Authors: Casey Lawrence
“I see they got you white roses,” I said conversationally, resting one hand on the edge of the casket. The makeup artist had done a better job masking the look of death on Jessa’s face; her skin looked less waxy than Ricky’s, perhaps due to her darker complexion. Her lips were done in a pale pink lipstick and her eyelashes fanned out over her cheeks. They’d even painted her nails white.
“I don’t know if I believe in Heaven, but I know that you do, so I know that you’re at peace. I put out some prayers for your soul, but I wasn’t quite sure how to do it. I know your God heard me, though, because you said He hears everyone’s prayers. I prayed that you were safe and happy with Him. I wish you were safe and happy here with us, because I’m selfish, and I miss you so much. I love you, Jessa. Good-bye.”
I stepped away from the casket and had to snort back a ridiculous amount of snot. My nose was running quite heavily, and my sleeves were damp with tears as I wiped them away. I kept the back of my wrist up to my nose to stem the running as I stepped up to the last casket, the one with Kate inside it.
Kate was dressed in a navy dress I’d never seen her wear in real life, with a button-up front and a little line of white lace around the collar. It was simple and casual, something she might’ve worn to the mall or out for coffee. Her hands were clasped around a little bouquet of baby’s breath and heather. Whoever had put together the arrangement knew her very well. Everyone thought she was flashy and loud, but that Kate was all for show. The real Kate looked like this, simple and wholesome.
“We made plans for the Fourth of July. I won’t be going to that party without you, even though I have a feeling you would’ve wanted me to.” A tiny, hysterical laugh escaped my lips for just a moment. I sobered quickly, ashamed by my lapse in solemnity. “I don’t even know how I’m going to be able to pack my stuff and go off to school in the fall. I don’t want to leave you behind.”
I had to resist the urge to touch her hand, knowing how cold it would be. The last time I’d touched her, she’d still been warm. I’d closed her eyes; I wanted that to be the last touch I gave her, not a cold touch to her hand.
“I know you were worried about what would happen to us when we went off to college. I like to think we might’ve been able to go out on a real date. Even if it didn’t work out, I would have been your friend anyway, forever. We would have made that work no matter what because you were so important to me. I will always be your friend, and I love you. I miss you.” I choked and covered my mouth with both hands, hyperventilating. How I could hold it together through Ricky and Jessa I couldn’t fathom, because with every breath my chest felt like it was ripping apart.
“You guys not being here is tearing me apart,” I managed to choke out, gasping like I needed Ricky’s inhaler. “I miss you all so much. I want to
scream
.”
I stood there over Kate’s casket with my eyes closed for what felt like only a few seconds but could have been a long time. A hand touched my shoulder, and I jumped. It was Kate’s mother, wearing a black cocktail dress I recognized from Kate’s closet. Borrowed from the dead; she wouldn’t miss it now.
“Look at us,” she said, gesturing between the three of us sagely. “You and I are a mess, and she looks gorgeous.” I patted my face with damp sleeves to remove some of the tears from my face, but it probably didn’t do much good. Amanda Barrett didn’t look like she had a hair out of place. Her makeup was perfect; waterproof, I assume, because there was no way she hadn’t cried at the funeral of her only daughter.
“Her brother picked out the dress and the flowers. She’d just bought that, never got a chance to wear it.” I nodded, unable to imagine speaking. “Dustin’s been my rock through all this.” She rubbed my shoulder slowly, as though she didn’t know she was doing it. “Where would I be without him?”
I kept nodding, desperately wanting to get away from Amanda Barrett. I felt like a bobble head on a car dashboard.
“I should go wash up,” I said, vaguely gesturing toward the exit to the church, where a little hallway led to the bathrooms.
“Yes, yes, good idea,” Amanda sighed, petting my hair. It caught in her long, fake nails and I held my breath so as not to flinch away from her touch, not daring to be rude. “They’re just about to load up the hearses, better clean yourself up before the burial.”
I ducked out from under her arm and, wrapping my arms around myself, hurried off to the bathroom. The ladies’ bathroom was only large enough for a single person, with a big, heavy wooden door that locked from the inside. The floor was the same polished wood as the rest of the church, and the fixtures were old but well maintained. A round, stained-glass window was set high into the wall: an angel surrounded by sunbeams casting sparkling yellow and green light around the small room.
I went about setting right my face, splashing it first with cold water and then patting it dry with a paper towel. The heat and the stress were getting to me, and the sight of my friends dressed up for their burials pushed me over the edge. I blew my nose and dabbed under it, trying to stop the steady flow of liquid snot before it gathered on my upper lip.
I paced around the tiny bathroom, counting my footsteps and the beats of my racing heart. The panic was creeping under my skin again, itching and clawing its way to my throat. I couldn’t help it. I began to hyperventilate, pressing a snot-soaked paper towel over my mouth and nose.
Come on, Corinna, you can’t panic now. Not today.
One two three breathe in, one two three breathe out. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I clenched and unclenched my fists at my sides; pulled my hair into a ponytail and then let it down again; rolled my damp sleeves up to the elbow and then unrolled them again, pulling them past my fingertips.
“A few more hours,” I said, and then again, like a mantra: “A few more hours. A few more hours.” Then I could go back to my room. I could get out of this dress. I could hide away in my bed. I could cry and scream all I wanted. In a few more hours, it would all be over.
A sudden knock at the huge wooden door made me jump, heart racing. “Corey? You still in there?”
The rush of panic ebbed. It was Brandon.
I opened the door without bothering to look in the mirror, and instantly regretted it. “Oh man, come here.” Brandon’s long arms folded around me like a cocoon as the bathroom door swung shut again with a heavy thud. “You look awful. Just breathe, okay.”
I tentatively put my arms around his waist and then, feeling how sturdy he was, fell into him, tears flowing freely.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been returning your calls,” I said, burying my fingers in his suit jacket and holding on for dear life.
He leaned away from me so that I couldn’t hide my face in his chest and reached one of his monkey arms across the bathroom to grab a handful of paper towels. He dabbed at my eyes with one hand while holding me to his chest with the other.
“Don’t even worry about it,” he was saying as he cleaned my face. I was reminded of Ricky’s breakdown after Mike broke it off, how I had done for her what Brandon was doing for me. “Your parents were looking for you to get going, but I said I’d drive you. I wanted to talk to you—but I get it, y’know. I don’t want to talk to anyone but you, and you might not want to—”
He let me go and threw out the paper towels. He put his hands on my shoulders, brushing my hair off them. I was a doll on a shelf. Handle with care: porcelain is extremely fragile. I was just about ready to crack.
“It’s time to go?” I asked in a small voice, my fingers twisting in my long sleeves. “Already?”
Brandon pulled me to his chest again, hard. “Already,” he echoed, as though saying “all ready,” but I knew that he wasn’t. Already, too soon. We would never be ready for this to happen.
W
HEN
K
ATE
and I returned to the ballroom, an old slow song was playing, but only a few couples were swaying to the music. Almost everyone had chosen to use this lull as a break for aching feet to rest and sweaty bodies to cool off. We found the rest of our group sitting around the table where we had eaten.
“Where
were
you?” Jessa demanded when she spotted us. “They played your favorite song!”
“They haven’t played my favorite song,” Ricky said. I almost laughed at her exaggerated pout; the kind of music Ricky liked was mostly parodies and television theme songs. She was sitting close at Robert’s side, as if she’d pulled her chair closer to his.
Kate and I sat down before we answered. “I had some trouble trying to figure out how to work the tampon dispenser,” Kate said fearlessly, as though daring one of the boys to say something about it.
I would never have been quite so bold, but Kate was a good liar because she made sure that no one ever asked questions about her stories. One time, upon coming in late to a first period class, she’d told the teacher she had diarrhea to get out of a Late Slip. She was ushered to her seat by an embarrassed teacher and the Late Slip never materialized.
Jessa scoffed. “You could have just texted me! I always come prepared for emergencies!”
Everyone knew that Jessa was the go-to girl for feminine hygiene products. Occasionally she even got asked by a shy ninth grader who had heard from a friend who had heard from a friend that Jessa kept pads in her locker.
“You don’t use tampons, though, and with my thong—”
“Okay, okay!” Brandon cut Kate off abruptly, which seemed to be Kate’s plan all along. “Change of topic, shall we? Before somebody dies of embarrassment.”
“It’s a perfectly natural bodily function,” Jessa protested, glaring at her boyfriend as though he had personally offended her. “We should be able to discuss it like adults.”
“We should,” Brandon agreed, leaning in close to her and lowering his voice. “But Robert looks ready to bolt, and Ricky’s face is going to melt off if she blushes any harder.”
Sitting next to him, I could hear his words clearly, but Ricky and Robert wouldn’t have been able to over the music. He wasn’t wrong either. Both halves of the probable soon-to-be-couple looked like flight risks. I took it upon myself to change that.
“What were you guys talking about before we interrupted?” I asked.
“Sean Dobson’s party,” Brandon said, shooting me a small smile of thanks. “He’s doing one last blow-out on the fourth before his family packs up and moves.” Brandon sighed, sounding a little nostalgic as he added: “No more parties at Dobson’s Field. End of an era.”
Under the table, I sought out and found Kate’s hand on her knee, which was bouncing uneasily.
“I want to go,” she said, surprising me greatly. “I’ve heard the Dobsons throw great parties.”
“I want to go too,” Brandon said, smiling winsomely at Kate. “There’ll be fireworks, and the Dobsons have those huge bales of hay at the back of the property that are perfect for lying on to watch them. It’ll be beautiful.”
“And it’s the last high school party we’ll ever be invited to,” Kate added. “Ricky, are you going to be okay if Mike’s there? He and Sean are buddies.”
Ricky nodded her head once. “I’m in if Robert’s in,” she said.
“I’m in,” Robert agreed, and Ricky clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Wait wait,” Jessa said. “Will there be alcohol at this party? Because if you haven’t forgotten, we’re all still underage.”
“Even if there is alcohol, we don’t have to drink it,” I said. “I think we should go as a group. It’ll be fun to all be together after graduation. We might not get the chance again until somebody’s wedding.”
Jessa leaned into Brandon, wrapping her arms around his ribcage. “Okay. But I get dibs on Brandon for cuddling when we watch the fireworks.”
“Aw man,” Brandon said. “Sorry, Robert. Guess you’ll have to find someone else to cuddle.”
Robert spluttered a little, and if he had had paler skin we might’ve been able to see his blush. However, it was just then that the music picked up in speed and volume, the DJ obviously having decided that the break was over.
“So it’s agreed?” Kate yelled over the music. “We’re going to Dobson’s party as a group?”
A chorus of agreement went round the table as we all stood up and moved to go back out to the dance floor, as though driven by primal instinct. Brandon whispered something into Jessa’s ear and then slung an arm around my shoulders and propelled me onto the dance floor.
“Can I talk to you about something?” he asked, nearly yelling to be heard over the booming music.
“Of course!” I yelled back. “What’s up?”
“Jessa won’t care!” he yelled, moving to the music like his body was spasmodic. I always felt like I was flailing when I danced to club music, but with Brandon, you didn’t notice. I jumped around and swung my hips so that my skirt puffed out in an explosion of tulle.
“Won’t care about what?”
“That you’re in love with Kate!”
Like a marionette whose strings had just been cut, my arms fell to my sides, and I stopped dancing. I froze. A deep chill settled into me, and the blood drained from my face. It was a shock to my system.
“Corey, it’s okay!” Brandon grabbed my hands and began to move them between us, pulling my shoulders gently forward and back to keep up the appearance of dancing. “I haven’t told her that you guys are dating, but you should tell her before she figures it out herself or she
will
be mad at you!”
“We’re not dating,” I said at normal volume, my words lost to the music.
“You don’t have to lie! No one will care! I’m happy for you!”
I pulled my hands away from his and quickly walked out of the crowd toward the abandoned punch bowl. Brandon followed, poured himself a cup of punch and lowered his voice.
“Sorry if I hit a nerve, but it really is okay, you know?” he said. He looked a little lost, like he hadn’t counted on this outcome when he decided to have this conversation.
“Please don’t say anything,” I said, hugging myself. “Promise you won’t tell her.”
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” Brandon made an X over his heart with his right hand, and then reached down to touch his right pocket, tapping it. “But Jessa loves you both. She’ll be happy for you.”