Steam from the casserole my mom made wafted in my face as I set it on the table. Dishes, cold and hot, covered the long surface running down the school’s auditorium.

It should be illegal to have to be at school on a Sunday evening. In only a little more than twelve hours we would be back, blurry eyed and wishing for Friday again.

“Jaymerson, that goes down with the entrees.” Mom pointed at the area where she wanted me to move it. Since I had fallen short on my duties to organize the potluck, Mom made sure I was on the list for setup and break down.

An auction was to be held after the dinner, where the wealthy people in town offered prizes for other wealthies to bid on. Why didn’t they hand the money straight over to Mr. and Mrs. Harris and call it a day? I took in a deep breath. They mean well. They mean well. They did, but I still felt this was being forced on me.

“Jayme, Nancy arrived with the cupcakes. Be sure the dessert table is ready,” Mom called over her shoulder. As she walked through the open doors I could see Nancy’s white blazer at the curb.

I was kept from heavy lifting or walking a lot due to doctor’s orders. Physical work would help me not to think, but I was more the mascot: fluffing napkins, rearranging dishes, stacking cups, standing at the table, looking pretty in my dress, showing how strong and amazing I was through this awful time. I felt anything but strong or amazing. I tucked these thoughts away, plastering a smile on my face.

Savannah huffed, sighed, and looked anywhere but at me. She was doing her best to act as if she were mad for leaving her Friday night. It was all for show and wouldn’t last long. She could hold a serious grudge, but I could tell she wasn’t really angry. The moment she walked into the party she was probably surrounded by dozens of her “best” friends and barely noticed my absence. The more she observed I wasn’t responding with apologies or asking for forgiveness, her demeanor shifted toward me and she started to smile at me. Her ruffled feathers were falling back in place.

I went over to the dessert table, fanning the napkins. Again. When two people entered the cafeteria, people all around moved toward them. My head jerked up to see what was going on.

Mitch and Julia Harris walked through the door. He was in his mid-fifties; she was in her forties. Both impeccably dressed as always. Julia had the same dark hair and unnerving blue eyes her sons had. She was tall, lean, and elegant. Julia’s congenial demeanor always came off a bit fake, like she was playing a part. Mitch was mostly grey haired, which he kept short. He was tall like his boys and had hazel eyes.

Colton and I dated for almost a year, and I saw his parents maybe a dozen times, mostly at games. They were barely ever home. Mr. Harris was usually gone, flying to New York or Chicago for business. He was merging his construction company with another and expanding into building high-rises. Julia went with him, leaving the boys in the empty house alone. Colton used to joke that Tulia, their maid, was more like their mom than Julia ever was.

His dad owned several construction companies and his mother, Julia, came from old money. Her family was connected to firearms, going back to when we were fighting for our freedom from the British. They lived in this small town because Mr. Harris’s ancestors had founded most of this town and because of the football team. I also thought Mitch enjoyed being the extremely large fish in a small pond.

Seeing them was another poke at my heart. No matter what I thought about them, they’d lost a son. I could not begin to fathom their pain.

They greeted everyone graciously, smiling softly as people tried to convey their sorrows. Julia took everyone’s hands, squeezing or touching their arms, consoling them.

An image of Colton and I popped into my mind. If the accident never took him from me, I realized this could have eventually been us. My entire personality before the crash was like Julia. Had he picked me because I reminded him of his mother? Passive and easy to mold? My fingers gripped the table. What if following in his father’s footsteps meant taking a wife who would shadow his mother’s?

Oh, holy shit.

I was the perfect candidate. A complete people pleaser who didn’t want to upset anyone, always working my world to fit around his. My lungs clenched, my heartbeat pounded in my throat, hinting at another panic attack. The truth was suddenly so clear, so real, it spun my head. I would have been her. I would have let myself become her and not even given it any thought.

When would I have looked at my life and realized it wasn’t mine? Julia may want and like this life, but I didn’t. Was I always this passive? When did I stop thinking about what I wanted and instead did what made others happy?

“Jaymerson?” Mom hissed, waving me over to where the Harris’s were. Her look told me, You are being rude. Get over here now.

I limped over, my new epiphany rolling around my intestines, making me sick.

“Are you okay?” Mom clasped my arms with her hands. “You seem cold and you look pale.”

“I’m fine.”

“Jaymerson.” Julia’s smooth voice sailed over to me, along with the woman herself.

“Mrs. Harris.”

“Please, I think we are passed formality.” She took my hand. “Call me Julia.”

“Julia.” It sat wrong on my tongue and knew I’d probably never call her it again. I had known her for a long time, and she had never asked me to call her by her first name. They were decent enough to me in front of people, but in a reserved, critical way. I got the impression they didn’t think I was ever good enough for their perfect boy.

“It is good to see you.” The same compassionate smile pulled at her mouth. “Colton would be happy you are a part of this.”

No, he wouldn’t. He would think this was the biggest joke. He’d be bored out of his mind at all this. But if it had been me instead of Colton, he would have stood here, nodding and smiling.

Hunter, on the other hand, would probably tell everyone here to fuck off. He already was; by not showing up. At this moment I wanted to do the same, but instead I hugged Mrs. Harris and conveyed the genuine sadness I felt to her and her husband.

Like Julia, I went on with the evening playing a role, while on the inside I was screaming.

 

The lights dimmed, and a screen lowered behind one of the football mothers who volunteered to lead the auction. Images of Colton popped up in back of her: playing football; as a child holding a football, looking so happy; he and Hunter as adorable, dimpled babies laughing in their baby pool; the two of us at the state championship, kissing. One by one more pictures rolled over the screen, candid moments of different times of his life.

“Let’s start the bidding at five-hundred dollars.” She was trying to create sympathy to boost the amount of money people would donate by using Colton’s images. Marketing at its best. All for a piece of metal with his name on it. They weren’t even using his name for a football scholarship or something useful. Just a hunk of rock to pat themselves on the back, thinking they are such giving people.

I bolted from my seat, ignoring my mom’s whispered, “Where are you going?” My dad held Reece on his lap and couldn’t stop me from slipping by.

The cool air hit my lungs, dimpling my flesh. This was the most alive I’d felt the whole evening. I walked around the building wanting to get distance from the people inside. It didn’t surprise me when I realized I was heading for the football field. They could have their dedicated spot under the tree; I was going to the place where Colton would have wanted to be.

The parking lot lamps provided enough light to see where I was going, but enough darkness to stay out of sight. I rubbed at my arms, my sweater back in the auditorium. Lost in thought, I made my way to the middle of the field.

“Had enough?” A deep voice drew my head up.

“Holy crap!” I yelped, my hand clutching the base of my throat as I jumped. The shape of a man lying on the ground at center field stretched out in front of me.

“Had to speak up before you actually stepped on me,” Hunter’s voice rumbled.

“You scared me.” I dropped my hand, moving slowly to him. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

Yeah. Fair enough. It was exactly what I was going to do. It’s where Colton would want to be. I hesitated for a moment. My conditioned response was to move away from Hunter, but I was starting to despise these knee-jerk reactions.

In my skater-style dress, I inelegantly plopped myself down next to Hunter, then laid back. The grass was damp, the night air chilly, but I relaxed into the earth, staring at the stars.

“Did you go in?” I asked.

“No,” he responded. “I’m surprised I even made it here.”

I tilted my head to peer at him. “Why did you? You don’t seem like the kind who would come to something like this, even if your parents asked.”

“They didn’t ask. They demanded. But you’re right. I told them no way in hell, but somehow I still found myself here anyway.”

“Here, I appreciate.” I tapped at the dirt. “In there? None of it’s for Colton. I had to get out before I imploded.”

“Now that’d be something I’d love to see.”

“What?”

“You. Actually losing it. Telling those pompous asses what you really think of them.”

I stared back up at the sky.

“You don’t have to keep pretending.” He stuffed his arms under his head.

“Pretending what?”

“That you’re all right.”

Our conversation on the bleachers Friday came back to me. “No one wants to know the truth. Teachers, friends, my parents. I’m not even sure I do.”

He made a noise in his throat.

“They are trying to be understanding, but I can tell they want me to be magically better. To get past this. I know they don’t mean to, but it makes things worse. Like something’s wrong with me because I’m not healing fast enough.”

We both stayed quiet, taking in the starry peace above.

“I haven’t been to his grave yet,” I blurted out. Until this moment I hadn’t realized the shame and guilt I bore for not going. “I feel awful I don’t have the strength to go. Not yet.”

He was quiet, and I thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but he finally replied.

“I’ve tried several times, but I haven’t quite made it there either,” he admitted quietly. “But it’s only his body. This is where Colton would rather be.”

“True.” I felt relieved at his confession. I wasn’t alone in my resistance. I rubbed at my bare arms, the clear night holding no heat of the day.

“Cold?”

“A little.” I sighed. “I’m not ready to go back there. Think they’d notice if I never came back?”

“Probably.”

“Yeah.” I had no desire to return. “You know who I wish was here? Stevie. She’d have no fear telling these people where they can do with their memorial.”

Hunter chuckled. “I have no doubt.”

“I swear she’s one of the few people getting me through this. I adore that girl.”

“And she adores girls,” he snickered.

“Oh, are you jealous?” I knocked my hand into his chest, then quickly brought it back.

“No, I know she still ranks my ass above yours.”

Laughter shot out of me. It was true. Stevie had listed Hunter’s third. “Maybe, but Suzie’s and Justin’s still rank above yours.”

“Gives me a goal in life.”

I snickered, the smile on my face seeming foreign, especially around Hunter. I let my eyes drop so I could look at him without being obvious.

Hunter was hot, no doubt about it. Because of his personality and demeanor, I never truly looked at him as anything other than Colton’s pain-in-the-ass brother. Intimidating, scary, and trouble. Qualities people tell you to stay away from, and I did because anything outside of my known circle frightened me. The balloon had popped, and now I was seeing everything through new eyes. Including Hunter.

He turned his head, catching me staring at him. I jerked my head forward, analyzing the night sky, feeling a strange sensation pattering around inside. Heat climbed up my neck to my cheeks. Why was I blushing? His gaze burned the side of my face, but I pretended not to notice.

“Jayme—” Anything he was going to say was cut off by my father hollering my name from outside the auditorium.

I sat with a start, looking over my shoulder. My dad walked in our direction.

“Shit.” I got up, with a sharp ache, my tendons struggling to adjust to my speed. “I gotta go.”

“Yeah.” Hunter didn’t sound like he was surprised at all. “Go do your duties.”

“Shut up. At least I’m being supportive.”

He snorted. “How’s it working for you?”

Not very well.

“Say hi to my parents for me. Give them my condolences.”

I crossed my arms, my lids narrowing. “You really are an asshole.”

“So people tell me.”

“Maybe this should convey something to you.”

“Oh, it does.” The way he said it made me think it wasn’t against himself, but what idiots people are.

Dad got to the edge of the field, and I hobbled angrily away from Hunter, reaching my father.

“Who’s that?” Dad’s chin flicked to the figure.

“No one.” I pushed past him, heading back for the auditorium.

“That’s Hunter, huh?” Dad kept staring at the figure on the field but walked with me. A frown turned down my father’s lips and tugged at his brows. The town was small, and he knew Hunter’s reputation.

“It’s cold out here.” I rubbed my arms and hurried my stiff steps. I wanted my father far away from the topic of Hunter.

Hunter could inflict wrath in me quicker than anyone. It was because he went straight for artery, spilling out the truth. Truths I was starting to see, but not ready to face.

I wanted to hate him for it. However, the more anger he invoked, the less I seemed to hate him.