by Addison Jane
“I thought something had gone down.” She gasped, and I slapped her leg, shushing her. “He was wandering around with Braydon, it was like he was looking for something. He was looking for you.” Her voice was quiet now, but she couldn’t hide the excitement. It made me feel giddy too, like a little girl who’d just been told her crush liked her. But I guess that was almost true.
Apart from Kyle, none of the boys had ever approached me as more than just a friend. Sure, men on the street leered, and I’d had my fair share of propositions–every other day—but this was so different.
I wanted to know more about Heath, I wanted to know what made him tick, and feel him touch me again. It was a sweet burn that was slowly consuming my body with warmth. He’d been such a mystery to begin with, but him appearing in my life again I’m sure can’t have been a coincidence.
I knew he felt something too, not because of the kiss, but because of the way he watched me like he was studying every part of me and committing it to memory.
I lay my head back on Layla’s knee, basking in the dream that I knew would probably never repeat itself. So far the universe hadn’t been so great to me, why would it start now?
Layla, as if reading my thoughts started to play one of my favorite songs, Burning House. Its lyrics lulled me gently as she sang to the beautiful soft tune. She knew me so well sometimes it was almost scary. I loved all of my friends here, but it was Layla that I knew I could trust with anything and everything, and knew that no matter what, she’d just understand.
I met Layla in Juvie, she’d subtly pushed herself into my life and forced her friendship on me, but I was so grateful that she had.
“Hi. Can I sit with you?” I jumped at the small voice, no one had ever approached me before. I looked up and found a petite girl with long blonde hair, which was swept over the front of her shoulder in a braid, and reached well past her waistline. Her eyes were a stunning shade of what I could only describe as denim blue. “Umm… is that okay?” she asked again raising her eyebrow and shaking me from my daze.
Clearing my throat and returning to my book, I replied quietly, “Yeah, sure.”
She dropped with a thud into the chair opposite me, the movement so ungraceful and so contrary to the high-class, proper look she portrayed. “Great!” she said cheerily then picked at her food for a few minutes before speaking again. “My name’s Layla.”
I raised my eyes once again from my book to see her smile beaming back at me. Perfect mouth, perfect lips, perfect dimples.
“Keira,” I told her softly.
She scooped up her sandwich and took a large bite. “That’s a real pretty name, not very common, though,” she said around a mouth full of food.
A smile quirked at the corner of my mouth. I liked my name, it was one of the only things my parents had ever done right. Keira loosely meant black haired, its origin being Irish. My mother told me when I was born, I had amazing black locks, a characteristic that had never changed. My hair was still black as ink and fell to just below my shoulders. It was so dark it contrasted beautifully with my very pale skin.
“Thank you,” I answered her with a smile. We sat in very comfortable silence, and I took notice of the way she people watched, eyeing all the different groups with a curious look. I knew she was taking note of who sat where, who talked to who, and before I knew it, she was watching me with the same critical eyes.
“You been here long?” she inquired with a slight tilt of her head.
I placed my bookmark inside the page I was reading and closed my book, getting the feeling she didn’t want any more one word answers. “Few weeks,” I said shrugging.
She bobbed her head, nodding softly. “I just got in yesterday, but it’s not my first time.”
My eyebrows raised slightly, encouraging her to continue.
“I did like three months last year for breaking and entering.” I felt my eyes widen even further. This girl looked like the epitome of high-class, it was a surprise to see her here, but to know she was a thief was crazy. The shock was obviously evident on my face, and she let out a soft giggle. “Not what you were expecting, huh?”
“Not at all,” I answered honestly. “So, what’d you do this time?”
“Nine months for grand theft auto.” She shrugged, but with the smile on her face, I could tell she was nowhere near embarrassed about her crimes on society. “How about you?”
No one had asked me yet what I was in for. I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d done. After all, I’d done it to protect myself and my mother, even though I realized now that she didn’t deserve my sacrifice.
“My dad was an abusive asshole. I stabbed him,” I explained shortly. I waited to see the criticism in her eyes, but it never came. Instead, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and it wasn’t the accusing or judgmental look I was expecting. Something else shimmered in her eyes, something that looked more like pride.
“My dad was an alcoholic. I ran when I was thirteen, sick and tired of being his punching bag,” she explained. “You don’t feel bad about it, do you?”
It was then that I realized, no, I had no guilt about what I’d done, no remorse. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Weren’t people supposed to feel some form of sorry, when they caused another human being harm? I didn’t. As far as I was concerned, he deserved what he’d gotten, and more. He felt no guilt after beating my mother half to death, he’d never repented for the things he had done to us.
“Not at all,” I told her, a smile forming on my mouth for the first time in forever. We grinned at each other, and I felt a strong bond already forming. For once, I wanted to talk to someone, to have a friend and I knew that we were going to get along just fine.
Screaming shook me from my daydreams.
Everyone was diving out of their tents as Daisy crawled from Eazy’s yelling, “He’s not breathing!”
My heart stalled, and I scrambled across the ground, the rough ground tearing at my knees, practically pushing her out of the way as I climbed into the small space. Placing my hand on his chest I prayed—prayed to a God I had no faith in—that Daisy was wrong.
“I came in to give him some water,” she cried as Lee wrapped her up in his arms.
Kyle dived in after me, staring at me with wide eyes and pressing his fingers against Eazy’s neck.
But there was nothing.
My heart shattered right there on the spot as I bent over his body and cried.
He was gone.
I felt cheated.
Having someone you cared for torn away from you so suddenly, it wasn’t fair.
In the few short months I’d had with him, he’d become a friend, a confidant, a brother and with his goofy boyish grin, he’d buried himself into my heart. He was just a kid. He should be out doing what he loved, wreaking havoc with his friends and arguing with his parents about whether he’d done his homework.
But instead, he’d died alone in a fucking tent at the end of a dead end street.
He didn’t deserve that.
None of us fucking deserved that.
Layla held my hand in hers as we walked toward the church.
Three days, and I’d managed to hold a strong front. Every time I thought of his smile, or heard his voice in my head, the temptation to break down would fill me. I fought it with everything I had, trying to comfort my friends with soft words as they released their own pain.
Kyle wrapped his arm around me and kissed my cheek. The affection was comforting. Kyle had taken Eazy’s death so hard, I was just waiting for the downward spiral to begin. I’d already heard him and Lee arguing at night and waking up this morning to find an empty bottle of rum sitting next to the fire drum had only confirmed my suspicions.
The rest of our crew had stayed home. We wanted to say goodbye, but we didn’t want to draw attention. The handful of us that were still considered runaways had had to leave when the police and ambulance had shown up to investigate and collect Eazy’s body. Daisy, Andre
, and Sketch had to drag me away kicking and screaming.
The police took notes about the attack a few days before, times, dates and places that would easily be able to be matched to video footage that they had at the train station.
Lee said they seemed pretty content with the explanation.
Now here we were. I’d never imagined having to ever step foot inside a church. I remembered learning about God in school, and about all the good he did for people. I’d cursed him ever since, never understanding as a young child what I’d ever done to make him so angry and why he had forced me to live the life I lived.
We took a seat right at the back in the corner, the expansive church filled to the brim with people, young and old.
As people stepped up to the podium and said their piece, it gave me a closer look into Eazy’s life. He was always sweet, one friend mentioning how he had a way with the girls, swooning them at every chance he could get. Another talked about what a fantastic football player he was, the way he pumped up their team and supported every single member.
Tears fell freely now from my eyes as I tucked my face into Kyle’s shoulder, Layla doing the same to Lee as they both sobbed quietly.
When his parents stepped up to the stand, I felt a sudden wave of anger flow through my body. Kyle’s body tensed underneath me, and for a moment, I was almost scared of what he would do.
The woman sniffled softly and blotted at her barely puffy eyes. “My baby, I wish I could have done more for you. I wish you’d come to me with your problems so we could’ve worked through it. This is a lesson for everyone, talk to your children, ask them if they’re okay.”
Kyle held me in place even as I pushed against him, wanting to stand and scream at the two people who should have stood by their son in his time of need. Instead, they forced him out onto the street.
And now, he was gone.
Layla threw her arms around me and whispered quiet words in my ear, and I cried loudly for my friend who was gone. Our friend. Our little brother.
The service was over quickly, men and boys shared the responsibility of carrying the coffin from the church. Everyone followed in procession behind it, heads hung and sniffling.
The church was right next to the cemetery where Eazy was being buried. After his coffin had been loaded into the hearse, most people followed behind it down a long paved road that wound through the grave sites.
Kyle and Lee kissed Layla and me on the cheek. “Are you sure you girls want to stay?” Kyle asked, holding my face in his hands.
I nodded. Kyle and Lee had already organized with their uncle to do a trial inside his nightclub in the city. We’d had to take the metro and two buses just to get to this part of town, so they needed to leave now if they were going to make it back in time.
“We’ll be fine,” I whispered softly.
Layla pulled her guitar case over her shoulder so the strap ran across her body. “You guys need to go before you miss your shot at this job.”
Kyle and Lee looked at each other sharing a silent conversation before they finally agreed and disappeared up the road.
Layla and I joined the slow-moving crowd, hanging back a bit as we followed along. We found a tree and sat back against it, as we watched the priest say a few more words and the casket was lowered into the ground. People threw in flowers, whispering their goodbyes and letting their tears fall to the ground alongside him.
As they dispersed, they formed small groups, chatting with each other as dirt was shoveled into the hole. Sadness filled the space, and while losing a loved one was horrible and devastating, it didn’t feel right to remember Eazy this way.
As if Layla read my mind, she placed her guitar over her lap and began to play.
‘7 Years’ by Lukas Graham filled the stale air. It was a sad song, but one about life and learning lessons. Eazy loved it. He was full of surprises, a kid who was both young and vibrant but wise past his years.
I sang along with Layla, my voice wasn’t soft and beautiful like hers, but I didn’t care. This was my parting gift to him.
People turned to watch us, but didn’t speak, just stared in wonder. Some tapped their feet, others smiled and hugged their friends as they swayed to the slow rhythm.
They knew what we knew, that this was him. He was about bettering yourself, and taking risks. He’d got lost somewhere along the way, giving into the darkness and allowing it to consume him. But he wasn’t the only one who’d allowed their path to lead in the wrong direction.
After realizing that he’d hit rock bottom, Eazy fought back with more strength and passion than before and was determined to fight his way back into the world. He filled me with hope, and excitement, about life outside our tents on the backstreet of society.
And now, I was more determined than ever to live my dreams.
For me, and for him. To prove that his friendship and words meant more to me than he will ever know.
As the song wound to an end, people nodded to us, acknowledging our ode to the boy who I never knew had touched so many.
“I want you to leave,” a sharp voice ordered. Eazy’s mom stomped across the grass, her high heels catching in the dirt and flinging it up around her. His father hurried along behind her, his head darting around as he realized the scene that she was making.
I’d held my tongue during the service, but if this woman was going to come at me, I was going to give her some harsh truths that she was not going to like. I pushed to my feet as Layla calmly packed away her guitar, knowing exactly what was about to go down if I was pushed far enough.
“This is my son’s funeral, I will not have it tainted with your disrespect.” Her fake long blonde hair billowed around her with the wind as it began to pick up. Her husband pulled at her arm, but she snatched it away. It was evident who wore the pants here.
I cleared my throat. “I’m surprised you spent so much money on saying goodbye to him. Maybe if you’d spent all this on getting him the help he needed, he’d still be alive.” I didn’t hold any punches. I was disgusted and enraged that this lady would accuse me of tainting his memory.
She lowered her voice now, but people had already taken notice of what was going on and I refused to let her get away with playing the victim. “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”
“We were his friends,” I growled. “We were the people who picked him up off the street when you failed to do your duty as his parent and keep him safe.”
I heard gasps from the crowd. Obviously there were more secrets here than I thought.
“We were the people who cared for him when he was so sick he could barely move,” Layla joined in, throwing her guitar over her shoulder and standing firm at my side.
“We held his hand through the withdrawals, we spent money that we’d made getting him food and water, even though it meant we went another day without eating.” I felt the tears coming now, and I wasn’t ashamed of them. They fell freely, and I didn’t even attempt to wipe them away. “All he needed was support, someone to give a shit and show him that he was better than those fucking little pills.”
Her face screwed up like she’d bitten into a lemon. There was whispering, it flowed freely between groups that huddled, staring at the scene in front of them.
“He was on the streets because of you,” I cried, the dam bursting like never before and a mix of fury and devastation wracking my body. “He didn’t have to be there. All these people, they believed in him, they would’ve supported him no matter what, if you’d just given them a fucking chance. But no, you threw him out like a piece of trash, because you were too damn scared of his mistakes tainting your goddamn reputation!”
Her body flinched and for a second, I thought she might strike out at me. But when her eyes flicked from side to side, I knew she was once again more concerned about how I was making her look rather than listening to the truth about what she’d done.
“Marvin, call the police,” she snapped.
Laughter bubbled up, floating fro
m my mouth, past the erratic sobs. “He’s dead. Because of you. And now everybody knows…” My knees started to shake, the height of my emotions finally taking their toll.
Eazy’s mom took a step forward. “You disgusting little piece of sidewalk filth.”
Her words didn’t sting, I embraced them.
I forced my chin a little higher. “At least… I’m honest… about what I am.”
My legs started to give way, but I felt myself being lifted into two strong arms. I wrapped my legs around the person, tucking my face into their neck, breaking down. He whispered that it would be okay, that I would be okay. Hushed voices and footsteps followed us, and I looked over Heath’s shoulder to see Braydon with his arm around a weeping Layla.
She cuddled into him, wrapping both her arms awkwardly around his waist as they followed behind us.
One of Heath’s hands sat under my bum, holding me up while the other rubbed up and down my back soothingly. “He’s gone,” I whispered painfully.
“I know.” That was all he said, but it was all I needed.
Braydon caught my eye and gave me a sad smile as Heath carried me through the carpark. He stopped for a second, and I heard a beep followed by the car doors clicking open.
I heard the clipping of heels on the concrete as Heath pressed me against the car, using it to help hold me up as he pulled on the door handle.
“Are you taking them to our place?” the woman asked softly.
“Yeah, Mom,” Heath answered as he stepped around the door and deposited me inside with a light brush of his lips against my cheek.
“Okay, I’ll be home soon. Look after them.” Heath didn’t say anything else. Our eyes met as he pulled away, they watched me with worry. I held strong, letting him go even though my body was screaming for him to stay with me. He stepped back and Layla squeezed in after me, diving into my arms.
Braydon and Heath took the two front seats, Heath pulling out of the parking lot with a squeal of the car tires while Layla and I fell to pieces in each other’s arms.
