After by Kristin Harmel Page A

minute?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.
    He shrugged. “Whatever.” But he allowed himself to be led away, back toward the entrance.
    “I’m glad you came,” I said evenly. “But what’s Sydney doing here?”
    “She’s with me,” he replied.
    “I know that,” I said. “But this is a meeting for people whose parents have died. Sydney’s mom and dad are fine!”
    Logan shrugged. He knew he was bugging me. “Yeah, well,” he said noncommittally.
    “Can you maybe get rid of her for like an hour?” I asked. “And meet her after?”
    Logan shook his head firmly, but I couldn’t help thinking he looked a tiny bit guilty. He glanced toward the table, where Sydney was standing, hands on her hips, lips pursed, watching us with narrowed eyes.
    “She wanted to come with me,” he said. “And she’s my girlfriend.”
    “Yes, I’m aware of that.”
    Logan glanced at Sydney again and then back at me. He lowered his voice. “Seriously, Lacey, can you loosen up a little?”
    “Whatever,” I muttered. I didn’t have the energy to fight.
    We made our way back to the table, and Logan whispered something in Sydney’s ear. She giggled and the two of them sat down. Everyone looked at me expectantly. The waitress arrived with our Cokes, and Sydney and Logan ordered. I tried not to roll my eyes as Sydney asked for a sparkling water and a salad with low-cal dressing.
    I took a long sip of my soda. “Hi,” I said. “I know we all know each other, but I thought maybe we could start today by going around and introducing ourselves briefly and saying why we’re here.”
    Cody snorted. “I thought you said this wasn’t going to be like therapy.”
    “I already went to grief counseling,” Mindy mumbled.
    “I hated it.”
    “Is that what this is?” Cody demanded. “Because if it is, I’m leaving.”
    “No,” I said quickly. “It’s not like I expect us to sit around and talk about death, you know?” I glanced at Kelsi, and she looked away. “But for today, I thought it would be a good idea if we at least all know each other’s stories.”
    The smirk slipped from Cody’s face. He looked down at his lap.
    The rest of the group watched me in silence. I didn’t think it was my imagination that Sydney looked uncomfortable.
    “Fine, I’ll go,” I said finally. I took a deep breath. “I’m Lacey Mann. I have two brothers, Logan and Tanner. My dad died in a car accident last November. We were all with him in the car. All of us except for my mom, I mean.”
    I said the words matter-of-factly. I didn’t expect them to make me feel weird, because it wasn’t like they were anything new. These were all facts I had accepted. But there was a lump in my throat when I finished, and my eyes stung a little bit. “Logan?” I said. “Do you want to go next?”
    “What do you want me to say?” he asked. “I have the same story as you.”
    “Duh,” Sydney said under her breath.
    “I just thought …,” I said. I stopped, because I wasn’t sure what I’d thought.
    “I’ll go,” Cody said. “I’m Cody. My dad died in Iraq when I was in eighth grade.”
    He paused, and I thought he was done. I was about to open my mouth to thank him when he spoke again.
    “He was with his battalion,” Cody continued. “It was just a normal day. They were driving along a road. And then all of a sudden, a bomb went off in the road in front of them. They had driven over some wire and tripped it. The bomb totally ripped apart the convoy. A few other soldiers were hurt. But my dad died. Right there.”
    He took a deep breath and then looked down at his lap.
    It was Mindy who finally spoke. “That must have been really hard on you,” she said. “To have him so far away. And not be able to say goodbye.”
    “Yeah, it sucked,” Cody said. He paused. “What happened to your mom?”
    Something inside me lurched. It was working. The people around the table were talking.
    “She died,” Mindy said simply. “Last year,