“And I don’t.”
“Why?”
“Why don’t I want to be alone?” I blow out a breath, keeping my eyes on the sky. “Because I miss home. And being alone makes me miss it more.”
“Why do you miss home?”
“Because it’s all I know. It’s where I grew up. I miss my friends. I miss Axl.”
Braden swipes his phone, lowering the music. “Who’s Axl?”
“My boyfriend. We’ve dated for two years.”
“It won’t last. Not with you living here. Guys don’t do the long-distance thing, especially in high school.”
Not wanting to argue about it, I don’t respond.
“You still think about your mom?” he asks, tipping his head back, his eyes closed, arms extended, his hand almost touching my leg.
“I think about her all the time.” I look up at the sky. “Every day.”
“What was it like?”
“What?”
“When it happened. What was it like?”
This is the last thing I want to talk about, but opening up to Braden is the first step in making him trust me.
“It was like watching your world crumble right in front of you. I knew the moment she fell to the ground it was over. She wasn’t coming back.”
“How’d you know?”
“I just had this feeling. She didn’t respond when I tried to help. She was just lying there.” I take a breath, willing myself not to cry. “It was like her soul was already gone and her body just needed to catch up. By the time the ambulance got there, she was dead.”
We both get quiet, the music now faint in the background.
“I’ve never seen anyone die,” Braden says.
“I wouldn’t recommend it, especially if it’s someone you love.” I pause. “People at the funeral told me I was lucky I was there. That I was lucky to have those last few moments with her. But they’re wrong. It was horrible seeing her go. Being there as she took her last breaths? It’s something I can’t unsee. It’ll haunt me the rest of my life.”
We both get quiet again, and I consider I might’ve said too much. Braden doesn’t seem like someone who’s comfortable talking about stuff like this. Axl isn’t either. Whenever I triedtalking about my mom’s death, he’d tell me not to. He said I’d feel better if I didn’t, but I think that was truer for him than for me.
“Sometimes I feel like my mom is dead,” Braden says.
I look up and see he’s sunk deeper in the water, his chest covered, with only his head and arms exposed.
“Why?” I ask, surprised he brought up his mom.
He shrugs. “She feels dead to me.”
“Because you never see her?”
“I can see her whenever I want. I just don’t want to.”
“Did something happen? Did you get in a fight?”
“She doesn’t fight. Doesn’t even get mad. She just sits there, not saying anything.”
