tried to talk to me, but I shook him off. “You don’t get it.”
“Then tell me!”
I wanted to tell him, tell him everything. What would he think? The thought of losing my friends to the truth twisted my gut. My secrets needed to stay secret. I unlocked the van and cringed at the sight of the twisted metal. “I mean, Haley needs her family right now. Visitors aren’t allowed. They kicked me out.” The lie came easily. “We’ll come back later.”
But I’d never come back. I didn’t deserve to visit or to comfort her. I deserved prison or worse. Either way our relationship was over. Her love for me would die the second she found out my part in this.
It was better we drifted apart, and she never learned the truth.
The next two days passed in a blur. People entered the room and talked at me. They left and their words slowly slipped away, only random thoughts repeating in my mind, until there was nothing. Dad and Mom rarely left my side. The nurse refused to leave until I ate the cafeteria food. I swallowed it down but tasted nothing but cardboard.
Noah visited and gave me a sad smile, like he understood. He was the only one who didn’t throw stupid false promises at me. That was because he knew my life had changed. Forever. No rewind. No do-over.
Flowers and cards flooded into the room constantly. Stuffed animals. The smell was overpowering and all the cheeriness made me feel sick. Finally, after learning her name was Doris, I told the nurse how I felt. I asked her to take them all away. Throw them in the dumpster. She suggested the stuffed animals go to the kids in the cancer wing. I nodded yes, immediately feeling selfish and worse. I lived while kids in this hospital were dying. They’d give anything to know they’d leave and continue breathing. When all I wanted was to shrivel up and die.
After observation for two nights, they allowed me to go home. But I didn’t want to because then I’d have to face my life. But I went through the motions. I slipped into the jeans and a T-shirt Mom brought for me. I tried for her sake because she was worried. I hugged Doris goodbye. On the way out, they suggested grief counseling. My parents signed me up for at least a month.
Then we were in the car and the familiar sights of our town rushed past. For two days I’d focused on Brin and Kama. But deep down what caused the ache to turn to a throb was the fact that Seth never came to visit. Not once. And I had no idea why. He wasn’t like that. We fought but he was always there for me and would never just not show up.
The next couple of days were surreal. I’d missed graduation so a part of me felt like I got sucked into a wormhole. Like graduation would be next weekend. Mom kept a close eye on me, asking what I needed, bringing me snacks, making all my favorite foods, but she was exhausted. She entered one morning with breakfast in bed. French toast with powdered sugar.
“Mom,” I said.
She set up the tray in my bed and kept talking about the weather. The sunshine. The warmth. The budding flowers.
“Mom!” I said louder.
She stopped and sat on the edge of the bed. Dark circles shadowed her eyes and her hair frizzed out around her face.
“It’s okay. You can stop the special treatment.”
Tears brimmed her eyes, and she stumbled over words before getting a full sentence out. “We want to make sure you’re okay.” She knew better than to ask how I was doing every five minutes. “Your friends from school have called. A girl named Justine wants to stop by.”
“Seth?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Where is he?” But then I caught myself. I couldn’t feel sorry for myself just because Seth hadn’t stopped by once. My friends were dead. “Never mind. I don’t care.”
Mom paused and from experience I knew she wanted to talk about something.
“What?” I asked.
She rubbed the top of my hand. “The funeral and memorial service are tomorrow.”
The question behind her words hung in the air. Horror rushed up and stole my breath. “I can’t go. I can’t go. I can’t go.” Panic rose, threatening to suck me under.
She set the tray aside and pulled me to her. “Shh. It’s okay. You don’t have to. I just