disrespectful to Kyle if I was. Maybe a part of me was twisted for keeping myself in this inner turmoil, for torturing myself unnecessarily, but that’s what I did. It’s what I felt was right, what I deserved. One thing I had learned out of this entire experience of death was that everyone handles it in his or her own way…and this was mine. So who could say whether it was right or wrong, but me?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Is that eyeliner I’m seeing?” Missy asked in a shocked tone.
I cracked a smile and nodded. Today was the first time I had worn eyeliner since the night of Kyle’s accident. Usually, I left my face bare, pulled my dark blonde strands high up on my head into a messy bun, and slipped on the first thing I saw in my closet, because I didn’t care what I looked like. My messy outside was a reflection of how I felt inside. Today I woke up feeling a tiny smidge like my old self again, hence the eyeliner.
“And your hair is brushed, this is a start.” Missy smiled as we continued up the steps from the parking lot. “My best friend is coming back. Took you long enough.”
There it was—the insensitive slap I had been waiting on since reaching for my eyeliner and applying the first coat. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep in the harsh words that had found their way to the tip of my tongue, because deep down, I knew that she meant well, the same way that I also knew she was right. It had been three long months since Kyle’s death. The temperatures had grown cooler with the season change and my guilt had just as gradually begun to dissipate.
“So, what answer did you get for question number forty-two last night?” I asked in an attempted subject change, because if we continued talking about how I had finally pulled myself back together a tiny bit, then my old friend Guilt would hammer against my conscience again, and tell me that it was too soon still and I would be right back where I was yesterday—a mess.
“Let me look,” she said as she stepped to the side and stopped to rifle through her notebook.
I leaned against the red brick of the main building we were standing beside and let out the breath that had been constricted in my chest, relieved for the change of subject. I pulled my notebook out of my messenger bag and tugged out the paper on top so we could compare answers.
“I put it in here. I don’t know why I can’t freaking find it,” Missy griped as she frantically searched through her notebook. “I swear, if I left it on the kitchen counter at home I’m going to be pissed.”
“It’s probably in there.” My voice sounded flat even to my own ears. Missy thankfully didn’t seem to notice or else she undoubtedly would have called me out on it. She had in the past, especially when it was followed by that fake smile that my lips were now trained to twist into. The one that made people leave me alone and stop asking if I was all right; the one that erased the sympathy from their eyes because it seemed somewhat believable. Not with her, though, Missy always called me on it.
My eyes trailed around absently; taking in all of the unfamiliar faces I had seen here every day, but never paid much attention to, until they came to one so incredibly familiar, my breath hitched. I had seen him yesterday. We actually shared a class together every day, but it didn’t matter. I could share every class with him and still feel the same each time I saw him—jostled.
Derek walked up the concrete walkway that led into the main building, the building I was leaning against, without noticing me…without noticing anything besides the concrete he was stepping on. His shoulders were slightly hunched forward and his hands were shoved deeply into his front pockets.
“How’s it going, Derek? We still on for tonight?” Brody asked as he high fived him while walking in the opposite direction.
Derek looked up, a large grin making an appearance on his face, and answered Brody.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Is that eyeliner I’m seeing?” Missy asked in a shocked tone.
I cracked a smile and nodded. Today was the first time I had worn eyeliner since the night of Kyle’s accident. Usually, I left my face bare, pulled my dark blonde strands high up on my head into a messy bun, and slipped on the first thing I saw in my closet, because I didn’t care what I looked like. My messy outside was a reflection of how I felt inside. Today I woke up feeling a tiny smidge like my old self again, hence the eyeliner.
“And your hair is brushed, this is a start.” Missy smiled as we continued up the steps from the parking lot. “My best friend is coming back. Took you long enough.”
There it was—the insensitive slap I had been waiting on since reaching for my eyeliner and applying the first coat. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep in the harsh words that had found their way to the tip of my tongue, because deep down, I knew that she meant well, the same way that I also knew she was right. It had been three long months since Kyle’s death. The temperatures had grown cooler with the season change and my guilt had just as gradually begun to dissipate.
“So, what answer did you get for question number forty-two last night?” I asked in an attempted subject change, because if we continued talking about how I had finally pulled myself back together a tiny bit, then my old friend Guilt would hammer against my conscience again, and tell me that it was too soon still and I would be right back where I was yesterday—a mess.
“Let me look,” she said as she stepped to the side and stopped to rifle through her notebook.
I leaned against the red brick of the main building we were standing beside and let out the breath that had been constricted in my chest, relieved for the change of subject. I pulled my notebook out of my messenger bag and tugged out the paper on top so we could compare answers.
“I put it in here. I don’t know why I can’t freaking find it,” Missy griped as she frantically searched through her notebook. “I swear, if I left it on the kitchen counter at home I’m going to be pissed.”
“It’s probably in there.” My voice sounded flat even to my own ears. Missy thankfully didn’t seem to notice or else she undoubtedly would have called me out on it. She had in the past, especially when it was followed by that fake smile that my lips were now trained to twist into. The one that made people leave me alone and stop asking if I was all right; the one that erased the sympathy from their eyes because it seemed somewhat believable. Not with her, though, Missy always called me on it.
My eyes trailed around absently; taking in all of the unfamiliar faces I had seen here every day, but never paid much attention to, until they came to one so incredibly familiar, my breath hitched. I had seen him yesterday. We actually shared a class together every day, but it didn’t matter. I could share every class with him and still feel the same each time I saw him—jostled.
Derek walked up the concrete walkway that led into the main building, the building I was leaning against, without noticing me…without noticing anything besides the concrete he was stepping on. His shoulders were slightly hunched forward and his hands were shoved deeply into his front pockets.
“How’s it going, Derek? We still on for tonight?” Brody asked as he high fived him while walking in the opposite direction.
Derek looked up, a large grin making an appearance on his face, and answered Brody.
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