The Saddest Song - By Susie Kaye Lopez Page 0,6

you take the pie out when the timer goes off?” Without waiting for our answer, she headed for the stairs and I looked at Max.

Shrugging, he said, “They can’t stand to be apart from each other, or me, for too long.”

“Will we ever be okay?” I asked, but instead of answering, Max just stared into my eyes. I knew we were both afraid of the answer.

After choking down a piece of pie and a glass of milk, Max and I excused ourselves and went upstairs. The twins’ each had their own room, joined by a bathroom that they shared. Max’s room was full of guitars, a keyboard, and recording equipment, his walls covered in the vintage album covers that he collected. Garrett’s room had an oversized beanbag chair in front of his massive collection of video games and several systems to play them on. On his walls he had specially built shelves to hold all his Football and Baseball trophies. Mixed in amongst them were all the same framed dance pictures of the two of us that sat on my shelves.

I stood in the doorway and looked for clues of some sort that would tell me Garrett would never be back. His clean laundry was stacked on the corner of his navy plaid bedspread, waiting for him to put it away. A large bag of M&M’s held closed with a blue paperclip were on his nightstand. M&M’s were Garrett’s favorite food, and he always kept a stash of them nearby. Last Valentine’s Day I had snuck over and wrote “I Love You” in red ones across his bed. If Garrett were here now he would have taken the bag of candy, plopped down on his beanbag chair, pulled me into his lap, and we would have taken turns popping them into each others’ mouths. We would have shared chocolaty kisses and…my mind stopped my thoughts. It was too disturbing to go there. This was it. The last bag of M&M’s forever. I slowly walked into the room and reached out for them.

“Can I have these?” I asked Max.

“You’re hungry?”

“No, not at all. I just want to keep them.”

“Oh, I see. Sure, take them.” He was silent for a moment and then asked, “Do you feel him?”

I shook my head. “No, I feel his absence. He feels completely gone.”

“He is,” Max said quietly.

I held the candy bag to my chest like I was cradling a kitten, and followed Max into his room. He turned on some old music. We sat down on the black futon where Max usually played his guitar, and I rested my head on his shoulder. Neither of us moved for what felt like hours, until Mrs. McKinley forced us downstairs for a lunch of one of the sympathy casseroles. I managed to take a few bites, but mostly just pushed it around my plate. No one said anything because they were all doing the same. Afterwards, I thanked them and said I would come back in the morning. I headed home, the M&M’s clutched in my hand.

Max

I felt uncontrollably lonely when Rainey left. We hadn’t done much all day except sit in my room and listen to music, each of us content to keep the other company. It was enough. Sharing grief didn’t make it easier, but it made it bearable. Bearable was all I could hope for. Being alone just sucked. Mom and dad clung together in a way they hadn’t before the accident. Usually in his free time, my dad would tinker in the garage or go to the gym, while mom would work in her garden or read a book. Now they sat quietly in the family room, the TV on but not being watched. Their familiar teasing and bickering had been replaced by an obscene politeness. That was of course if they even spoke at all. Their behavior weirded me out, so I stayed in my room most of the time.

I wished Garrett could tell me how to fix them. I needed some direction. I walked back into his room and started to sit down on his bean bag chair when I stopped abruptly. Nobody had sat there since Garrett and it was still molded to the shape of his body. I closed my eyes and tried to picture him sitting there playing his video games, something he did constantly. But hard as I tried, I couldn’t see him anymore. I stood there, the heavy reality of his death saturating my soul and