There are ways of dying that do not end with a funeral. Types of deaths you can't see, feel or smell. Because death, just like love, has a mind of its own and some things can't be prevented.
What started as an innocent high school quest in search o...
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They're here?
How long have they been here, or more importantly, why are they even here?
I do get why Rose is, even though she never mentioned she'd come when I told her about today a few weeks ago but it's not like she said she wouldn't come, either. That, I'm not confused about. Not that much anyway. Aspen being here though, that's something entirely different.
Have they heard everything I just said?
Like that's even a question. I can tell by one look at her face, overflowing with tears that she's trying to desperately cover now by wiping the sleeves of her shirt across her face, as if by doing that, she'd erase the fact she'd been crying in the first place altogether.
"Congratulations," Mr. Sullivan, one of the staff members who had been taking care of us here says as he places the medallion into my palm but I'm still stuck on watching them all across the room.
I must be really out of it because he has to resort to squeezing my shoulder to get my attention. "Collin," he says, and this time when I look at him, he gives me a little smile. "Everything okay?"
"Uh, y-yeah," I stutter. "Everything good." I slip by him, hurrying off the stage.
I don't look in their direction again as I make my way down the stairs because I don't know what the hell to do now that they're here. It feels like an invasion of privacy and that alone makes me feel uneasy. Did Aspen catch that? Does she know I was talking about her, about us when I talked about my biggest regret? Fuck, I shouldn't have said that. I should've just left that part out. And I totally fucking would if I knew she was in the audience.
I look at the two friends I've made here during the last few months, Cammila and Javier, both already looking at me, but while Javier is smiling, Cammila has her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Internally torn, I sigh and look back to where Rose and Aspen were standing a few minutes ago but Aspen's not there anymore.
The sudden wave of panic that washes over me doesn't escape me, and it's that exact moment I know I just need to know.
Turning, I head for the door leading outside, looking at Rose still standing in the same spot as I pass by, trying to convey to her that I need a minute, alone, without her following me with my eyes alone.
I'm still mad at Aspen because of what Cassidy's letter said when I push the door open and step into the lobby. But I'm not sure my anger feels justified until I ask her about it for myself.
I don't want to be angry at her, though. I don't know if I can be angry at her because I keep thinking back to that one time when I confronted her about her being abused by someone, who I thought was Bishop at the time for some stupid reason, but what if what Cassidy wrote in the letter wasn't just about Rose? What if. . . Roger had something to do with Aspen, too? Could that be the reason why she kept it from me? Is that even a possibility?
