by Jolene Perry
“I’m so glad you found her,” he whispers.
“Me too,” I whisper back.
The now familiar energy of firsts and newness and like bounces back and forth between us.
“You spend time with your friend. Call me later, okay?”
“Okay.”
He dips his head down and pauses just before we touch. I close the distance and Hartman kisses me twice softly. “See you soon.”
“Soon.”
He kisses my cheek before releasing me. Hartman knows. Bree comes first. Especially now. And he’s okay with it. Aunt Liza was right—he’s a total keeper.
I walk back in the room to see Bree sitting on the edge of the bed in one of Matthew’s T-shirts.
“Oh.” Bree looks down. “I stole it when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Everybody’s crazy worried.”
“How are Jeremy and Theo?” she asks.
“Sounds like Jeremy is good, all things considered. Theo’s still sleeping.”
“I need a shower, and then I want something to help me sleep and not feel so much—at least for a while.”
Mom stops in the doorway. “Come on over to our house. I can help with both of those things.”
Bree nods and lets herself be led from the room in the oversize T-shirt.
“I’m sorry, Bree.”
Her familiar chocolaty eyes rest on mine.
“I’m sorry for not taking time to get to know Bryce or understand and just generally being a brat.”
“Me too. I just wanted to have fun. That’s all…” Her chin starts to quiver again, and she wraps her arms around her waist. “I wonder if this aching will ever end.”
“It will,” Mom promises. “It’ll just take a while.”
I’ve heard a version of this interchange thousands of times in my life, but only now do I actually internalize it. Losing my grandparents still hurts. Sometimes enough to make me stop for a moment. Some days I smile when I think about them, but they’re always there. The idea that I had them in my life, and now I don’t…that’s always there. The second I let myself feel was the second I began to understand Bree. I can’t keep closed off and expect that I’ll help anyone in any kind of real way.
Bryce was a guy who understood things about her that I couldn’t. I hated him for it. I hated him for taking Bree from me. Lots of things. But I’d bring him back in a second, even if it meant that Bree and I weren’t talking.
We are both changed forever.
Chapter 28
After a hot shower and a few of Mom’s sleeping pills, Bree crashes. I’m relieved, exhausted, and unable to sleep. Bored, I head downstairs and jerk open the elevator. Matthew frowns when I enter the embalming room. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
I glance at the overly tanned hand that sticks out from under the sheet. I’m no longer part of my body.
“I can guess this one.”
Matthew’s head cocks to the side. He already knows, of course.
“He died by falling through the floor of the old Tanner Warehouse. Got it right on guess one.”
Matthew’s face falls further. “I’m sorry, Cuz.”
I stare at the hand. “He wasn’t my friend.”
But Bree liked him. That should have meant more to me. Maybe she has every right to be furious. Those thoughts don’t stop my mouth. “If someone gave me a lineup of all the people who went into that warehouse that night and then said one had to die and which one should it be, I’d have chosen him. What does that say about me? About what kind of friend I am?”
Matthew shifts. Folds his arms. Unfolds them. “Um…You’re not a terrible person. Bryce wasn’t good for Bree, yeah? We both know Bree deserves better. And she was your friend, so…” He shrugs. “Maybe that makes you a good friend.”
No. A good friend would have tried harder to see how Bryce made Bree feel. Bryce might still be alive if Bree and I hadn’t been fighting. I might have been able to talk them into doing something different. I wouldn’t have the guilt of leaving for the beach with Hartman.
I think to what Hartman said about how no amount of preplanning or knowledge would have saved his dad. He went to work. He collapsed and died. But Bryce’s death is so different. How many little decisions killed Bryce? How many little decisions of mine led to Bryce dying?
Matthew drags in a long breath. “Why don’t you head back upstairs so I can finish up?”
I step closer.
“Now, get out of here.” He seriously shoos me, rubber gloves and all.
I don’t move.
“I want to see him,” I say.
Matthew steps back but makes no move to uncover him. Maybe I don’t want to see Bryce.
I reach forward and tug the sheet off his face anyway. Matthew’s already set his face, and the embalming fluid has almost made him look alive. I stare and stare and try to find the guy I didn’t like, but he’s just another face of a shell that died too young. Nothing of Bryce is there. This seventeen-year-old boy won’t get to live a life. Seventeen years is not long enough.
“Services for him are in two days,” Matthew says. “Private. Family only.”
“What? That’s not okay. What about the people who were with him that night? What about Bree?”
Matthew shrugs. “I follow orders. Wanted you to know. And…Bree to know.”
I tug the sheet up and drop it back over his face.
“Okay, Gabe. Out.”
I head back up the stairs, but my mind is stuck on Bryce. On how he’s really gone. On how Bree has lost yet another person she cares about.
Finding sleep while my best friend snores on the other side of the room is proving to be more difficult than I originally thought it would be—even after my trip to see Matthew.
Giving up on sleep, again, I roll over, pick up my phone, and send a message to Hartman.
Are you awake?
Yes
Can I call?
Yes!
I hit Call almost immediately.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“Hey,” I whisper back, blinking in the dark and holding my breath to see if Bree will wake up.
“I have a confession.”
There’s enough tease in his voice to make me smile like an idiot. “What?”
“I wasn’t really awake.”
My hand flies to my mouth. “I’m so sorry!”
He chuckles. “I wanted to talk to you. Don’t be sorry.”
Resting on my side, I slowly lie back down.
“So you called,” he says.
“I…” I just realized that everything I’m thinking about right now is sorta dark to be waking someone up in the middle of the night over.
“I’m starting to think you wanted to wake me up for fun.”
“No!” I pause again. “I want to ask you what I should do for Bree.”
“Oh.” There’s a pause where I really hope he’s thinking about it. “Just talk to her, Gabe.”
“What if I don’t know how? What if the wrong thing comes out again? I know the generic lines. That’s it.” But I have gotten to the point where I know how to feel with her, which is maybe already the biggest obstacle.
“Ask her questions about Bryce. About her favorite things about him. Make her feel like even though he’s gone, he’s not gone. I’d have done anything for that after I lost Dad.”
“But he is gone. He was temporary, just like everything.”
Hartman sighs. “My dad will live forever. I’m not saying that in a religious sense. I’m saying that because I will always remember my dad. I’ll remember him until I die. And for me, that’s what’s important. My forever is his forever too. And I might have kids one day, and they’ll carry part of me with them. We’re all forever.”
I shake my head, which is stupid because we’re on the phone.
“You there?” he asks.
“Everything is temporary.” I’ve seen it, learned it, and lived it.
“And what does that mean to you?” he
asks.
“That maybe we put effort into things we shouldn’t. Everything ends.” I shift under my blankets, pulling them just under my chin.
“Do you know what it’s starting to mean to me? And the more I think about it—life and death and everything else?”
“Hmm?” I let my eyes fall closed.
“Because after my dad, I never wanted to feel sad about anything else, but then watching my mom and watching you and Bree, I realized that’s inevitable. Knowing there’s sadness out there, and trying to stay away from it, doesn’t mean it won’t find us.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” I ask.
“Yes. Because there’s something to be learned from every moment. Even the sucky ones. And even the great ones, like the one we’re having right now on the phone.”
My cheeks warm. “What do you miss most about your dad?” I ask. I can do this. This is what he said he wanted. What Bree would want. I’m practicing, but I also really do want to know.
“You sure you want to hear this?” he asks.
“You don’t have to share, but yeah.”
“I miss that he was always ready to give advice, but wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t take it. I miss that he did everything in his power to be at any major school event. And I love that he’d come home sometimes and just say, ‘Happy Wednesday everybody! Let’s go out to dinner!’”
I’m smiling at the exuberance in Hartman’s words, but the horrible part of me wonders—how can you think your dad will live forever if when you die, you take those memories with you? “I sometimes wish it was forever. Life was.”
“Forevers are personal, Gabe. My father’s existence may not matter to a star a million miles away, or even to someone else who lived on my street. But my father’s life was so much to me. The way I live my life will always be influenced by knowing him. So, in my world, my father is forever. In my world, that time we spent on the beach is forever. I will never forget that. Forevers are everywhere.”
“You’re full of interesting insights and adult speak,” I say.
“Good,” he says quietly.
“Good.”
“And now that we’ve met, and that I like you…you’re a part of me. Whether we stay together or not, you’ll always be the girl who helped me feel better about my dad without realizing it, and the girl who kissed my cheek even after I disappeared for a few days.”
I grin. “And Bree will be my forever because we’ll always be friends.”
“But she’s part of your experience, even if your friendship ended tomorrow. You’d always remember Bree as the girl who you shopped with and who you shared a love of vintage with and who you Internetted with.”
“I don’t think Internetted is a word.”
“But it should be.” He chuckles.
“It totally should.”
“So everything lasts forever. Even made-up things,” he says.
“I like this.” Every person and experience can be a forever thing, just maybe not the way we expect it to.
We sit on the phone in silence. I’m not sure what else I want to tell him, but I do know I’m not ready to be alone.
“Will you be at school tomorrow?” he asks.
“I’m not sure.”
“When you’re ready to go back, can I give you a ride?” he asks.
“So, is this where my life settles back into routine?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because Bryce isn’t buried. Because Bree still has a lot going on. Because you have more to sort out in your head than you think you do. Because routines are overrated, and once we find them, we’re thrown back out. Best to embrace the chaos.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he’s right. “Normal is boring anyway.”
He laughs a little. “Night, Gabe.”
“Night, Hartman.” I close my eyes as I end the call and let out a long sigh.
Chapter 29
My argument of not going back to school is met with blank stares from my parents, and then my dad cracking a smile and saying, “Nice try.”
School is bearable only because Hartman’s here. Both Jessica and Meghan seek me out first thing. Jeremy and Theo won’t come back this year, but they’re alive and doing better every day.
“I just want home,” Meghan says as she flops against the locker near mine. “People ask the most horrible things.”
“Just don’t answer,” I say, a bit amazed that she’s still talking to me. I was just her driver for a night, but today she sought me out like we’re friends.
Both girls look at me, and I take a half step back.
“No, that’s good.” Jessica holds her books more tightly against her chest. “I mean, I can’t even think about that night without my body going cold, and…”
“I keep seeing them fall through the floor, and my stomach drops again.” Meghan closes her eyes.
“So. Stony looks of coldness then?” I ask. “Or maybe we can just say we’re not ready to talk about it.” They’re including me even though I wasn’t there when the group needed me.
This is the same feeling I had when Bree first came to my house in seventh grade—possibility. Excitement.
“I like that.” Jessica nods.
“Me too.” Meghan nods as well.
“How’s Bree?” Jessica asks.
One person should never have to deal with so much. “She’s been better. She’s going to stay with me for…for a while, I guess.”
Meghan rolls her eyes. “Her parents are such assholes. My dad moved out two years ago and married a woman who was five when I was born, so I’ve been through the parental midlife crisis,” she says. “It’s ridiculous. Harder when—” Her eyes drop to the floor.
“What?”
“I think Bree was jealous of how great your family is. She talked you up a lot, you know.”
“Oh.” I’ve always looked at Bree as the brighter, smarter, better, and cooler of the two of us.
These girls were friends to Bree when Bree and I weren’t so close. I want to hug them for it instead of being jealous.
“See you at lunch?” Meghan asks me.
“I’ll be with Hartman.”
“Great. So we’ll see both of you then,” Jessica says before she and Meghan walk away.
Hartman stops next to me and squeezes my shoulder. I lean back, letting my body fall against his. It’s almost scary how easy it is to be around him. Maybe just because it became easy so fast.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says into my hair.
I turn and lean into him again. “I’m glad I’m here too.”
Only, as the day progresses, I wished more than once that I wasn’t at school. The rumors are insane.
They were playing Truth or Dare, and Bryce lured the others guys to where they knew it wasn’t safe…Jessica doesn’t want to be with Jeremy anymore so she led the guys onto the floor…Bryce was the nicest ever…What a tragedy…
Freshmen cry in class over a guy they’d never met, and if they had exchanged words with him, it probably was him throwing an insult their way. There are hand-drawn posters on the wall, pictures of Bryce.
The counselor comes over the intercom to say she’ll meet with any students having a hard time dealing with Bryce’s death.
If a new student were to walk through my school today, they would think that Bryce was some kind of hero philanthropist instead of the guy most likely to shove someone in a trash can. Just because I’m starting to understand what he did for my friend doesn’t mean I’ll remember him differently. It also doesn’t mean he deserved to die.
By sixth period, I feel like a grenade with the pin half pulled—one wrong word or phrase…Boom.
Jessica stops next to my locker, her backpack over her back. “I signed us out of school. Had my mom call to say that we were all going to her therapist for a grief-counseling session.”
“Oh,” I say.
Hartman chuckles. “Good.”
“We
need out,” Meghan adds. “After you check on Bree, call us, okay?”
I nod.
“And maybe we can get together today or tomorrow?” Jessica asks.
I’m nodding again because my body apparently now only does one thing. “I’ll go chat with Bree and let you know.”
“Do you need a ride?” Meghan asks.
“If she’s okay with it, I got her.” Hartman gives me a squeeze.
I glance up at him before looking back toward the two girls. “I’ll go with Hartman, but thanks.”
“Let us know when we all want to get together.”
“Yeah…okay…” We’re going to end up as friends.
Jessica and Meghan walk up the hall, and instead of pulling out my English text for sixth period, I start packing my bag.
“Look at you with friends, Gabe.” Hartman kisses my cheek with a smile.
I shut my locker and hoist my pack on my back. “Who knew that anyone could like the girl armed with sarcasm to protect her cold, cold heart?”
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing. My cousin.” Who was only half right. But I’m changing all the time. I hope for the better.
Hartman’s car stops in the parking lot in front of my house, but neither of us moves. Energy zaps between us, and I shift in my seat twice to keep myself from leaping over the car and attacking him with kisses.
I’ve turned into someone new.
His fingers slide through mine. “You with me, Gabe?” he teases.
“I’d really like to kiss you.”
He leans forward.
I lean forward.
His thin fingers stroke my cheek before his lips touch mine. I know more what I’m doing now, so after two small kisses, we’re locked for a moment. Or two. Or several.
When people start kissing, how do they stop? I reach out for him, but with the center console, it’s an awkward stretch.
Hartman breaks away first, and scoots back slightly. He nods a few times with a partial smile and flushed cheeks.
My cheeks are on fire, so I turn and push out of the car before he can comment. Hartman jerks to attention and sprints around, but I’m already out.
His hand touches my shoulder.
