A forced smile stretches across my face, my hand fiddling with the necklace that Leyla got me for my twenty-first birthday. “I’ll stop by later today and pick those up. Thanks, Alex.”
“Anytime, sweet girl. Are you doing okay after the funeral?”
I literally don’t even want to talk to her anymore; I truly just don’t have it in me. I force out my words and a fake smile. “Yeah, I’m all good. Talk to you later.”
It’s May so it’s finally warming up just a little bit, but no one prepared me for how much it rains—I definitely don’t remember it being this rainy when I was growing up here. I pull out my phone and send a text to Zack.
Hazel: Hey. Got the okay from Alex. Can go into Leyla’s place.
Hazel: Can you meet me there? I don’t want to go alone.
I stare at the screen for a second before locking my phone and setting it face down on the counter like it’s something dangerous. Like maybe if I don’t look at it, none of this is real.
At this point, I don’t even know what I’m hoping for anymore. Closure? Some kind of weird peace? A ghost of who we used to be waiting in that apartment to say goodbye? The past is coming to hunt me down and make sure I don’t know peace.
God, I don’t know.
I pull on a sweatshirt that still smells like the back of Leyla’s car—faint floral-scented air freshener and pear blossom body spray. My throat tightens before I can stop it. It’s like every smell, song, place, everythingwants to remind me she’s not here. A part of my entire being, somehow gone in the blink of an eye. I don’t know how to move past this.
I sit at the edge of my bed, and the tears come before I can even pretend to stop them.
I cry quietly, the kind of cry that doesn’t make noise, doesn’t demand attention—the kind you do when no one’s coming to ask if you’re okay.
Because you already know the answer.
You already know no one can fix it.
Because there is no one left to fix this.
I cry for her. For the way she laughed with her whole face. For the way she made everything feel like an inside joke. For the way she believed in me when I didn’t even know how to want anything. I cry for the girl who finally found her true love, even though I couldn’t be the one to give it to her. She deserved better, and I can’t help but blame myself for the fact that Leyla is no longer here.
I wipe my face, sitting for a second longer and just breathing.In. Out. In again.
Then I tell myself—like I always do—that’s enough.I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep falling apart every time she crosses my mind. I won’t.
I get up and go to the bathroom. Cold water. Pat my face. Tie my hair up. Stare at my own reflection until I almost recognize myself again.
She’s gone.
And I’m still here.
I bottle it up. Just like always. I’m gonna make this okay again, I’m gonna be the one who fixes all of this. My phone buzzes with a response from Zack.
Zack: On my way.
Zack: I went back home, I’ll be there tomorrow. Meet you at their place at 4?
Hazel: Yeah. That works.
Part of me wants to know every single thing about this mysterious man, but I also want to know why I have thisincessantneed to know everything about him. I wish I wasn’t such a damn mess where I never feel like I’m good enough, or smart enough, to try to figure out if they’re dead.
Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point. I just know that Zack said he’s on his way, and now I have to make the trek to my maybe-not-dead-best-friend’s house to collect her things.
What the fuck.
That night went by in a blur. I did what I could, but it felt as though I was merely a passenger going through the motions of this life. I picked up the keys to the house, then just slept. For the first time in months, I finally slept. It still doesn’t feel real. What is even happening anymore?
Later that day, I hop in my shitty Civic and drive all the way to Main, passing LeBauer Park as I go. I pull into the back parking lot of the apartment building, and I’m struck silent by the mountain of a man who’s standing against a bike.
