The Art of Revenge

15 - Not Alone

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   I straightened out the leather jacket that I wore with some jeans since today I was going to go visit Alan’s grave with Jace. It was the morning and he said that he had to do some things and that we could just meet up there around noon. I was about to grab my keys to drive there when I got a call.     

            “Hello?”

            “Peyton?” Jace’s voice said from over the receiver. His voice was raspy and I think I heard a sniff in the background. “I’m sorry that I’m calling so late but don’t come to the cemetery.”

            “Are you alright?” I asked with concern.      

            “Y-yeah,” His voice cracked. “Look, gotta go. See you tomorrow!”

            And with that, the line ended.

            I sighed and flopped down on my bed. Jace was definitely not fine so what should I do? Should I just stay here while he’s alone for yet another year?

            I made my decision as I grabbed my keys and walked out the door. I put my car—well, Dillon’s car—into reverse and sped down the street to the graveyard that Jace told me to go to yesterday.

            When I got there, I parked and jumped out of the car quickly. I started running through the place, not stepping where there would be bodies of course, while looking for Jace but I couldn’t find him. Let me tell you, running in a tight jacket, skinny jeans, and boots wasn’t an easy task either.

            I saw some people having their own burial ceremony so I slowed down to give them respect and that’s when I noticed Jace near a tree, slouched down. I sprinted over there and he looked up when I was close. I noticed that his cheeks glistened so I quickly sat down and wrapped my arms around him.

            “I told you not to come…” He whispered.

            “I knew you’d need someone here.”

            I looked at Alan’s grave and it said his full name, his birth date and death date, the place where he was stationed, and what force he was in. We stayed there for minutes in silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I played with the hair on the back of his neck while he mess with my fingers.

            “You know, I’ve never cried in front of any of my friends.”

            “So, I’m the first?” I smiled and he gave me a little chuckle.

            “I never felt like I trusted them enough. Sure, Dillon is my best friend but I also think he’d laugh in my face if I ever opened up to him like I did to you a few days ago. He’d probably call me gay or something like that.”

            I pressed my lips together in a hard line, “I’m sorry…”

            He gave me a light smile, “Don’t be. I should be sorry for being such a baby in front of you.”

            I kissed his forehead and squeezed his hand that was in mine. “You shouldn’t be. Everyone cries… it’s healthy.”

            He gave a lifeless laugh and laid back onto the ground, pulling him with me so my head rested on his chest, looking at him. “Guys shouldn’t cry. Well, straight ones at least.”