer, sometimes not even exiting his room for his routinely meals. And when school came back, they didn't suspect a thing when Cody left the house in a sloppy uniform with an almost empty backpack full of last-year supplies Cody wasn't even sure was eligible for use.

He would no longer eat nor talk with his friends at lunch, if they bothered to sit with him for the day. He would no longer raise his hand to answer questions, or walk around to help– flirt– with female classmates, or react when he was spit-balled or wedgied or pantsed. If he was called, he would answer in a quiet voice unlike his bright, geeky voice he had the year before. And it got to a point where even the bullies were scared of him— his expressionless face as he turned around to face a culprit, or the way he would remain still in his seat or take in the school lunch or toilet water rushing to his face. And in a matter of time, everyone learned to leave him alone, all afraid of his sudden 180 after the summer. No one knew, he said, and no one needed to know.

But finally, during a Tuesday night which came close to the end of the first semester, he realized everyone needed to know. It wasn't that no one would believe him of his tale, but that he didn't even begin to believe in himself. He was ashamed of himself for carrying the burden on for too long. He neglected the situation like his parents did to him because that’s all he was taught to do with a tragic feeling; to repress it until it became a comfortable habit. Owen and Geoff would not like that. Trent would not like that.

Noah would not like that.

Cody boarded a train to Edmonton the following morning (after pretending to walk to school, of course), the feeling of anxiousness coming back to him like a gradual slope as the hours became minutes and minutes became tiny steps up to the large campus. He read Noah’s book all over again for what felt like the ninth time, characters and plot clearer to him than ever before because of his undivided attention upon the book. Perhaps if knew other books Noah read before his death, Cody would focus on his school work, but alas, all he knew was the one he held.

He kept reminding himself that his trip wasn't just to bring Noah’s death to justice, but the others, too. From the cliche couple to the rude rich girl– Cody ventured so far from home to make sure they hadn't died in vain. After all this time, nobody has reported his cause, or explored the island, or reported Chris as missing. He was many miles away from the dead’s families, so he wouldn't know if their missing reports were local. Believing the others were going through the same things he was gave him even more reason to stand up, and if he were too late for the six to see alive…

By the time he’d arrived, it was fifth period nearing lunchtime, so he waited until then for teens to begin swarming the outdoor picnic tables. As they eventually did so, Cody slipped into the cafeteria and began his search, seeming a lot more suspicious than intended and expected.

At first, he was unsuccessful in his search for anyone related to Noah. He’d asked many people with books and sweater vests and, while some knew who he was, they didn't know anything about him other than his high grades and self-esteem.

Then, as lunch almost came to an end and as Cody began losing hope, he met a boy named Joey, a blonde, pale teen not much taller than himself.

“Yeah, I know him," he said, recognizing the hardcover book in Cody’s hands, “he’s one of the student council members. Why, do you know where he’s been all this time? His family’s been worried sick ever since he left for that TV show.”

And then Cody told him. He stuttered at first, almost letting himself break in front of a mutual friend, but he gathered himself and told the story, taking up not much more than five minutes of Joey’s time. After a minute to take in everything he’d said, Joey gave Cody Noah’s address to tell his family about this, fearing that if he told them they’d play it off as a joke.

When lunchtime ended, Cody slipped out of the school through the cafeteria double doors and to the nearest street where he’d pull a cab and ask to go to that address. A rush of anxiety crashed over him as he neared Noah’s home; the place he grew up in and could no longer go back to.

He neared the porch and, after catching his breath, knocked on the door. A dog barked and pots clanged, children cried and roared, and finally, a woman answered the door, not much older than Noah but too young to be his mother.

“Hello,” she said with Noah’s eyebrow raise. She mimicked him in many ways; from the way she stood to the faint line above her brow hidden by a dark-roast fringe.

Cody knew nothing but to stand still, anxiously gripping Noah’s book. This was a sister, or aunt, or whoever, it didn't matter; this is someone Noah knew. Someone that knew Noah for the sixteen years of his life.

She hesitated at the door before noticing the book in his hands. Skeptically, she looked back up to Cody’s quivering face. “If you wanna return his book, he’s not here.”

“And I know why he isn't,” Cody finally said, voice soft with nervousness. He gulped down his nerves, but they quickly regenerated around his body. “I know everything.” Her eyes widened as she gripped the door, biting her lip as she stared down at the boy. After many seconds of back-and-forth staring, she let him in, guiding him to her mother as he held his book in his shaking hands.

The house was littered with toys, but Noah was told to be the youngest child. Then he saw many young faces, supposedly Noah’s cousins, nieces, or nephews who all played with each other, laughing and shouting and doing all other things that kids did.

He observed the many adults talking amongst themselves in one big group divided into many. They either watched the children on the living room couch, sat at the island counter or dining table, or cooked in the kitchen, which produced a tangy, spicy scent that smelt like nothing but home. But despite the warmth and comfort of the home, they were missing something. They were missing Noah.

The two found Noah’s mother, who was busy at the stove with a cheery laugh. She turned to see Cody’s face, at first suspicious like it was a family trait for the Sterecras. She spoke in her native tongue to the woman who answered the door as she did back, and Cody soon realized that almost everyone in the house spoke that language, from the young children to the cheesy aunts and uncles. Cody was an outsider, no matter where he was.

Cody watched her face fall as the woman told her something in (maybe) Hindi, supposedly what Cody had said at the front door. They exchanged places as Noah’s mother guided Cody to a quieter area; the front porch yet again.

“Where is my child?" she asked as they sat down at the porch bench. Cody’s lip trembled as he told her about Chris and the island, the murderer and the murdered, the blood and the anger, and he and Noah. Her glum face was unrecognizable from her laughing smile inside the house as she gave Cody her undivided attention as he, the boy who she never knew existed, told her about this excruciating and morbid tale of her son’s survival, love, and death.

“I know I could never love him like you guys could but– but he was the first to care about me," Cody said, tears now blinding his eyes. “No one could ever amount to what he did for me— no one, ever. I— I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you.” Noah’s mother held him close, patting his head more lovingly than his own mother.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said, wiping the tears from Cody’s cheeks with her thumbs. “I didn’t love him how I needed to after he told me he didn’t like girls, but I realized too late that to love is to love unconditionally. And to meet the boy that cared for him— loved him in such a horrible environment is just—“ she sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her wail. “I am so sorry, child. I am sorry for loving him wrong, and in return, having my child taken from one that had done that for him.”

Cody and Noah’s mother sat on the porch for a while longer, both comforting the other as they cried, spilling all of the memories out of their heart-broken souls. Cody learned that Noah used to be scared of dogs, but once she adopted Winston, it was all he cared about. He learned that no matter what his siblings said or did, he wouldn’t tell her or her husband thinking they’d play it off as a way to seek attention when really, that was the last he ever needed. And his mother learned that he’d gotten another friend Owen, who was just like Winston where he followed him everywhere with a big grin on his face. She learned that he’d died protecting his beliefs, and in return drowned in the lake on a thunderous night, the last said to him by Cody being an unfinished sentence which could change Noah’s fate.

He could’ve lived, Cody told her, if I gathered up the courage to tell him I loved him back. But it never happened, and the chance wouldn’t come back again. The last he’d ever heard his mother say was a bitter goodbye, sour about his sexuality and the possibility of him running away to love himself for who he was. They both sat in regret, throats clogging with the words they wished they’d said.

They entered the house when the sun began to set, a beautiful sight they wished Noah had been fortunate enough to see before his death. She shooed off the relatives offering them dinner and guided Cody upstairs into a room at the end of a long corridor.

She swung open the door and there Cody saw an entire wall full of books, a messy bed full of last-year’s papers and a desk reeking of all-night studying. The room had literally stopped time, the only reminder of the present being a ticking analog clock beside a two-doored closet. Cody knew well enough that this was Noah’s room; the room he’d grown up in and became the teen that he was.

Cody ran a hand through the books on the shelf, leaving behind a trail in the dust. By that time, she’d left to make sure the dinner for three families hadn’t been destroyed, door closed behind her to leave Cody and Noah’s entire life represented in a compact room, the bookshelf wall making the space feel much larger than it was.

He noticed a packing box had been stuffed with items but carelessly tossed aside. Curiously, Cody approached it, first reading the words, ‘Noah’s Unwanted Things’ written in black ink on one of the outer flaps. He unraveled the three other flaps to see many trinkets like Rubik’s Cubes and fingerboards and lower-level books Cody was more used to. He dug around before giving up fruitlessly, trudging to the other side of the room to inspect Noah’s photos, which consisted more of band posters and ripped book pages than actual photographs. The few he’d catch, though, mostly consisted of him with his dog or that boy named Joey, the one he’d met at his school. He pocketed his favorite; a Polaroid in which a younger Noah was captured cross-legged with a video game controller in his hands, dog resting in his lap. He seemed unaware of the camera because of the visible focus in his eyes, no brow line to be seen. He giggled at the sight before replacing it for the bookmark in Noah’s book.

Cody had considered taking more than the photograph and an argyle sweater from his closet— what could he say, he loved the color gray— but nothing else sufficed. He had no connections to the books or pens or anything else in his room, and it felt intruding to take things from a guy who was very open about his closed boundaries. Nonetheless, Cody approached the door accomplished, a bitter smile he’d never had in a long while on his pale, malnourished face.

As he looked back to take in the rest of Noah, the scent of crumpled paper and a musky cologne lingering on the tip of his nose, Cody finally noticed an object beside the box of Noah’s unwanted items, which he guessed he’d taken out by accident. He wanted to be as respectful to Noah as he possibly could, more to make up for taking his things, so he walked over, bent down and picked it up, his free hand feeling the grooves of what he’d recognized as a VHS tape. He found it intriguing, to say the least, when he read, ‘Noah 4 Class Prez’ on the VHS, so he approached the dusty box TV on the dresser parallel to the end of Noah’s bed and inserted it into the slot, taking a courtesy seat at the edge of his bed.

“It’s on, right?” were the first words Cody heard. To see Noah’s animated face again, even if it was his annoying, skeptical face with the usual eyebrow raise, was like a factory reset in the cogs of Cody’s mind. He finally realized that Noah was in front of him again, or rather, a projection onto a TV, and he was in his room, the feel of him finally reaching Cody. Tears began to swell, Cody preparing to wipe away his tears by setting down his items beside him. The title card’s contents were unknown to Cody because of how emotional he got.

“Okay, hey,” Noah greeted after a few words with the camera man, who hastily adjusted the camera to not ruin the angle. “I’m Noah Sterecra, the only competent guy in this Chem class, but it’s not like I can say that proudly, right? You guys need a humble class president, one that can recognize mistakes that he himself makes and, with a little bit of motivation, I could maybe… probably…” Noah clicked his tongue, rubbing his chin for flair. “… sometimes do that for you guys.” Cody chuckled, even if it was just a dry one he’d always do at the start of conversations with Noah because that’s what it felt like— he was conversing with him for one last time.

“What you need is a president that’s not only smart and humble, but loyal, humorous and apparently kind? I may be quite the opposite with you all, mostly because I am humorous in my own way, but that’s also a clear attribute in a perfect president; creativity.” Cody felt his smile thicken as he realized Noah had probably said all of that at the top of his head— he really was smart, huh?

“Maybe I am a nerd, and maybe I am a loner, but that isn’t to say I couldn’t put up with you guys as class president. I promise to be sociable and hear out all of your opinions, even the horrible and god-awful ones that could and probably has caused world wars,” Cody laughed, “But despite all of it, I promise, as candidate for and hopefully the class president, to be all of those things I had mentioned beforehand and anything else you seek in a leader.” The hand on his chest relaxed after three seconds and Noah waved to the camera with one shake, an awkward smile on his blurry, pixelated face. The tape had finished by then, and its evacuation from insertion made Cody jump. As Cody picked up the tape from it falling on the wood floor below him, he noticed one, two, three teardrops fall to the floor, leaving sighs in the dust at his feet.

Cody sat back up with confusion in his eyes as they released many drops of sorrow he was unfamiliar with. When he cried, his heart would feel like it was being ripped apart, blended into a fine paste, then burnt to a crisp in a furnace, but here, he felt… happy. He never thought you could be happy crying, but there he was, an aching smile on his face that made his face muscles sore. He hadn’t realized he’d smiled the entire tape till he removed it, cheeks sore from constantly smiling.

And finally, like the first wave of stars aligning, the sun and moon meeting to form an eclipse, the Earth finding perfect equilibrium, he realized he felt acceptance. He accepted that would be the last he’d ever hear him speak. He accepted the fact that Noah was dead and that it wasn’t always a bad thing. He learned that waiting for another chance would be to stall till it was too late. He learned that love was universal, and though it wasn’t the same for everyone, love existed in all forms.

He learned that it was time to move on from Noah. He knew it was bound to happen, of course, but he didn’t want it to. He thought that rereading his book over and over would mean he still existed in his heart, but it meant nothing. He could never truly forget if he kept their moments together to heart, if he simply appreciated what he had with him and using the things he couldn’t do as ways to better himself. And not only that, but he learned to let go of the others, both the dead and alive. He knew Katie could never replace the missing half in her heart, but that didn't mean she wasn't strong enough to move on, to befriend and love others because she knew it was what Sadie would've wanted for her. He knew Gwen would think of Trent every time she heard an acoustic guitar echoing in the distance, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be able to pick up a pencil and chase her artistic dreams, pieces reminiscing her summer love and friendship.

Tyler and Lindsay could never go on a date after they were rescued. Sadie could never begin her fashion designing career alongside Katie. Trent could never become a musician, and Courtney a lawyer. Bridgette and Geoff could never open that surf shack together. Even if he had to live with the pain of knowing these things, Cody was fine with the lingering guilt. He would live his life to the fullest for them, to never take his time left for granted. He prayed the survivors did the same– to live their lives not only for themselves but for the unfortunate. He knew they’d want him to keep living, to stay happy for his own sake.

Cody had finally found himself again, even if it were a bit more mature, traumatized, and a polar opposite or perhaps somewhere middle ground considering sexuality, but he finally felt comfortable enough to say he was alright. Cody Anderson, a sixteen-year-old boy in his junior year at Upper Crust College, was no longer a bleak, monotone soul that lost any connection to his emotions, but a teen who overcame the trauma from the island, his lover’s death, but most importantly, his inner thoughts.

With an odd satisfaction in his tears, he walked over to the box and put the tape back inside. With the argyle sweater wrapped around his shoulders and book held safe in his hands, he looked back at the room frozen in time, practically untouched but hopefully soon free of its time-freezing jail like Cody, who was finally free of begging for a second chance as if he was stuck at the moment where he held Noah in his arms, insensate eyes no longer able to gaze, firm hands no longer to hold, dry lips no longer able to speak. Cody was frozen like Noah for longer than the both of them– all of the dead wished, but now that he was finally free, he could put all of his regret behind and come forth with his memories, the making of new friends and lovers while exploring his inner being.

Like he left the dark place in his mind, his life, love, and emotional death crackling like a burning film as it faded bittersweetly into sparks of light, Cody left Noah’s room with a heart-aching smile, the door shut behind him like the last chance to turn back time he’d successfully denied.