Silverlighters (revised version as I edit)

10

Too hard.

Too quickly.

I’ve heard it said that death makes us cling more fiercely to life, that it makes us more passionate. That we do things we wouldn’t normally do. And in the same way Beck clung to me, I would find myself clinging to Jonathon, confused by the strength of the emotions I felt for him.

When he finally let me in, finally showed me he wasn’t like them, everything changed.

  *   *    *

The memorial service was held at the school.

The day was clear, the air cold and crisp.

We walked in silence across the school grounds, wearing sky-blue armbands in memory of Chris. Sky-blue was his favorite color. It was also the color he’d been wearing the day he died.

Behind us was the soft murmur of the rest of the students who had chosen to attend. I’m pretty sure just about the whole school was there.

We reached the gap in the trees that served as the entrance to the area where Chris’s memorial would take place. Standing on each side of the gap as we passed through were two juniors holding baskets. A boy with sandy brown hair, wearing a sky-blue sweatshirt, and a girl with long blonde hair. Her light blue cashmere sweater brought out the color of her eyes. Inside the baskets was a sea of armbands.

A lump formed in my throat, making it hard to swallow. I knew they meant well, but it just made it harder.

Melissa glared at them as we walked past, but Beck offered them a watery smile.

All the blue just made images of Chris’s broken body flash through my head. There was no escaping it. Even the sky was blue.

We passed through the trees, coming to the area where dozens of rows of seats had been laid out. The first few rows on the left were already filled with Chris’s family and their friends, most of them staring straight ahead, their backs to us.

At the front was a lectern that had blue material covering it. Attached to the front of it was a large photograph of Chris, his face smiling and his large blue eyes shining as we made our way down the grass aisle.

It was an eerie feeling to have him watching as like that.

Beside the lectern was a large board that was obscured by a small group of girls who were staring at the photographs of Chris that were displayed on it.

As I watched, a girl with long auburn hair that shone in the sun pinned something to it, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Beck squeezed my hand, tears pouring down her cheeks. I put my arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into me, crying harder. Beck’s feelings were there for all to see, she was so simple and uncomplicated that way. With Beck, what you saw was what you got.

Me – my feelings were much more complicated. With all the emotion surrounding me I felt tears sting the bridge of  my nose. But it felt wrong somehow, selfish even, to give in to them when I hardly knew him.

When their pain was so much more and Melissa walked straight and stiff ahead of us, her eyes dry and hard and angry.

She stopped when she saw Chris’s parents and his younger brother sitting at the front.

Knowing what I knew made it hard to look at Chris’s family. I glanced behind me, and was glad to see there was no sign of them.

I thought Melissa would sit with Chris’s family, but instead, her shoulders suddenly dropped, and she moved into an empty row in the middle, sitting on the third seat.