For Courtland, and all those who have lost someone to desperation

_____

"Whoa!" Lila stepped back as a fast moving body suddenly collided with her. "Take it easy there," she smiled, looking only slightly down at the dark-haired teenage boy that had run into her.

"Sorry, Miss LaGlace," he apologized, grinning beneath his warm brown eyes as he bent to pick up the purse Lila had dropped.

"No problem, Joel," Lila replied as he handed her the purse she had dropped. "Where's the fire?"

"I'm supposed to meet some guys from my Youth Group at the arcade," he explained. "I'm kind of late."

"I see," Lila grinned. "Want a ride?"

"Really?" Joel's eyes lit up at the thought of a ride in Lila's laser red Mustang Cobra convertible.

"Come on," Lila chuckled. "I'm parked right over here."

"Have I ever mentioned," Joel commented as he settled into the black leather seat, "That I love this car?"

"Numerous times," Lila grinned.

"I've been restoring an old classic in our garage," Joel told her, leaning back and letting the wind ruffle his hair. He reached up to finger his small silver earring. "I'm almost finished."

"How's school going?" she asked. Joel grinned.

"Great. I made it into the Advanced Placement classes for math and physics. Senior year's going to be a blast."

"Good for you," Lila smiled again as she pulled into the parking lot outside the arcade.

"Thanks for the ride, Miss LaGlace," Joel said politely, his eyes twinkling as he hopped out of the car. "See you around."

Lila waved before guiding her car carefully out of the parking lot, humming along with the radio. She glimpsed Joel slapping a high five with one of his friends as she passed, and smiled to herself once more, wondering at the joy the young found in life.

'As if you're so old,' she chided herself, chuckling. Joel was seventeen, a mere 5 years younger than she. Lila made a mental note to tell him that it was all right for him to call her by her first name. She didn't want to be old enough to command that much respect just yet. Besides, anyone who could consistently make her smile as much as he did deserved to use the familiar.

***

"There you are," Wildwing looked up as she came in.

"Sorry," she said, tossing her purse on the couch. "I was dropping off a friend."

"How's Marilyn doing?" he asked, looking back down at the papers he was working on. 'Stupid league regulations,' she could almost hear him thinking, 'All this red tape just to play hockey.'

"Wasn't Mari," she told him, plopping down across from him and picking up a bunch of insurance forms awaiting her signature. 'I sign as many autographs as they do,' she thought in disgust, glancing at the pile of health forms that would come next.

"Who was it?" Wildwing glanced at her, concerned. Lila tried not to sigh, she knew he was just worried for her safety.

"A seventeen-year-old boy who wouldn't harm a soul," she told him. "His name's Joel, he won that 'Meet the Mighty Ducks' Captain' raffle a while back. He lives around here, I see him every once in a while, and he always says hello. He's very polite, very sweet, strong in his faith, and if he's in league with the Saurians I'll eat my skates."

Wildwing chuckled and shook his head. "Just so long as you're careful," he commented as he dropped a stack of papers onto the "finished" pile next to him and started on the next round. "We can't trust everybody, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, look who you're talking to. I've been hearing that speech since I was five. Can't we hire someone to do this stuff?" Lila sighed as she discovered her pen was out of ink.

***

"Yeah, well anyway, Phil wanted us too--" Wildwing stopped abruptly as he and Tanya walked into the ready room.

Lila was standing in front of the television, her face frozen in shock and horror. The remote slipped from her hand and banged to the floor. The back of it immediately popped off and the batteries went skittering out with a clatter.

The noise seemed to jolt her back to reality.

"No," she whispered, "Oh, no, it can't be." She sank down, her wide eyes filling with tears as she covered her mouth with one hand. Wildwing and Tanya looked at each other and rushed forward.

"Lila, what's wrong?" they demanded simultaneously. Lila could only shake her head and stare at the television.

"The 17-year-old boy was found this afternoon in his garage, with the engine in his 1951 Chevy running. The death has been ruled as a suicide."

Lila leapt up and fled the room.

"As yet, no one knows why the well-liked, above-average, Christian young man, Joel Andrews, would want to take his own life."

***

In her room, Lila sobbed into her hands, curled in her favorite chair. 'Why? Why, Joel? Didn't you understand...'

She heard her door slide open. A shadow fell over her and her cousin knelt at her side and put her arms around Lila. Lila resisted an urge to pull away. She felt Wildwing's hands on her shoulders as he stepped behind her.

"Hey," Wildwing said softly, "Are you going to be ok?"

'No,' Lila wanted to scream, 'It'll never be ok again.' She thought back to all those soldiers she had tried to save, that had wanted so much to live, and she had to fight back a burst of anger at the selfishness of Joel's act. A wave of guilt immediately followed. If he'd only felt that he could come to her...

"Lai?" Wildwing squeezed her shoulders, and she felt compelled to lift her face.

"Why?" she sighed.

"Only Joel knows," Tanya sighed. "I'm sorry, Lila." Lila stood and wiped her eyes.

"I have work to do," she sighed.

"Are you sure--"

"Yes." Lila stepped around her cousin and headed for her bathroom, closing the door behind her and locking it with a click.

***

Lila's alarm went off, and she rolled over to slap it off after a night that had been less than restful.

'Joel won't ever have to get up again.'

She dragged herself up and into the shower, twisting the knob viscously.

'Joel won't ever feel water running over him again.'

She opened her closet.

'Joel won't ever decide what clothes to wear again.'

She went down to the kitchen.

'Joel won't ever eat breakfast again.'

She went out to the ice to watch practice.

'Joel won't ever watch another game.'

All day, almost at random, Lila kept thinking. She couldn't stop. Once, she almost picked up the phone to call his family, but she drew her hand back before it even touched the receiver. His mother didn't know her. Courtland's friends, his real friends, were mourning, and remembering with his family. She didn't want to intrude. She'd heard, from one of Joel's friends, that over two hundred people had gone to his church to remember him and each other in prayer. His classmates had made his locker a shrine of poems and flowers. So many missed him, so many lives he had touched.

Really, Lila had known Joel only in passing, they hadn't been close.

So why did it still hurt so much?

'Because of who he was,' Lila sighed. 'Because of the way he lit up your day, with a smile or a compliment, or even a polite hello. The way he was always sympathetic when your day went bad. Who could have known that he was hurting as much as any of us? More, even...'

You could, said a little nagging voice in the back of her mind. You, the perceptive one, you should have known. If it had been Wildwing, you would have. You should have been closer to him, you should have given him what he needed...

Lila stood and banished the voice as best she could, turning to a set of forms that was, this one time, a welcome distraction.

'Joel won't ever distract me again.'

'Why,' she asked one more time, 'How could you not know how loved you really were?'