by Laura Ward
Taren covered her face with her hands. “For the love of God, Jules. Control yourself. You don’t need to switch teams for this guy. And no one needs to see anything come out of your ass.” They both continued to laugh as they settled back down on the floor, our books scattered around us.
They looked so lighthearted. So happy. And all I could think of was all the dark, sad things I kept to myself. At that moment it hit me hard that they didn’t really know me. They didn’t know what kept me up at night or drove me to work hard in my classes. They didn’t know about all the times I snuck off to cry by myself. They didn’t know that I felt so alone. And it was all my fault.
I wrapped my arms around my legs, pressing my forehead on my bent knees. Why had I been trying so hard to keep them out? Would it be so bad if they knew all my deepest, darkest secrets? Why was I acting like I was ashamed of my summer with Liam?
“Lex?” Julie stopped laughing and crawled across the floor to me. She rested her hand on my back. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Alexis.” Taren spoke into my ear, her arm around my shoulders. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
I sniffled but refused to look up. “Because I’m hurting. And I’m so tired of trying to hide the fact that I’m hurting. I want to be able to laugh and be carefree and be close with both of you. I want you to know the real me, even the ugly parts. Especially the imperfect parts,” I added, lifting my eyes to Julie.
Julie looked at Taren, her face as serious as I had ever seen it. “Then tell us. You know we’ll be here for you no matter what.”
I nodded. They each held one of my hands, and I started the only way I knew.
“Almost two years ago my sister, Sam, died in a car crash…”
***
A bag of Twizzlers, two bags of Doritos, and approximately one thousand peanut butter cup wrappers were scattered around us.
“It’s official. We ate our feelings.” Julie sniffled and folded another Twizzler into her mouth.
“There was no other choice to make.” Taren wiped her hands on a napkin and then moved to sit next to me, thigh pressed to thigh. “I can’t believe how much you’ve gone through. God, Lex. I’m so sorry.”
My confession took nearly two hours, but I got it all out. I told them every detail of my life since Sam died. They were shocked. They cried with me. They got pissed for me. And then they just… loved me. They loved me through it all. I felt stronger and more whole than I had since Liam left my life.
“Thanks for listening. I’m sorry it took me so long, but you both—and college in general—have been my escape. I guess I just didn’t want to mix the sad parts with the happy parts. That’s why I never wanted to tell you. As my dad gets worse, though, I realize there is no more escaping. I don’t think I can get through this alone. My mom is a wreck, and so am I.” I rested my head on Taren’s shoulder. I was too wiped to shed any more tears. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive.”
Julie squeezed my hand. “You’ve got us. We’re sisters, and we love you, girl.”
I loved them too.
***
“I hate dining hall food. Why are we here?” Julie lifted her nose into the air and sniffed as we looked for a table.
I linked arms with her and Taren. “It’s Stacy’s birthday, and I have a gift for her.”
“That guy, Gary, I dated last week took me to the dining hall for a date. He ordered cookies. Ate like that big blue puppet, Cookie Monster. Friggin’. Crumbs. Were. Everywhere. Needless to say, we’re done.” Julie shrugged as Taren and I rolled our eyes at her. “Seriously, we couldn’t have met somewhere with better food?” Julie’s eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance as we wove our way around tables.
“Stacy works here, and she asked me to come visit her today,” I explained.
Julie stopped and lifted her nose into the air to sniff again. “Wait a minute. I smell corn dogs. Never mind. I approve. Dining hall it is.”
Taren pointed to an empty table, and we headed in that direction. “That’s sweet that you’re so close with Stacy,” she said. “I feel the same way about William. Doing the Good Buddies program has been so rewarding.”
Julie made a sound of annoyance. “Whatever. That’s because you don’t have to do paperwork every damn week.”
I scrunched my nose in apology. “Kate hasn’t found you a buddy yet?”
Julie rolled her eyes. “No. Just more paperwork.”
We sat down, peeling off our winter coats and dumping backpacks on the floor.
“I’m going to load up on food. Be back in a few.” Julie headed to the food station, swiping a tray off the stack near the doorway as she passed.
I looked around for Stacy and caught a glimpse of her across the room, clearing trash off tables and then wiping them down with a rag. I waved, and her smile was enormous in return.
She emptied the trash on her cart and walked to our table. “I am going to wash my hands. I will be right back,” she announced before heading into the restroom.
“I should introduce her to William,” Taren said when Stacy was out of earshot.
“I don’t know.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julie returning with a loaded tray. “Her dad doesn’t allow her to date.”
Taren raised one eyebrow. “Uh, they could be friends, Lex. You know, like you and Asher.” She winked, and I wrinkled my nose in return.
She was teasing, but I worried about Asher and the way our relationship was changing. I’d made it clear to him that I wasn’t interested in a relationship, but he made comments sometimes that made me think he wanted more. He didn’t date anyone else or, as far as I knew, hook up with any other girls no matter how many times Pickles suggested it. I wished he would. That way our friendship could go back to the way it was when we first met. Easy. Uncomplicated. No expectations. Whenever I suggested that Asher should date around, though, he was always defensive.
I should just cut him loose completely. I knew we didn’t want the same thing anymore, and I wasn’t being fair. I was holding on to him when I knew there wasn’t a future for us. It was like getting the milk for free with no intention of ever buying the cow.
Jesus. Did I just compare Asher to a farm animal? What was wrong with me?
Before I could respond to Taren’s comment, four corn dogs, a plate of loaded mashed potatoes, a basket of onion rings, and four cups of soda were placed in the middle of the table.
“Hungry, Jules?” Taren teased, stealing an onion ring from the pile.
Julie took a huge bite from one of the corn dogs. “Eat up. I got enough for everyone.” She spoke through a mouthful of highly processed, questionable meat product.
“I love corn dogs!” Stacy pulled out a chair and joined us.
Julie handed her a corn dog. “Happy Stacy Day!”
Stacy grinned at the use of her name. “Thank you!” She took a bite, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
I pulled a box from my backpack and slid it across the table to her. “Happy birthday!”
She placed her corn dog on a napkin and used another to wipe her fingers. “Thank you, Lex.”
She carefully pulled the tape away from the wrapper, opening the box without tearing any of the bright blue paper. She lifted the top of the box, and her mouth formed an O shape. “This is so beautiful!” She pulled out a hair clip with a jeweled rainbow on it. She reached up, fastening it onto her hair.
“That’s so pretty on you, Stacy.” Taren smiled, looking between us. Julie nodded as she plowed her way through the mashed potatoes.
“Lex says I remind her of rainbows.” Stacy grinned again, looking shy. “I started a collection of rainbow things last week. So this is perfect.”
“Why does Stacy remind you of rainbows, Lex?” Julie managed to ask after swallowing her spuds.
I opened my mouth to answer, but Stacy beat me to it. “Because I dress like a rainbow. And Lex loves rainbows because she chased them with her sister and her dad. And you know since her sis
ter died, and her dad got sick, and Liam joined the Army, rainbows make her happy. So I like being her rainbow.” Stacy took another bite of her corn dog.
Julie had started in on her second corn dog. Excuse me. MY corn dog. She paused mid-bite and looked at Taren, and then me, and finally at Stacy. “Exactly when,” she pointed her mangled stick of meat at Stacy’s face, “did our dear Lex tell you about her sister, and Liam, and her dad?”
Uh oh. Crappola.
Stacy scrunched her face, her eyes focused on the ceiling. “When we met. In October.” She grinned and took another bite.
A corn dog waved in front of my face. “Why did she get to know before us?” Julie glared, but there was a twinkle in her eye. I think she was happy I had someone to talk to when I needed it.
I sat back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Stacy McGee is the coolest girl I know.” I grabbed the corn dog from Julie and took a bite, watching her jaw drop in food-theft horror. “Much cooler than you, Julie Prescott.”
Taren high-fived Stacy, and Julie threw a napkin at my head. I had three girls that I trusted with the hardest and most painful parts of my life. In their own ways, they made the pain a little less raw.
It was Stacy’s birthday, but I was the one who been given the best gift of all.
Thanks for the signs, Sam. All three of them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“That’s a lovely scarf, Alexis.” Dad gestured to the colorful scarf wrapped around my neck in an infinity style. I held my dad’s hand as we left Scoops, and even though it was a motion I’d done a thousand times as a kid, it was different now. Back then I held his hand so he could keep me safe. Now it was me holding him steady, making sure he didn’t fall as we made our way down Main Street. The cemetery was within walking distance, but I still wished he would have let me drive him there.
“It’s from you and Mom.” I grinned up at him. “You sent it before midterms.” Dad’s mind was as sharp as ever, but he was a man, and I didn’t expect him to remember every small gift he sent to me. Especially ones he didn’t pick out himself.
“Oh, right. Of course.” His grin was sheepish, and we both laughed. As we walked along the street, he leaned against me, and I felt his body shake. We inched along the sidewalk, and I looked up to check on him. A light sheen of sweat covered his face. He was pale, almost gray, and his face was gaunt. He inhaled a shaky breath, and I held back my tears. The Dad I had always known was gone.
The past few months had flown by. I was more alive than I had been since I went away to school because of my girls, but as each day passed, I knew I was losing time with my dad. I hated that Sam was taken away so quickly and brutally, but this was almost worse. Sometimes it was like I was watching cancer devour him, taking every ounce of pride he had with each scrap of health it tore away from him. The disease was steadily stealing bits of his dignity only to leave him with his mind completely intact so that he would suffer even more as his body failed him.
I hated leukemia.
I hated death.
I hated loss.
Slowly but surely, we made our way to Sam’s bench and sat down side by side. A new batch of colorful flowers had been left in the vase on her headstone. They were so bright and vivid it looked as if someone had taken a bunch of white roses and swiped them through a painter’s palate.
“I love that you put such pretty flowers here. Sam would adore it. They’re so her.”
I could feel my dad nodding beside me, and he reached over to grab my hand again. “She would love them,” he agreed. “I wish I could take credit for them.”
My eyebrows dipped low in confusion as I looked over at him. “Every time I come here, there are flowers here. I thought it was you. You sure Mom didn’t leave these?”
He shook his head.
“Then who?”
He lifted his eyes to mine and gave me a small smile. “Sam was loved by everyone she ever met. Could be just about anyone.”
I took a deep breath. “True.”
“But,” he said, leaning over to pull out one of the roses that was still white, untouched by color. “Not everyone would keep this vase full.”
“What do you mean?”
He twirled the flower between his fingers, watching as the petals turned into a blur of white as it spun back and forth. “I come here a lot. It’s not just your thinking spot, you know.” He winked at me, and I mustered up a small smile in return. “When the flowers die, I throw them away. Next time I come, there are always new ones.”
“I don’t understand,” I admitted. I looked again at Sam’s headstone and marveled at how beautiful it was with the flowers. Just as colorful and vibrant as my memories of her.
“I don’t understand either, although I feel these flowers aren’t necessarily for Sam but for those who love her. So that when we visit we don’t see a dark, lonely grave. We find a quiet place to rest and beauty to appreciate as we think about her. This isn’t a place to grieve over what we lost but a place to reflect on what we had.”
Grieve over what we lost? Reflect on what we had? It was hard to swallow past the lump in my throat. How could he talk so calmly, knowing that maybe just a few months from now I’d be sitting at another grave without him by my side? Marveling at the flowers someone had left for him.
“Dad…” My voice wavered so much on that one syllable I was surprised I managed to say it at all.
He stood up shakily, pulling me to my feet as well. “Come. I want to show you something.”
Curious, I followed. We walked deeper into the cemetery to a part I’d never been to but along a path he knew by heart. When he stopped at a headstone, I dropped my eyes down to read it and nearly collapsed to the ground when I saw the inscription.
Declan Murphy.
Why had he brought me to Declan’s grave?
I trembled as I stared at the name of the boy who killed my sister and the series of numbers underneath. The first date was an unfamiliar one, but the second one was a collection of numbers that could only ever mean heartbreak to me. I stared down at the engraving, my eyes blurring with tears of rage and… sadness. I expected to feel hatred, but I didn’t.
There was a vase attached to Declan’s headstone, and inside was one single white flower. Dad bent over, holding the rose that he’d taken from Sam’s bouquet, and slipped it next to the one sitting lonely and forlorn in the vase.
I didn’t understand. Who left just one flower? And how could Dad leave a part of Sam with Declan? Why did he bring me here? What did he expect me to do aside from fall apart?
There were tears streaming down my face and sobs clawing through my chest.
Dad slipped his arm around me, and when I buried my face into his shoulder, he was no longer the shadow of a man who was losing a battle. He was the hero who was showing me that pain and grief weren’t mine alone.
“It has taken me a long time to accept the fact that a bad decision doesn’t necessarily mean that the person is bad.” He tightened his arm around me, and I closed my eyes, unable to look at the two lonely flowers in the vase.
“Do you… do you forgive him?” I choked out. I wasn’t sure what I wanted or expected him to say. I was scared to hear either answer.
Dad rubbed his hand over my shoulder. “I’ve forgiven myself for the hate I felt toward him. He… Declan wasn’t a villain, even though for a while I found satisfaction in making him one. Losing Sam was hard, and I wanted to blame someone.”
“But it was his fault. The accident. It was his fault.” I clung to the accusation; that belief was the only thread that was holding me together.
Dad sighed. “Yes. And things would have been different if Sam hadn’t given him the keys. Or if she had decided to not get in the car with him.”
Tears burned my eyes, the back of my throat. “Are you blaming her?” I whispered.
“Of course not.” His voice broke. He folded me against him, and I couldn’t tell which of us was h
olding the other up anymore. “I’m not blaming anyone. I want to forgive him. Maybe I’m not quite there yet, but I’m working on it.” He leaned over to press a kiss to the top of my head. “He has family too. People who loved him. Every time I come here I can see how much harder it is for them to grieve than it is for us.”
“That’s not possible. Sam was amazing.” I mumbled against his chest. “How could it possibly be harder?” I cried.
“Because,” he said, smoothing my hair down my back. “Sam’s grave is covered in beauty and color and love. And this…” He released his grip on me and lifted my chin so I could see the spot at our feet. “This is a symbol of a family who wants to mourn but feels they can’t because their loved one killed our loved one.”
“You can’t know that for sure,” I whispered.
“Oh, but I do.”
I expected him to explain how he could know something so personal, but he didn’t. I’d never talked to him about Liam and me. I’d never told him about Liam’s family. As far as I knew, he’d never met Declan’s parents or brother. So how could he know how they felt? I didn’t even know how Liam felt about Declan.
And that thought rocked me so hard I almost buckled under the power of it. I’d never even asked Liam about Declan or his pain or how he felt. It had always been about me and Sam and my family and my grief. Even after I knew his brother had died too, I never asked him about his loss.
I let go of my Dad and sank to the ground on my knees in front of Declan’s headstone. Dad’s hand reached down to rest on the top of my head.
“I’m trying hard to forgive. I think my illness has given me clarity,” he said. “I started thinking about my death—”
“Dad,” I pleaded.
“—and I realized I don’t want you to live the rest of your life hating that I died. I want you to spend it loving that I lived.”
Sam…
***
“It is a good thing you are smart because you are terrible at races.” Stacy took a long pull on her milkshake as she walked around my room.
