Chapter thirty-three
Just a Kid Himself
Propping the heavy bouquet on my hip, I slam the car door shut with the back of my foot. It takes everything in me to not crack a smile with how Skye is gawking at everyone. She’s basically performing an interpretive dance beside everyone she used to know. Everyone is looking somber as they walk into the cathedral. My fingertips are loosening around the satin-wrapped stems with each step.
When I make it to the top of the stairs, Beth finds me.
The crystalline entryway showcases each delicate piece of glass. Different colors colliding with each other seamlessly.
“So glad you could make it,” she says, squeezing my whole body. I’m unable to breathe under her hold.
“I brought flowers,” I gasp.
“You are a sweetheart.”
She unleashes me from her hold and takes the flowers from my hands, cocking her head to the side to zero in on my neck.
“Where did you get this?”
Her hands drop the bouquet to the floor, grasping for my chain, stuck in a trance.
“Found it at a vintage store,” I snap.
“Weird. My great-grandmother had a necklace exactly like that. The detailing is eerily similar.”
Her hands trace the twisting vines etched around the stone, scanning it meticulously for what feels like centuries. When she finally releases it from her hold, I clasp it in my hands as it slingshots back to me.
“Beth, I’m so sorry for your loss!” someone says.
A wave of new people comes through the door, bombarding her with hugs. I take this as my chance to slip away.
“Everyone is so lively,” I whisper to the stranger beside me. Her face is nothing but a blank stare as she looks back at me.
“Jokes do not land well at memorial services, I see.” This time the woman gives me one quick look of disgust before walkingaway. I’m back to staring at the life-size portrait of Skye. Wondering if we would’ve been friends in a different timeline if everything wasn’t so—
I inch closer to the photo; one I’ve never seen before. In her blue sundress with baby hairs wisping in front of her face, she looks so carefree. She doesn’t look much younger than her ghostly self.
Before turning to my left to find my seat, I found Skye in the crowd. Everyone is praying and giving their blessing. She is twirling and smiling in the aisle as if this is her big moment.
It isn’t long before everyone is back in their seats, hearing another prayer from the priest. Skye is still flapping around the place as if this was a talent show.
The harpist is playing a soothing melody as the prayer fades out. Once the priest is done, the harpist strums louder.
“I wish someone would give me the aux.” Her body pops up next to me, and I can’t help but jolt in my seat. Saying nothing only annoys her more because she keeps going.
“Who knew this would be so boring? …I can’t believe they chose that photo.”
My whole-body clenches, forcing me to tilt my head to the left, and I whisper in her direction. “Shhhh.”
As discreet as I am, any noise might as well have been a gunshot in this church. A few heads turn in my direction, and I slowly sink in my seat.
The priest starts to speak, and there is not a dry eye in the house.
Every seat is filled.
“Were you always this popular?” I murmur.
“I think I knew a third of these people. It’s Beth they know.”
