See You in San Francisco

06 | overly caffeinated

          "It's okay."

          She dropped her hand, smoothing down the creases on her black dress, and nervously looked around us. The benches were filling with people and soon there would be no room left for the two of us. I knew we were all supposed to sit together—at least, that's what everyone else expected us to do—and pretend to be some kind of picture-perfect group of friends mourning June.

          We were mourning, but we weren't perfect—we hadn't ever been, and we sure as hell wouldn't start being one now. We were just that good at playing pretend and had even managed to fool each other for a while, but our house of cards was beginning to crumble.

          "We should go find somewhere to sit," she continued, standing on her toes. Her pink hair stood out in the middle of all the natural colors, and people were staring—both at it and at how the two of us were clogging the aisle by simply standing there, not doing anything. "I think I see some empty seats next to Xena."

          I looked down at her. "You want to sit with me?"

          Courtney furrowed her brows, staring up at me as if I had randomly started reciting poems in Japanese. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

          "You know." I ran a hand through my hair, even though I knew we were just stalling and delaying the unavoidable. We couldn't simply run out of the church before the ceremony and casually waltz back in time to see the casket be lowered to the ground; the mere thought of that vision sent shivers down my spine, upsetting my empty stomach even more. "We're not—"

          "Leon, we're friends, we're all hurting, and we all want to support each other." She grabbed my arm once again, squeezing even harder than before, and dragged me behind her as we made our way towards Xena. "You're being supported by your friends, whether you want to or not."

          I knew there was no point in arguing with her, and I certainly wouldn't be the type of person to make the funeral revolve around me, not to mention we had already wasted enough time, so I obeyed like a well-behaved puppy. Xena gave us a polite nod and a small smile when we sat down, letting Courtney hug her for a brief moment before going back to patting her cheeks with a paper tissue.

          June's parents sat in front of us, along with Grace, Christina, Sofia, Meridian, and Sofia's own parents. Part of me couldn't help but feel like I should have joined them, but, at the same time, I didn't want to be forced to deal with Sofia, regardless of how childish that sounded.

          (And, trust me, I was well aware I was throwing a tantrum, but that wasn't the right time to admit it out loud.)

          The church immediately went silent as soon as the official ceremony began. My chest tightened when June's parents stood up to speak to the crowd in front of them, her mother before her father, and that was when the whispering slowly restarted. People attempted to dissect their speeches as much as they possibly could, as if they were experts on the art of mourning and could tell whether two grieving parents were doing it properly.

          I quickly found out multiple people thought June had killed herself. I clenched my fists over my legs, knowing that couldn't possibly be true; I'd known June like the back of my hand, better than I knew myself, and, if I had even suspected she felt so terrible to the point of taking her own life, I would have done something to help her.

          Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I hadn't noticed, maybe I had shrugged it off. She was always so quiet an extra moment of silence wasn't alarming to me, but perhaps it should have been.

          I could have done something. I could have stopped her—from going to that motel that night, from texting everyone, from dying . . .