“Yes,” Charlie says, “but not about everything.”
“About what, then?” I’m not looking at Charlie anymore. The lump in the back of my throat is bubbling up, and I can feel hot tears begin to sting the backs of my eyes. I won’t cry, though, not here. I’ve cried in front of Charlie hundreds of times, but ifI do it now, here, she will be right. If I cry, I’ll be admitting he’s really gone.
“You can choose to be happy,” Charlie says. She offers the words firmly, like she’s offering me her hand. “You reminded me of that this week. Happiness is a choice, Rose.” I think about sitting in her car earlier on Monday, talking about her mom. It might as well have been years ago. “I think you can choose not to blame yourself too.”
“Hey,” Olivia says. She and Ben have come up behind us. He has his arm around her, tucking her firmly to his side, and her head is on his shoulder. She’s wearing the same black dress she had on for prom last year. I know it has a snag on the zipper from when she couldn’t get it up and Taylor pulled too enthusiastically.
Charlie’s bottom lip is quivering, and Ben lets go of Olivia, drawing Charlie into a big hug. They stay that way for a while. I forget sometimes that they’re related. That everything that happened with Charlie’s mom happened to Ben’s mom too. It’s overwhelming, and for a moment the magnitude of it all, the fact that death has touched all of us, is almost too much to bear.
“Do you guys want to go to Cal Block?” Olivia asks. I expect Charlie to spin around and tell her how insensitive she is being. That we can’t possibly order the specialSlike everything is the same, when Rob and Juliet are dead, but she smiles at Olivia. “Sounds perfect,” she says. “Rose?”
But I’m not looking at them or thinking aboutqueso. I’m watching someone who has just left the church. He has on a black suit and a blue tie, and he’s standing by the doors, holding them open as people stream outside.
Len sees me too, and for a moment the world folds in on itself and the ground under us zips us together so that the only thing that exists in the entire universe is the two of us. But he doesn’t make a move to come over to me. He doesn’t even wave. Instead, he just tips his head. And that one curl swings down onto his forehead.
Then he turns away and walks back in the direction of the parking lot. I wonder if I’m supposed to feel something, but it’s like all the emotion has been wrung out of me. I just feel empty. I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them again, Charlie is looking at me. “What do you think?” she asks gently. “Cal Block?”
I shrug to say,Sure, whatever, I don’t care. Nothing matters. Nothing even exists anymore. But I’m not sure my shoulders are working. I’m not sure I’m even breathing.
“Come on.” Charlie puts her hands on my shoulder blades and nudges me forward, toward the cars. My parents are a few paces over, talking to Rob’s parents. My father has his hand on Rob’s dad’s back, and they’re nodding, their faces pinched up and tense.
I want to get out of here. I want to go as far away as possible from all of this. From Rob’s body and my parents and my dead cousin and even Charlie and Olivia. But I let Charlie lead me over to Big Red. Just like always. I climb into the front seat, and Olivia and Ben get into her car. Just like always. We drive to Cal Block, sit in our corner booth, and order the specialS. Just like always. Olivia piles her chips and complains about the air conditioning. Charlie rolls her eyes and orders more sparkling water. Just like always.
“Jake said he wanted to be in the water.” Charlie ducks down and takes a long drag through her straw. “He’s meeting me later.”
“Makes sense.” Olivia sighs and looks at me. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
Olivia glances at Charlie, then back at me. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “For the record, I think it’s no one’s business to talk about this. We all know Juliet had problems, but…”
Something about the way she looks at Charlie, like she’s getting permission or something, makes me seething mad. Hot blood is pounding in my ears so it makes it impossible to keep listening. I’ve put up with their puppy-dog stares and tears and sensitivity and theories—one routine piled atop another atop another that is supposed to all add up to this being okay. Like if they say the right thing and we wear the right thing to the funeral and we squeeze hands twice and tap our noses and go to the samerestaurants and we carry on with our traditions, it will be like nothing ever happened. Like Rob never died.
Except he did, and no amount of specialSwill fix that.
“I’m not hungry,” I say. “I’m going to go.”
“Can we finish?” Charlie gestures to the plate in front of her with one hand and outside to the car with the other.
“I’m not asking you to drive me.”
She sits back against the booth. “Okay.”
Olivia is biting down on her nails.
“I’m walking,” I announce to both of them.
I stand up, and Charlie stops me with her hand. She puts it entirely over mine, like paper covering rock. “It’s going to be okay,” she says. My eyes start to water as I leave, and I wish now, more than ever, that I could believe her.
Scene Three
When I leave Cal Block,I walk all the way back to the church. I know it’s where I’m going before I start. I didn’t fight hard enough for our friendship when we were kids, and I missed out on ten years with her. I didn’t try hard enough when she was here, and now there won’t be another chance. The least I can do is take it upon myself to say good-bye.
I arrive dusty and sweaty. The parking lot is crowded, and there are photographers outside, trying to catch a snapshot of the grieving family. I slip up to the entrance and jostle my way to the front, where a security guard asks me for my name.
“Rosaline,” I say.
“Rosaline what?”
