Faster We Burn Read online

  I was going to help get her through this and then I’d have to pull myself out of her life. But for right now, I was going to help her get through the next few hours, the next few days, until she could do it on her own again.

  Katie

  The funeral was nice. The flowers were nice and everyone said nice things and smiled nice and cried nice and it was all nice, nice, nice.

  I hated every second of it. All I wanted to do was push one of the windows open and jump, or pull the fire alarm, which was exactly in my line of vision. I wondered what my mother would have said if I’d have done it.

  I wished Stryker could have sat with me, but he was stuck a row behind. As much as I was sick of people hugging me and consoling me and touching me, I wished my hand was in his for the service.

  I snuck a few looks back at him and he gave me a little smile each time. At one point I heard a cough and glanced back to see him holding his hand over his mouth, and on the back of his hand was drawn, here 4 U.

  Thank you, I mouthed at him and turned back around. Leave it to Stryker to always have a marker on him.

  The rest of my friends were relegated to the very back of the room, but Zan was so tall I could see his dark head of hair every time I turned.

  His parents were here, too, also sitting in the back. I’d seen them come in, but I was waiting for the moment when they came through the line to pay their respects. His mother had never liked me. Not that it mattered now.

  They played James Taylor, Dad’s favorite, as people lined up to hug and tell us how sorry they were.

  More words, words, words and talking, talking, talking. I wished I could put them all on mute, like an annoying commercial.

  Yes, they were sorry about Dad, but you could tell that every single one of them was glad it wasn’t their family, that it wasn’t their dad or uncle or brother. They couldn’t hide it, when they looked at you. That little glimmer of pity and relief.

  After the service we all drove over to the local VFW hall to have a little open house my Mom and Aunt Carol had organized. It was a way to allow people to make more sympathy casseroles stuffed with tuna and peas and sorry for your losses.

  I wanted to skip the whole thing, but Mom would have killed me.

  “You guys don’t have to come,” I said as we stood in the parking lot. The air was so cold that it made our lungs and throat hurt when we breathed in, and it smelled like snow. Dad always claimed he could smell the snow, and Mom always said he was crazy.

  “Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss it,” Lottie said, giving me a little side hug. I actually didn’t mind her hugs. She was so tiny that they were never smothering.

  “We’re all here for you, girl,” Trish said and they all agreed.

  God, I didn’t deserve them and that was the thing that brought my first tears forward in days. During the service I’d pretended because what kind of horrible daughter didn’t sob at her dad’s funeral?

  “Here.” Stryker was prepared with a crisp white handkerchief that looked like he’d just taken it out of a package.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking it. I should probably be with my mom and Kayla and the rest of my family.

  “We should probably head over,” I said to Stryker.

  “You should go with your family. I’ll be right behind you.” Mom and Kayla walked out of the funeral home and I could tell they were looking for me.

  He flashed the words written on his hand and started walking toward his car. I said goodbye to everyone else and walked toward Mom and Kayla, giving each of them hugs.

  Only a few days ago my biggest problem was that Mom didn’t like Stryker and he was pushing me away. How fast things could change.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Stryker

  We all made it through the open house and then it was time for everyone to get back to school, and it was time for me to go with them.

  “So, I’m going to drive Trish back,” I said as Katie tossed what was left of the food.

  “What?” She looked at me as if I’d just announced I was going to the moon.

  “Yeah, I really need to get back to school and…everything.” It was the lamest of lame excuses. This morning I’d packed up my stuff and loaded up my car with it while she’d been in the shower. Like a fucking coward.

  She stared for another second and then shook her head.

  “Yeah, yeah, of course. You have to get back to your life.”

  There was another moment of silence, and it was awkward. After we’d become so close, this seemed very anti-climactic.

  “Thank you,” she said, tossing something that looked like leftover baby food into the trash can, “for everything. I’ll never be able to say it enough, but I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She set the dish down and gave me a hug.

  I tried not to hold her too tight, or pull her too close. She’d been hugged enough today, and if I were her, I wouldn’t want another one.

  That didn’t stop me from leaning down and smelling her hair and letting myself surround her for just a second.

  “See you around?” I should win an award for the most moronic goodbye ever spoken.

  “Um, yeah. I guess.”

  “Let me know if you need anything. Anytime.”

  I let her go and stepped away. She looked like she was going to cry again, so I handed her another handkerchief.

  “Thanks, Stryker.”

  I turned my back and walked away.

  ***

  “You are the dumbest brother ever. Seriously,” Trish said as I got in the car. “You are seriously going to leave her now?”

  “I don’t belong there anymore. I shouldn’t really have been there that long. Her mother was going to say something eventually and I didn’t want her to have to go through that again.”

  “You’re still a dumbass.” She moved the seat back so she could have room for her legs.

  “What am I supposed to do, Trish?” She could criticize all she wanted, but I’d like to see her do better.

  “Well, first I wouldn’t abandon her in her time of need. Second, I would have told her that I loved her.”

  We were back to that again.

  “I don’t love her, Trish.”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes before taking her hair out of the careful bun she’d put it in, to look respectful, I supposed. She hadn’t taken out her violet contacts, and she’d worn her black boots, so those sort of negated her effort, but it was a nice try.

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “Look Trish, I’m exhausted and I really, really need a cigarette, so could you just lay off?”

  Normally she would have made a snarky comment and just ignored me until she had her say, but I must have looked bad enough for her to back down.

  “Fine, fine.”

  I turned on the radio as loud as it would go and loosened my tie.

  “Here,” she said, fishing in my glove box for my emergency smokes. She held one out to me and put it in my mouth before lighting it.

  “Thanks.”

  “You should really quit, you know.”

  Every now and then Trish nagged me to quit, but then she still smoked, so it was a bit of a pot and kettle situation.

  “I will if you will.” We’d tried that before too. Turned out willpower was not one of our genetic gifts.

  “Deal.” She held out her hand and we shook on it. “But let me have one last one.”

  So we each smoked one last cigarette in silence as I drove us back to school.

  ***

  I texted Katie when we got back, just so she’d know we arrived alive. Trish saw me doing it, but made no comment other than raising her eyebrow and giving me a look.

  I dropped her back at her apartment and went back to mine. The place felt too big and too silent. Just the sound of my own breathing was loud. I turned on some music, not caring what it was as long as the sound filled up the empty rooms. “Holding on and Letting Go”, by Ross Copperman came through the speakers and I almos
t turned it off, but that would be admitting the song bothered me because it made me think of Katie. I wasn’t going to give the song that satisfaction.

  My phone rang and I knew without looking at it who it would be.

  “Hey,” she said, and her voice was thick with tears.

  “Hey.”

  “I miss you. Mom’s back to being a sobbing mess and Kayla’s trying to get her to eat and my family is smothering me and I just wish you were here. Or I wish I was there. Either way, I wish we were together.”

  So did I.

  “I’m sorry I left, but I didn’t want to start anything with your mom.”

  “I know why you left, but I wish you didn’t have to. Things have gotten so…complicated.” She laughed a little, but it wasn’t really funny. “I think I’m still in denial.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m quitting smoking,” I said, just for something to say that didn’t involve death.

  “Really? Have you ever tried before?”

  “Trish and I try every now and then, but it never sticks.”

  “Well, if you need, like, a sponsor or something, I would be happy to fill that role. You know, help you with the pledge.”

  “The pledge?”

  “I accept the things and I can’t change and…I know there’s something about the wisdom to know the difference…” I almost laughed.

  “That’s for Alcoholics Anonymous.”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “I guess not,” I said as the song switched to “Rose Tattoo”, by Dropkick Murphys.

  “Could you play for me?” she said, as if she was asking to borrow a kidney.

  “What do you want to hear?”

  “Anything.”

  I turned off Dropkick, put the phone on speaker and picked up my guitar, sifting through my mental jukebox. I wanted something that would make her laugh. Something unexpected. I smiled and started “Lovefool”, by The Cardigans. I’d found it through a random internet search once and thought it was catchy.

  It took a minute for her to figure out what it was, but I heard her laugh for the first time in way too long. A surprised laugh that she couldn’t suppress.

  I exaggerated the cuteness of the lyrics, hoping to make her laugh more. It worked.

  She was still giggling when I finished.

  “That was so random, but so perfect. I heard that one in a movie once and I always liked it.” Her laughter died down and I picked the phone up again.

  “I thought you’d like that.”

  She paused and I could hear her thinking.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t feel like shit about laughing, but I do.”

  “You’re right, you shouldn’t. Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to learn the Serenity Prayer. You have to start accepting that you can’t change things, and you can’t take the blame for everything.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “So stop it,” I said. “Just stop.” My voice was sharp, but she needed to hear it. Everyone else would treat her delicately, but she wasn’t. She was tough and she needed someone to call her out on it.

  “Are you being a dick again?”

  “No, I’m just…I don’t want you to turn into this sad girl who stops living her life because she’s afraid of everything. You’re the girl who kissed me because you wanted to see what it was like to make out with a guy who had a lip ring. You’re the girl who faced her ex, and the girl who fought her mom for me. I can’t lose that girl.”

  “That girl had a dad. I don’t know who I am anymore. That girl is gone and she’s not coming back.” I knew what she was saying was right, but I didn’t want it to be right.

  “I just…I have to figure things out now. But I don’t want to figure them out alone. I want you to be there.” I didn’t say anything, because I was waiting for more.

  “Not like how we first were. Just friends. No sex. I can’t deal with all that right now, but I’d like it if we could be friends. Do you think we could do that?”

  No, we definitely couldn’t go back to being friends, not after everything. At least, I didn’t think I could. But, if it was being friends or not having her in my life, I’d take the agony of trying to be her friend.

  “I think we can be friends.” She let out a breath I felt like she’d been holding for as long as she’d been talking to me.

  “Good. I’d really like to be your friend.”

  “I’ll try not to be a dick.”

  “You can be a dick sometimes. Especially when I need it.” This was probably the absolute worst time, but I couldn’t go forward without telling her about Ric. Dick move, coming right up.

  “Listen—”

  She cut me off.

  “I know that it’s going to be hard to go back. I mean, we started off in the wrong direction to be friends, but I would really like to try, but only if you want to. I don’t want you to feel obligated. You’ve already done so much for me.”

  Shit. As quick as I’d gotten up the nerve to do it, that nerve had deserted me and it wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

  “No, I want to be friends. Just friends.”

  “Just friends.”

  She told me she’d be coming back soon, that Kayla was going to stay with her mom for a while and Adam was going back to Africa. It wasn’t the best solution, but at least she could come back to school and start figuring out who she was now.

  “So I guess I’ll see you soon, friend.”

  “Goodnight, friend,” I said. “To be continued.”

  “Dot, dot, dot,” she said and hung up.

  Katie

  There wasn’t much more I could do at home, and I was starting to go crazy. Everywhere, there were reminders of Dad. Pictures and tools and socks and even a basket of his laundry. Mom had cleaned most of it, but I still found things here and there. Behind the dryer, and in the dishwasher and on the shelves and randomly in my room.

  He was everywhere and nowhere.

  Kayla had her hands full with Mom, who went from a busy bee who wouldn’t stop moving to a sobbing mess who couldn’t do anything. I’d tried helping her, but I just didn’t have the knack for it. I wanted to tell her to stop crying because it made me uncomfortable. I wanted to tell her that she had to get her shit together because I was worried about her and I didn’t want to go to school without knowing that she was going to be able to make it through the day.

  I did grab one of his flannel shirts and shove it in my bag when Mom and Kayla weren’t looking. I had plenty of pictures and videos and so forth of my dad, but I wanted something that still had his smell. I also found a few pictures of the two of us and a few other little keepsakes that Mom wouldn’t miss.

  I still couldn’t believe he was dead. I’d said it thousands of times, thinking that if I said it enough, I’d start believing it. Even the service hadn’t done it. Even seeing the urn with his ashes in it hadn’t done it. I’d taken some of those, too, when everyone had been in bed. They were double Ziploc-bagged at the bottom of my backpack. I was now the creepy girl who stole her dad’s ashes. I had no idea what I was going to do with them.

  Mom had a million different ideas, but she never stuck with one of them long enough. First it was the beach, then it was the mountains, and then it was at his childhood home, and then it was a little bit in a bunch of places. Her latest scheme was some sort of road trip where we dropped little bits in places that meant something to him. It sounded like something she’d heard in a movie. Some sort of weird bonding experience where we’d all learn something and come out better in the end and ride off into a hopeful sunset in a blue convertible. Too bad life was never like that.

  Mom had barely mentioned Stryker other than to say, “That tattooed boy gone now?” I just nodded and let it go. She didn’t ask about him again, and I didn’t volunteer anything.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” I said to Kayla the Wednesday following the funeral. I had used up all my “dead
dad” freebie days from classes.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll see you on Saturday, right?” I’d planned to come home on the weekends until further notice to give Kayla a break from Mom duty. Not that I’d be much help.

  I saw her checking her phone for the millionth time, even though Adam had already landed in Africa and wouldn’t have service again.

  “It sucks that he had to go back.”

  “Yeah, but we’ve got to learn how to deal with stuff like this.” She said it, but I could tell she didn’t mean it. Since they’d met, they’d barely spent any time apart, and you could see that it was like part of her was missing. Kayla had dated before, but I’d never seen her like this. My normally organized (the apple didn’t fall far from the tree) sister was scatterbrained and careless. Some of it had to do with losing Dad and some of it had to do with the fact that part of her heart was thousands of miles away.

  “I’m not the kind of girl who can’t function without a man. I’m not,” she said, taking one of the clean dishes and going to the freezer and putting it in.

  “Um, Kay?”

  “What?”

  “I think that belongs in the cabinet.”

  She opened the freezer, took the now-chilled plate out and put it in the cabinet with a clatter.

  “You didn’t see that,” she said, grabbing another dish.

  “See what?”

  “Exactly.”

  ***

  “Mom?” She’d gone back to bed after having a crying fit over finding some of Dad’s tools in the garage. “I’m leaving.”

  The room was dark. Kayla had tacked up pieces of fabric over the windows for her. It was a bit like walking into a cave.

  She rolled over slowly, barely opening her swollen eyes. Whereas I couldn’t cry, she seemed to breaking the world record for most tears shed. If only we could make a trade. I’d be happy to be the sobbing wreck if it meant she could hold it together better.

  “Okay.” She didn’t seem to want to move, so I pulled the covers down and got in with her, shoes and all. It was a testament to how upset she was that she didn’t scold me.