For This Life Only by Stacey Kade

we always have to pretend everything was okay? Why couldn’t we just admit that we were falling apart? If we couldn’t do that, I wasn’t sure how we were going to get better.
    â€œJace?” Delores asked from behind me, her voice full of worry.
    â€œYeah, I’m fine,” I said grimly. What else was there to say?

CHAPTER TEN
----
    â€œHEY!”
    A french fry bounced off my cheek and landed in the congealing grease on my pizza slice.
    I looked up from my tray, startled.
    â€œWhat’s up, bro?” Zach asked, as he wiped his hands on a napkin. “I called your name, like, three times.”
    â€œJust tired,” I said. “Long day.”
    A burst of laughter came from the other end of our cafeteria table, where Caleb, Derek, Scott, and Matt were all talking about something that seemed to involve fireworks and a poorly placed sofa cushion.
    â€œThere’s tired, and then there’s the walking dead,” Zach said around a mouthful of burger. “You are the latter today, my friend. What’s up?”
    Audrey gave a nervous bark of laughter, pushing her hair back from her face. “Zach.”
    I shook my head, negating her concern over Zach’s choice of words.
    My anger from yesterday afternoon had faded, leaving a heavy gray haze over everything. My dad had driven me home in a mutual tense silence. Then the three of us had taken turns trying to talk Sarah into coming out from under the bed. I’d listened to my parents alternate threats with cajoling, getting nowhere.
    When it was my turn, I sat next to the bed so she knew I was there. I had no idea what was going on in her little head. I could hear the sound of her crayons scribbling across paper, though. Maybe she, like me, couldn’t talk about it yet. Or ever.
    But no matter what, sometimes it was nice to know that another person was nearby. That you weren’t alone.
    I stayed until my leg began to ache from sitting in one position, and then when I started to get up, Sarah’s hand appeared from under the bed ruffle, patted the back of my hand twice—as if she were the one comforting me—and then vanished again.
    It wasn’t much, but it was something.
    Then, this morning, she’d been back to her ghost routine, drifting through the house in her pajamas, withPatsie and blanket in hand. But neither of my parents had complained, because she’d crawled out from under the bed, eaten a bowl of cereal, and gotten dressed for school, all without argument and while still avoiding me. Sarah needed help. But I couldn’t get my mom and dad to see it.
    If Eli had been here, I would have been able to tell him and he would have figured out how to bring it up, what to say to get them to understand. But then again, if Eli had been here, none of this would have been an issue.
    â€œWhat do you think happens after you die?” I asked Audrey and Zach.
    Their shocked silence was louder, for a moment, than all the noise of the cafeteria around us.
    â€œSarah freaked out yesterday,” I continued. “About Eli, I think. I’m trying to figure out what to tell her, how to help her. But everyone keeps talking about heaven or being in a ‘better place.’ And I just . . . I’m not sure.”
    Zach and Audrey exchanged uncertain glances; then Zach forced an uncomfortable laugh. “Isn’t this kind of your dad’s territory?”
    I shrugged.
    Audrey set her fork down on her tray and reached out to pat my shoulder hesitantly. “I’m sure Eli is okay, wherever he is, Jace. And Sarah will understand that eventually.”
    â€œYeah.” Zach nodded vigorously, his hair flopping in his eyes.
    â€œThe most important thing is that you remember him and keep him a part of your life that way,” Audrey added. “That’s how you help Sarah.”
    It sounded so familiar, the same thing everyone said at every funeral ever. To the point of being