Everyone says you will always remember your last year of high school, and while it wasn't the perfect end to school that I'd dreamt of, in many ways, it was better. At the beginning of the year, things were going swimmingly; I was everything other girls wanted to be – smart, popular and my boyfriend, Dylan, was definitely the hottest guy on the football team. At that moment, everything was just how I dreamed it would be.

...

I had seen them doing it a few times now; the guys on the football team would corner one of the band guys, Michael, in the hallway between classes, and would give him a rough time over playing the flute. They never bothered him when they had their girls with them – they had reputations to keep after all. There had been one time when I saw them, Dylan leading the pack, kicking Michael's backpack and books all over the floor, while Michael just stood against the wall, watching them sullenly. It shocked me that the sweet, caring guy I'd been dating for the past three months could be so cruel. I didn't want to say anything about it; afraid that if I did, Dylan would dump me.

...

The football game had just finished; the girls and I were heading out of the gym amidst the flow of students, ready to hit the usual after-party at Dylan's house. Just then, we saw Michael leave the school hall, his flute case under his arm. It was easy to know when Dylan saw him; he stopped mucking around with his mates and his voice dropped, "Hey here comes queer boy." The rest of the guys snickered as they watched Michael struggle with the combination of his bike lock. "Guys who play the flute are gay. Just admit it, you're gay!" Dylan taunted. The rest of the team picked up the tune and started jeering at him. Even the other girls were laughing mockingly at him as he rode away without a backward glance. I just stood there uncomfortably, looking on at the ugly scene unfolding in front of me. I didn't want to join in, but I was too afraid to say anything or to stop them.

As I woke the next morning, I realised that something was wrong. Normally our house was a hive of activity in the mornings, people moving around with a buzz of chatter in the air. Now it was almost silent. As I slipped down the stairs, I heard Mum and Dad talking quietly. I rounded the corner and they looked up, grief written on their faces. Dad looked at me sombrely and said, "Jess, did you know Michael Schwartz?" The events of last night came flooding back; my heart pounded in my throat as I answered tentatively, "Yeah, why? What's happened?"
"I'm sorry sweetie," Dad said softly, "he committed suicide last night." At this, I sank down onto a chair, needing the support, as my heart sank. I could hardly believe that Michael had killed himself. I was horrified when I realised that Dylan's bullying had driven Michael to this. Then I thought of something even worse, something so awful, it almost knocked me off my chair...I could have saved him...I could have stopped Dylan from teasing him. By just standing around, being part of that group, I had been condoning their bullying. I may as well have been hurling insults with them. I was so appalled at what had happened, and by my part in it, that I almost felt sick. What good was being one of the most noticed and envied girls in the school, if I didn't have the courage to stand up for what's right?

When I saw Dylan and his mates swagger into school later that morning, like they owned the place, I realised that the Dylan I saw last night was the real Dylan and that he had only been acting sweet and caring while I was with him. The thought that he had been lying to me, and the realisation of what he was really like, disgusted me. Dylan saw me and called out, "Hey babe, come over here. I want to talk to you." I couldn't believe his nerve; a kid had died last night and he didn't have a care in the world. I stormed up to him and said angrily, "We're done Dylan. Finished. I don't ever want to see you again." His eyes narrowed all laughter and bravado gone from his face. "What did you say?" he said quietly.
"You heard me. I'm through with you. Did you really think I would stay with you after what happened last night? After what you did?" He looked puzzled, like he literally couldn't figure out what was happening, why I was dumping him. "What are you talking about, Jess? Nothing happened last night!" I was astonished that he really had no clue, no idea what his actions, his words, had done. "Michael Schwartz died last night, and you have no idea of what you did to him. What you drove him to," I replied scathingly, so furious I was shaking. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed of himself, or like he cared what his actions had done. He just looked stunned as it dawned on him that I was serious. "Come on, Jessie, it wasn't that bad. Stop overreacting; it's not like anyone's going to miss him. Don't do this to us. Don't do this to me," he said pleadingly. I just shook my head, astounded that he believed I was that easily influenced. With that one motion, his whole demeanour changed. He glared at me, not disguising the loathing in his eyes or voice as he leant in and said quietly, "You'll regret this. You just wait; you'll come crawling back to me. No-one dumps me!" With equal loathing and contempt in my voice I whispered back to him, "You stay away from me Dylan Long. I don't want to have anything else to do with you." He just looked at me and turned away. I realised abruptly that I had cut myself off from the only group of friends I had in school. I was almost crushed by the overwhelming loneliness that followed. I had no one. No one to talk to or joke with or hang out with. I suddenly felt like I was in Michael's shoes, understanding what he had been through.

There was a memorial service for Michael at school the next week. Even afterwards, I saw Dylan trying to muck around with his mates. His friends weren't joining in though. I could see by the sombre looks on their faces that they had been affected by the service and were possibly feeling some remorse. I went up to Michael's parents and apologised for not doing more for Michael, not standing up for him, not stopping Dylan from bullying him. They seemed to understand and thanked me quietly. I felt even worse when I realised that, despite being in the same class with Michael for years, I had never taken the time to get to know him. Suddenly I stopped; it had just hit me that apart from my own group, I had never gotten to know any of the people in my classes. How many times had I passed them in the hallway and not even known their names? How many people in the senior year did I walk past every day, without taking the time to learn about them? With that thought, I realised that I didn't want to be seen as just Dylan's girlfriend or another pretty face. I wanted to know people and to be known for me. I thought about how I felt after I had confronted Dylan; the crushing loneliness that came from being alone among hundreds of strangers. I realised how I could make a difference at the school. I swore that I would do my best to stop other kids from being in the same boat as Michael. Alone, lonely and desperate for a friend. I would be that friend. I would stand up for them.