When Friday rolled in, almost all of the emotions Adam had been struggling with for weeks seemed to drain out of him. He sat woodenly on the end of his bed, hunched over and tying the laces of his black dress shoes. They were shiny and uncomfortable. Grandmother had taken him to get them yesterday and they were not yet broken in. His suit was slightly large on him, as it had been his fathers, and the combination of the too-new shoes and too-old suit was stirring up feelings of queasiness in his otherwise empty body.
He rose up from his bed to look at his face in the mirror, to make sure he didn't have dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept the past two nights and it showed. He looked like someone had ripped out the veins from under his eyes, blended them up, left them in the sun for a while, and then, when they were purple and rotting, shoved them back underneath the thin skin of his eyes. He dragged his fingers roughly across the bags.
"You know, Darling, rubbing them like that is only going to make them red, not turn them back to the way they were," his Grandmother said softly from his doorway. He jumped a foot in the air, cursing, and his finger stabbed into his right eye.
"Ow! God da-Grandmother! I didn't see you there. Ouch that hurts." His Grandmother came into his room and fretted over him for a little bit as he attempted to shoo her away with claims that he was fine.
"Is it time to go?" he finally asked in a last ditch attempt to stop her from worrying over the damage he hadn't really done to his face. His Grandmother nodded solemnly. Her hand drifted from his eye to rest on his cheek.
"Tell me, my dear, do you really feel up to this? Speaking at her funeral is... It could be stressful for you. I'm just nervous... Aaliyah shouldn't have asked you to speak after what happened on Monday. Are you sure? Do you feel like you can do this?"
He leaned briefly into her hand. It was warm, an ember of safety that he could briefly hold onto. He wished that he was four years old, that the owner of this suit was here, that he wouldn't have to think about anything except whatever four year olds were concerned with. It felt like an eternity since he'd had to think about silly things instead of whether he was really up to speaking at the funeral of one of his best friends.
"I don't know," he whispered, "I don't know. But I have to try. Mrs. Rossini was right. Blue would have wanted me to. I know she would have."
"If you insist, I can't stop you. Here."
His Grandmother removed her hand from his cheek to press something into his hand, taking that ember of warmth away from his face and leaving his cheek cold again. It was some kind of talisman. Polished crystals and sea glass tied into the approximate shape of a person with a waxy, shiny twine. The scent of salt and sea rose off of it, so strong that Adam wondered how she had even managed to make it smell like that. It smelled exactly like the ocean. The little polished rock head stared back at him, faceless and blue. He had the sudden urge to hurl the little talisman across the room.
"Your pocket," his Grandmother said. He stuffed the talisman into his suit pocket.
"Alright, then. Nothing more to be done. Let's go," his Grandmother sighed. They set off towards the funeral, the syncopated beat of their footsteps against the concrete the only sound they offered to the world as they crossed through the streets and paths that led to the cemetery. It was at the heart of the town, where it had always been since their town was founded, and many of the graves were hundred of years old. A portion of the graves were marked with the same small empty circle engraved at the top that indicated there was nothing beneath the headstones but an empty box. Blue's headstone would have that insignia. A shiver inched up Adam's spine, getting stronger and stronger the more circle insignias they passed. He realized that his fingers had somehow crept into his pocket the deeper they got into the cemetery and they were wrapped tightly around the little talisman in his pocket.
He shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Rossini when they got to the right plot. He hated how much they looked like Blue. Blue's smile, Blue's hair, Blue's long, thin fingers. He could hardly look them in the eyes.
"Thank you again for agreeing to speak, Adam. You and Chase both. I know how hard it must have been for the two of you. I feel like the three of you were inseparable. She would have really appreciated the two of you standing up in front of everyone like that," Mrs. Rossini said gently. Her voice was strained, like she had been yelling for hours before the funeral. His lips moved up. He said something back to her. He turned, found his chair. He sat down. Chase hadn't arrived yet. He waited, his eyes firmly on the grass and dirt in front of him. The sharp spears of grass did not move as he watched them.
"I hate being here. This tie is like, choking me, or something," Chase said, sticking his fingers aggressively into the neck of his tie and tugging wildly. He loosened the tie until it hung limply at the midpoint of his chest before slumping down on the seat beside Adam. Adam's Grandmother was seated on Adam's other side, but her entire body was turned to Mrs. Rossini as they discussed... something in quiet, tired voices. Adam couldn't even summon the energy to snoop.
"I do too. Do you think she would have really wanted us here?"
Chase smirked, "Hell no. Blue would've told us to get as far away from here as we possibly could. She told me once that if she ever died somehow, she would want to be cremated. Have her ashes sprinkled out at sea. That was where she belonged, she said. Out at sea, drifting far far away."
"Yeah. Riding the tides to the end. She's the only one who liked surfing."
"Crazy about it. Absolutely psycho."
"Yeah, she sucked at it though," Adam snorted.
"So so bad. She was so bad."
The chattering crowd grew suddenly silent as the Rossini family climbed slowly onto the platform beside the coffin. Adam had been trying his best not to look at it, at that mess of blue flowers and leaves sprawled artfully across it, but he couldn't prevent his eyes from drawing to it. It was so big. So shiny. It caught the rays of the sun and glimmered brightly. Adam pushed a hand through his hair roughly, feeling the strands settle down across his face. The sun beat down and the priest talked and the Rossini's talked and Adam couldn't help thinking what a nice, quiet funeral it was. Blue probably would have liked it. He had lost track of time completely until Chase rose up stiffly beside him and made his way onto the platform. He looked strangely small next to the casket. Like a child.
"Hi," he said, his voice holding only the smallest of quivers, "for those of you that don't know me, my name is Chase Weber, and I just... wanted to say a few words about Blue. She was really great. The best. Um... I first became friends with Blue in the second grade. She was the craziest person I had ever met. She told me her real name was Barbara, but she hated it, so she told me I had to call her Queen B. We were pretty much inseparable after that."
The audience laughed softly.
"Blue was such a force. When she set her mind to it, she really made it happen. I'll... I'll miss that about her. About halfway through second grade, she noticed there was this new kid who always sat alone in class. He was really quiet and I guess that put kids off or something, but that certainly didn't put her off. It was like her mission to make him friends with us. She kept trying to talk to him, but he didn't really seem interested, which, if you know anything about Blue, really pissed her off."
The audience laughed again.
"She hatched a plan. She said she was going to bring him over to our side no matter what. She told me that she needed me to guard the door to the art room. No matter her age, she really knew how to boss me around. Um... right. So, we went to the art room during recess. It wasn't allowed, but Blue didn't care, and I promised her I would watch the door. I lasted about a minute guarding the door before I went back outside. I was afraid of getting caught. When we came back inside, she was standing in the corner of the room, covered in blue paint, holding something in her hand as Ms. Abdur yelled at her. She had painted Adam a friendship poster. And she...." Chase's voice faltered. The audience was no longer laughing along with his story.
"She didn't care about getting caught. She just wanted Adam to have a friend. She wanted us all to be friends together. That's who she was. She was the kindest, craziest, best person I've ever met. I don't think I'll ever meet someone like her ever again. I don't know how to do this without her. I-I know she would want me to keep going, but I just... I'm sorry. She was the best person I've ever met. She was the best."
The cemetery was no longer quiet and lovely. It was full of sniffling and tears, the rustling of tissues and shifting seats, and, worst of all, Chase turned slowly to the coffin beside him, the tears running freely down his face.
"I know you're not in there," he said, so quietly that Adam could barely hear him, "But I miss you. I miss you so much. I wish you were still here. I miss you so much."
"I'm sorry," Chase said more audibly. He stepped down from the platform, dragging his hand across his eyes, and slammed down into the seat next to Adam, his breath coming in soft, shuttering pants. Adam's eyes did not move from the grass around his shoes.
"Um... Thank you, Chase. Adam? Would you like to come speak?" Mrs. Rossini asked. Her hands were reached out to him, beckoning him forwards. She wanted him to make the audience, to make her, laugh the way Chase had done at the beginning, so they could pretend like those silly little childhood stories would stop the grief that was clogging up their veins. He knew they did. What else could they possibly want from him right now? He couldn't breathe. He wished he had a pair of scissors to slice the stupid tie right off his neck.
"Adam?"
He stared sullenly at his feet. The spears of grass stayed pointed up at the sky. That stupid, bright sky, with its stupid, bright sun, lighting up Blue's coffin like a precious jewel or a Christmas ornament. He couldn't move a muscle, even if he had wanted to. He wished the spears of grass would grow and thicken and stab through the bottom of his chair, and then through him, and then through that stupid blue sky. He was aware of Chase and his Grandmother speaking to him alternatively but he didn't know what they were saying. The coffin lowered down into the ground and the people around him rose up. They threw dirt onto that stupid empty coffin and said stupid empty words. The sound of the dirt hitting the coffin was like a horrible itch at the center of his back that he couldn't scratch. He flinched every time. The noise of the dirt clumps shattering on wood smacked through his head, making it throb. His headache was made worse by the low hum of people talking around him. Were they done with the dirt throwing? Was it time to leave?
"Um... Adam, right?"
He looked up slowly to look into the face of the girl who had spoken. It was one of the girls who were talking about Blue on Monday. The quiet one, who hadn't really said anything. She was standing uncertainly in front of him, her fingers worrying the edge of the wide brimmed hat in her hands. He didn't know her name.
"I just... wanted to apologize about Monday. About what we were saying about your friend Blue. There's no excuse I can make. There's no excuse. She seemed like a really great person. I'm really sorry," she said. She had big, wide brown eyes. They were glossed over slightly with tears in a way that made her face look like a little doll. She blinked those amber-set eyes slowly, pitifully. Adam could see Chase, standing a respectable distance away from the two of them, watching the two of them carefully. His eyes shifted dully back to the girl. She was watching him anxiously, her fingers worrying her hat a bit faster now.
"I-I'm sorry. This was probably a really bad time to tell you that. I'm sorry. Um, I'm just really ashamed and that was just so-so selfish of me, wasn't it? I'm sorry," she mumbled, her voice taking on an even more distressed tone. She took an uncertain step back, her cheeks flushed slightly pink. He was struck with how pretty she was. He hated it.
He vaulted from his chair. His beat was thumping wildly. He had to go. He turned, leaving her, leaving Chase, and marched from the funeral. Chase was calling his name. He broke into a run, his shiny new shoes slapping painfully against the pavement. He couldn't stay there, he couldn't go home and see those weird symbols all across the door and feel the darkness of his room, he couldn't go to Chase's. He didn't want to think.
He slowed to a stop in front of Tammy's Sammies. He pushed open the door.
"Adam? What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the reception? You're not scheduled today," Ken said. From the way he was looking at Adam, you would have thought Adam was a ghost, Blue's ghost, there to personally haunt the sub shop.
"I-I want to pick up a shift," Adam stuttered. Tammy's head was poking out of the main office at the commotion. Her eyes coasted along the length of his body, his full suit, taking in the way the hand that was outside of Adam's pocket was clenching and unclenching. She shook her head.
"Tammy, please. Ken. Please, please," Adam muttered.
"Adam, you need to go home. You look terrible," Ken said. He reached a slow hand out towards Adam and Adam jerked back.
"No, I just need to not be there for a second. I need to not think, please. Please."
"Hey, excuse me? I get that the kid's like having a crisis or something, but I need to order. I need to leave in fifteen minutes," a customer broke in. The woman's face was looking impassively at the three of them, a menu in one hand and her cellphone in the other. Adam glared at her.
"Can you MIND YOUR BUSINESS? Who do you think you are? The President of the United fucking States? Not everything is about you and your stupid sandwich! I can't believe you even wake up every morning! What a fucking waste of space," Adam snarled, his voice so loud that it seemed like it was going to shatter the windows of the sandwich shop. The woman's mouth fell open, her cheeks reddening.
"You have NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! WHY DON'T YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND SAVE US ALL THE TROUBLE! PEOPLE HAVE REAL PROBLEMS IN THE WORLD, LADY, AND THE FACT THAT WE HAVE TO PUT UP WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE PAYING TWELVE DOLLARS FOR SOME MEAT IS RIDICULOUS! IT'S A SANDWICH! A SANDWICH. GROW UP!" Adam screamed. The words were spewing out of him. He could feel his eyes stinging again. He whirled around, storming from the shop, feeling the wetness start to overflow in his eyes again. He refused to lose it completely in this sandwich shop.
"Adam! Adam!" Tammy had flown out the door after him. Her hand locked around his arm and she whirled him forcefully around to face her.
"What is wrong with you? Are you serious?" she demanded. Her face was torn between fury and concern, a strange mix that left her expression twisted in a way that was unfamiliar to Adam.
"I'm so tired of tourists getting away with being assholes, Tammy. What am I supposed to do? Just let them keep getting away with abusing you and Ken and I? Am I just supposed to sit there and take it? I can't do it anymore. I quit. I can't do it. I can't. I quit."
Tammy stared at him.
"I just... quit," Adam repeated softly. His fingers were crushing down around the talisman in his pocket. It was warm now from the heat of his fingers.
"No. Resignation not accepted." Tammy said. She lifted his chin so he was forced to meet her eyes, "Adam, I've known you since you were in diapers. I know you feel weak right now, but everyone feels weak sometimes. Do you know what you've been through? You can't let this take you down like this. Blue wouldn't have wanted it."
"I'm so tired of hearing that. How do you know what she wanted? How do any of us? She's not here. She's gone. She went walking around during the full moon and now she's gone. Stop saying she would have wanted me to do anything. I wanted her to still be here, but we can't always have everything we want, can we?"
"Adam, life is never simple. Of course we can't have everything. We can't have Blue back, and we can't go back into time to stop her from walking, and you can't quit. That's life. Things change, we march on."
"I think that's stupid."
"I know you do. It doesn't change the fact that you're going to show up for your shift tomorrow morning. Come on, kid. Come on. I'll walk you home. Ken can watch the shop. Come on." She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and the two of them began to walk down the concrete path that led to Adam's home. She didn't try to speak to him and he was grateful. She led him down the back pathways, the way she had done when he was little and when she was walking him home from a sneaky sandwich outing. His thoughts went back to the little talisman clutched in his fingers, lying limply at the very bottom of his pocket. He thought about its blue face, forever blank and cold. This time, though, it didn't make him want to throw the thing into the sea. He was worried that if he did, somehow it would find its way to Blue, and the two of them would lay at the bottom of the sea together, forever, cold and stone still and far, far away from him.