ever.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie saw his mum walk past his room. Then she stopped and came in, slowly putting something down on his bookshelf. Neither of them said a word.
âMum ⦠can I have a hug?â Jamie suddenly asked.
âOf course,â she said, opening her arms wide.
Jamie clasped his arms around her and hugged as hard as he could.
âI love you, Mum,â he mumbled, almost nervously. He wondered why it took such a bad thing to happen for him to be able to say it.
âI love you too, Jamie. You know youâre the most important thing in the whole world to me, donât you?â
Jamie nodded. His heart was throbbing in his throat.
âAnd Iâm not the only one who adored you,â she said, turning to pick up the book that she had laid on top of the bookshelf when she came in.
âMike wanted you to have this,â she said, handing it to Jamie.
âWhat is it?â asked Jamie.
âItâs his diary.â
Jamie sat down on his bed and opened the diary at the beginning.
Jamie shut his eyes to try and hold in his emotions. Then he turned the page.
Jamie touched the pages of the diary as softly, as tenderly as he could. He wanted the tips of his fingers to connect with the ink that had come from the pen that Mike had once held in his hand.
As he read and touched Mikeâs words, for the briefest of moments, Jamie felt Mikeâs presence surround him.
Jamie slowly closed the diary. Then, for the first time in months, for the first time since the accident, he did what he most needed to do. He cried.
Â
Â
It had been so long that Jamie almost couldnât find it. But then he spotted it, beneath the huge oak tree that looked naked now, without its leaves.
Jamie sat down on his favourite bench in Sunningdale Park. He looked at the football pitches in front of him. Then he closed his eyes and allowed all the memories of the games heâd played here crash like a tidal wave around his mind.
âThought I might find you here,â called a familiar voice.
Jamie looked up and he couldnât believe his eyes. He couldnât believe who it was.
Jack looked even prettier than the last time heâd seen her. She was just wearing jeans and a T-shirt but she still looked better than any of the supermodels on TV.
âCan I sit down?â she asked.
âCourse,â said Jamie, shifting up to make space. âItâs as much your bench as it is mine.â
They both smiled as they looked at the engraving theyâd made years before on the bench, using Jackâs keys:
J & J 4ever
They sat in silence for a few moments before Jack said, âIâm so sorry about Mike, Jamie.â
âCheers,â said Jamie. âMike always liked you, you know. He said I should make sure that I hung on to you.â
Then Jamie tried to begin the speech heâd rehearsed in his mind so many times over the last few weeks.
âJack, listen, Iâm sorry about ⦠what happened when I was at Foxborough,â he began. âI was an idiot. Iââ
âOh, forget about it,â she said nonchalantly.
Jamie couldnât believe his luck. He couldnât believe she was making things so easy for him.
âReally?â he beamed.
âYeah, forget about it,â she repeated. âI forgot about it months ago.â
âOK, cool ⦠great, so we can beâ¦â
âFriends. Yeah, weâll always be friends, Jamie.â
âFriends? Oh, yeah ⦠right⦠Itâs just I thought ⦠friends. Yeah ⦠friends.â
When they were younger, Jamie and Jack had always sprinted down to Sunningdale from their houses. Theyâd had races to see who could get there first. Of course Jamie had always won. He had natural pace.
He could have been a professional sprinter if he hadnât loved football so much.
But now they were just walking. Slowly. The doctor had said it would be at
Out of the corner of his eye, Jamie saw his mum walk past his room. Then she stopped and came in, slowly putting something down on his bookshelf. Neither of them said a word.
âMum ⦠can I have a hug?â Jamie suddenly asked.
âOf course,â she said, opening her arms wide.
Jamie clasped his arms around her and hugged as hard as he could.
âI love you, Mum,â he mumbled, almost nervously. He wondered why it took such a bad thing to happen for him to be able to say it.
âI love you too, Jamie. You know youâre the most important thing in the whole world to me, donât you?â
Jamie nodded. His heart was throbbing in his throat.
âAnd Iâm not the only one who adored you,â she said, turning to pick up the book that she had laid on top of the bookshelf when she came in.
âMike wanted you to have this,â she said, handing it to Jamie.
âWhat is it?â asked Jamie.
âItâs his diary.â
Jamie sat down on his bed and opened the diary at the beginning.
Jamie shut his eyes to try and hold in his emotions. Then he turned the page.
Jamie touched the pages of the diary as softly, as tenderly as he could. He wanted the tips of his fingers to connect with the ink that had come from the pen that Mike had once held in his hand.
As he read and touched Mikeâs words, for the briefest of moments, Jamie felt Mikeâs presence surround him.
Jamie slowly closed the diary. Then, for the first time in months, for the first time since the accident, he did what he most needed to do. He cried.
Â
Â
It had been so long that Jamie almost couldnât find it. But then he spotted it, beneath the huge oak tree that looked naked now, without its leaves.
Jamie sat down on his favourite bench in Sunningdale Park. He looked at the football pitches in front of him. Then he closed his eyes and allowed all the memories of the games heâd played here crash like a tidal wave around his mind.
âThought I might find you here,â called a familiar voice.
Jamie looked up and he couldnât believe his eyes. He couldnât believe who it was.
Jack looked even prettier than the last time heâd seen her. She was just wearing jeans and a T-shirt but she still looked better than any of the supermodels on TV.
âCan I sit down?â she asked.
âCourse,â said Jamie, shifting up to make space. âItâs as much your bench as it is mine.â
They both smiled as they looked at the engraving theyâd made years before on the bench, using Jackâs keys:
J & J 4ever
They sat in silence for a few moments before Jack said, âIâm so sorry about Mike, Jamie.â
âCheers,â said Jamie. âMike always liked you, you know. He said I should make sure that I hung on to you.â
Then Jamie tried to begin the speech heâd rehearsed in his mind so many times over the last few weeks.
âJack, listen, Iâm sorry about ⦠what happened when I was at Foxborough,â he began. âI was an idiot. Iââ
âOh, forget about it,â she said nonchalantly.
Jamie couldnât believe his luck. He couldnât believe she was making things so easy for him.
âReally?â he beamed.
âYeah, forget about it,â she repeated. âI forgot about it months ago.â
âOK, cool ⦠great, so we can beâ¦â
âFriends. Yeah, weâll always be friends, Jamie.â
âFriends? Oh, yeah ⦠right⦠Itâs just I thought ⦠friends. Yeah ⦠friends.â
When they were younger, Jamie and Jack had always sprinted down to Sunningdale from their houses. Theyâd had races to see who could get there first. Of course Jamie had always won. He had natural pace.
He could have been a professional sprinter if he hadnât loved football so much.
But now they were just walking. Slowly. The doctor had said it would be at
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