I meet Dad outside our door.
It’s just too much to go inside the house without Ryan being there. I haven’t been back since the first night. It’s like admitting that he is actually gone, and I don’t think I can do it. Not right now.
Dad is a wreck. His face is tired and pale. Stubble everywhere. His eyes are swollen and crusted with sleep in the corners.
I collapse into a hug. His arms feel good. Safe. Familiar.
The tears are slipping from the corners of my eyes before I can stop them. Janice and Christian are here, standing beside us, and they’re not family, which makes me realize just how lonely we are. How lonely we’ve always been. Where are Ryan’s friends? All of his entourage? I don’t need anyone to answer this question. They all ran away or are currently being investigated or arrested. Ryan was bound to get caught. But not like that.
God, not like that.
Christian rubs my back in circles awkwardly. Janice sighs and looks away, tears in her eyes.
“You told me,” Dad says, clutching me closer to his chest. “You told me, and I didn’t listen.”
“It’s okay.” I sniff.
Our world is broken, and nothing can fix it. The sun sets. The birds stop chirping.
And it finally hits me that Ryan is gone. Forever.
The next day is the funeral.
People from the neighborhood gather at the local cemetery, but not many of them. Not as much as I’d like to see, that’s for sure. Some have work. Some don’t have a ride. Some just don’t care. I’m wearing a black long-sleeved dress, and Dad is swimming in a suit he borrowed from a neighbor who is three sizes bigger than him.
The event starts at church. An open casket event. Ryan is there, looking peaceful, beautiful, and more than all of that—he looks like himself. I know it’s stupid, but it’s truly difficult to comprehend someone is gone when they’re physically next to you. When they look so alive. Just…asleep.
Then at the burial ceremony, I see Pierce. He doesn’t even try to be discreet, even though none of the staff from school attended. Christian and Benton are here, side-by-side, and Mr. James is making his way to the front line of people, as if he knew Ryan, as if he cared for Ryan, and even though this is my golden opportunity to hate him again, to push him away once more, I don’t have the energy to do so.
When the ceremony is over, I walk toward Christian and Benton. I hug my best friend. Herring taps my shoulder like he wants to tell me something.
“Mr. James is here,” Benton says. I nod.
“He must’ve heard about my brother,” I say dumbly.
“I think he’s here for you.” Christian’s eyes are pleading. He wants me to give Pierce another chance. I think he’ll feel better to know there’s someone to take care of me while my dad is on the road. But being with someone just so you can depend on him is a horrible idea. That’s how most women on my street ended up the way they did.
“Do I know you?” Dad approaches Pierce, who is wearing a sharp and expensive black suit.
“I’m a friend of your daughter’s,” he says softly, but also dryly. Not her teacher. Her friend. It doesn’t escape me, and I hate that my heart flutters in my chest when I hear him owning up to what we are.
More than a student and a teacher.
More than words.
“You look a little old to be her friend.”
“She’s a little older than her years, sir.”
I munch on my lower lip as I walk over to them. Pierce perks up, straightens his spine. The sun is unforgiveable. All of us are sweaty in our black attire, despite it being November. Welcome to Nevada.
“Remington,” Pierce says.
“Pierce.” I can’t help but call him. Not Mr. James. Today, he is Pierce.
“Can I offer you my condolences?” he asks. I nod.
“Alone?” He stretches. I think I hear his heart skipping a beat as I follow him to an oak tree—a huge thing the size of my house, probably—in the corner of the cemetery. We both stand in the shadow. I fiddle with the hem of my dress. Now that we’re alone, I drop my close-lipped smile and my soft eyes and become sharper around the edges. People are close enough to see what we are doing but far enough not to hear what we are saying. Pierce shoves his fists into his pockets and breathes in.
“I’m so sorry, Remi.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“You know it has nothing to do with me, right? I would never wish something like this upon my greatest enemy. And Ryan wasn’t my enemy. Not anymore. He was…” I think Pierce is about to say “yours,” but he stops himself if he does. Good. I don’t want to hear it, and I definitely don’t want to think about it. It’s not even true.
“Before he died,” I say, leaning my shoulder against the cool trunk of the dark brown tree, “he started acting different. Good different. Like the old Ryan. He was waiting on a call for a bed at an inpatient rehab center. He was trying. And then he was killed for it.” My dad was told that they suspect someone was upset that he wasn’t selling anymore. That, or he owed someone money.
Pierce nods. “We had a talk. I was hoping to get through to him. He really loved you, Remi.”
“You did?” My heart shatters, but flickers back to life. I’m not sure why. Maybe because hearing something I didn’t know about Ryan makes him feel more alive and the hole in my chest a little smaller. I’ll shove everything into that hole inside my heart. Even Pierce’s words, the most dangerous weapon of all.
“Yeah.” He nods faintly. “I told him if he really loves you, he should take a step back. And he did,” Pierce says. I swallow down my tears and shake my head.
“I can’t live without him,” I admit. It’s true. He is—was—such a huge part of my life, I didn’t even bother to check if he had a negative or positive effect on me.
“You can, and you will. I’ll help you through it. Through everything.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“I’m not asking.” His voice is dry. “I quit my job.”
My eyes fly up, and I blink. “You did what?”
“Quit.”
“Why?”
“Because I decided to pursue you. And pursuing you while holding onto a job where I had so much more power over you wasn’t fair. Or moral. Or right. I needed to refocus. You gave me what I needed. Now I’m going to give you what you need.”
“And what is that?” I ask, leaning against him without meaning to.
“Peace.”