Adventures in Funeral Crashin...

Por MildaHarris

2.7M 39.1K 8.6K

Sixteen year old Kait Lenox has a reputation as the weird girl in her high school, mostly because of her ex-b... Más

About the Author
Chapter 1: Funeral Crashing
Chapter 2: Crushing
Chapter 3: Worrying
Chapter 5: Investigating
Chapter 6: Sleuthing
Chapter 7: Finger-Pointing
Chapter 8: Inspecting
Chapter 9: Inquiring
Chapter 10: Power Lunching
Chapter 11: Funeral Dating
Chapter 12: Freaking
Chapter 13: Interrogating
Chapter 14: Ditching
Chapter 15: Double Dating
Chapter 16: Kissing
Chapter 17: Panicking
Chapter 18: Suspecting
Chapter 19: Murder Solving
Chapter 20: Homecoming

Chapter 4: Confessing

123K 2.1K 450
Por MildaHarris

CHAPTER 4: CONFESSING

Turned out I didn't have to wait until Friday to find out. On most Monday, Thursday, and Saturday nights I worked at Palos Video Store, which was just down the street from my house. I loved movies almost as much as I loved books, so it was a good after school job and I needed the money. I had been working there since the end of my sophomore year and I actually liked it. They let me rent one DVD at a time, unlimited, for free. So, if I wasn't reading, I was watching one of my free movies.

And, just because I like funerals doesn't mean I only watch horror. I mean, I do admit that I'm a total fan of the horror classics (the originals because they've all been remade they're so good), like Dawn of the Dead, Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, and Psycho, but I also have a huge thing for chick flicks. I'm a romantic. I mean, have you seen Roman Holiday or Sixteen Candles or The Notebook? Sigh. So good.  

Palos Video Store was a small store, so there were usually only two people working. Some nights, my co-worker would be the owner of the store, Anne, and she usually hung out in the back unless it got really busy. Other nights, it was another part-timer like me. Some were from my high school, some were from our biggest rival, and there were a couple people from Laurel Community College. My favorite co-worker, though, was Anne, even though she was the boss. Anne tried to work a lot of shifts, actually. The big online rental companies like Netflix were really cutting into her profits and she was trying to save the extra money in her budget. She never talked about it, but we all knew that the store might be on its last legs. I felt bad for Anne, though, that store was her life and she loved it. 

Thursday night, it was Anne and I working the store. She was in the back watching a movie. She watched at least one a day and I was pretty sure she had seen everything in the store, at least twice. She could quote movies like most people could quote sports' statistics. I was not that big of a movie buff yet, although I tried to take a movie home after every shift and watch it. I just couldn't quote everything yet, but I was getting there.

So, I was alone up front, reading the ending of Twilight for the third time. It was quiet in the store. We were closing in a half hour and most people were already at home curled up with their latest movie rental and some popcorn. We were only open until ten thirty, but it was usually dead the last hour.

 I heard the jangle of the video store bells and looked up. Someone was coming in for a movie fix before we closed for the night. As soon as he walked in, though, I knew he wasn't renting a movie. The last person I expected or wanted to see had walked into the store and toward me.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I couldn't help them. I was both nervous and scared and he was also super hot.

Yes, it was Ethan Ripley that was staring back at me and walking in my direction. I froze, the copy of Twilight still in my hands. Movie recommendations for Ethan Ripley ran through my mind, almost ridiculously. I'd recommend: Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, Blackhawk Down, and for fun: Wall-E. Oh God, what was wrong with my brain?

"I was hoping you were working tonight," Ethan said as he stood in front of the counter, his piercing blue eyes watching my face.

He was in regular clothes tonight – well-worn jeans and a faded Green Day T-shirt. I swiped a hair behind my ears, self-consciously. It was a nervous habit, "You were?"

I had obviously also been rendered stupid. I was in big trouble. Ethan had not waited to search me out at school on Friday. He had found my place of employment and hunted me down. Now, that was determination to get an answer out of me. It's not like I could leave work and run away and he knew it.

"So, how did you know Liz?" Ethan asked again.

I still didn't want to answer. "How did you know where I worked?"

"I looked you up on Facebook. It's listed as your job," Ethan shrugged.

Sometimes social networking sucked. I only had like forty friends and most were kids I met at camp in third grade or family. I needed to change my privacy settings. Just because you were unpopular doesn't mean some stalker wasn't going to track you down. Not that I'd mind if Ethan was stalking me because it totally wouldn't be stalking since I'd totally swoon if he declared his love for me. Not that I had any delusions that it was actually going to happen.

Ethan continued, "So, Liz? How did you know her?"

Back to reality. I was starting to sweat. There was no way out of this. Ethan had tracked me down at work after all. Wait a minute – Ethan had tracked me down at work! Okay, not the time to be happy. I was in trouble here. I was being forced to admit I was a funeral crasher and although I don't mind that part of myself, I know my peer group doesn't approve.

"Well..." I hesitated. "It's kind of a long story." Not really, I added in my head. I glanced back toward Anne's office. She was busy watching her movie. I could see the glow of the television on her face through the small office window that looked out onto the store.

"I have time," Ethan prodded.

I was going to have to tell him. I didn't want to! I hedged, "Can I meet you in thirty minutes when I'm done with work?"

It gave me another half hour to figure out the greatest lie ever told and if I ended up having to tell him the truth, at least if I got him to sit down with me, maybe I could explain so that he wouldn't think I was such a total freak. And, I didn't want my boss to overhear. I know Anne liked me as an employee, but still she didn't need to know all of the intimate details of my life. I mean, funeral crashing wasn't like doing drugs, but still. I didn't want to take the chance that she'd be appalled and fire me.

"Sure," Ethan nodded. "My car's parked on the street outside. I'll wait for you to close up."

"Okay," I gulped and tried not to think about the fact that in thirty minutes I'd be sitting in a parked car with Ethan.

"Cool," Ethan said, nodding again, turning around, and walking out of the store.

I had thirty minutes to come up with something. Forget reading. I put my book back into my satchel purse. I stared out into the empty video store. What could I possibly say to Ethan to make this all turn out okay?

Thirty minutes later and locking up the video store, I hadn't come up with anything other than entering the witness protection program and fleeing the state. Somehow, I didn't think they'd take me into witness protection for trying to run away from a cute guy, who's about to find out that I like to crash funerals. Maybe I'd get lucky and aliens would abduct me.

"So, I was watching a John Hughes movie tonight - Some Kind of Wonderful. I think you'd like it. It's with Eric Stoltz and Mary Stuart Masterson and is a classic teen movie about unrequited love and high school. You should take it out next shift," Anne was saying, as I locked the front door.

"Uh-huh," I managed to mumble, even though Anne's recommendations were always the best.

"Are you okay?" Anne asked, peering at me. "You seem kind of distracted. School alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said and then continued, seeing that she might press me. "Just thinking about a guy."

"Ohhh, okay," Anne smiled knowingly.

I attempted a smile back, but luckily it was dark, "Yeah."

"Okay, good night then, Kait," Anne waved, as she walked to her car.

"Good night," I managed as I pretended to walk to mine, as Anne got into her car and drove away.

I watched her car speed down the road and had a brief thought that I could just drive away too. It was an option, but not the one I was going to take. I may have been a social outcast, but I was going to face Ethan like a man, well, a woman in my case. Besides, I knew Ethan would find me at school tomorrow anyway if I didn't talk to him. He already stalked me down at work. And, school could be worse. I could just see Ariel joining in on the conversation and emphasizing my freaky qualities. She'd probably even bring her friends Megan and Sarah. It made one shudder. Ariel was worse than any horror movie monster, including Freddy Krueger from Nightmare on Elm Street.

I scanned the surrounding street and saw Ethan sitting in a silvery blue Honda Civic Hybrid just next to the parking lot, staring at me. I was only a few feet away from escape and my car, but I forced myself to walk toward the Civic instead.

"Hey," I tried to say casually as I opened his car door and sat down in the passenger seat, but all I think I got out was a mumble.

I couldn't get over the fact that I was sitting in Ethan Ripley's car. I mean, it was a totally normal, boring car interior, but yet it felt like such an amazing place. That might have a lot to do with the fact that it was Ethan's and that he was only sitting inches away from me. Focus, focus, I told myself.

"Hey," he said in response, so I guess my mumble did come out coherent. "So? What's the story?"

I gulped. This was it. Panic seized my chest. I couldn't even enjoy being in a car with Ethan Ripley, I was so nervous. This could be the closest I ever got to him. The best two minutes ever! Or, at least from high school. But no, I was too busy freaking out to enjoy it.

I just had to do it. It was like tearing off a band-aid. I sighed, held my breath, and just said it, "I was funeral crashing."

"What?" Ethan looked totally puzzled. "What?"

"I was funeral crashing," I explained, "I saw the obituary in the paper and I thought I would go."

"So you didn't know Liz?" Ethan asked.

I shook my head, feeling mortified. "No."

Ethan raised his eyebrows, "Really?"

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. Don't cry, I told myself. "No, I didn't know her. I was just there for the funeral. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry. She seemed cool. It's really sad."

"That's weird," Ethan said and I felt my heart sink at the judgment I could hear in his voice. "Why would you want to crash a funeral?"

"I..." I started. It was a question that I had been asked before, first by my dad and then Ariel. In a rare moment of distraught weakness, I had actually confided in her even though we had stopped being friends. It had been a total mistake. Regardless, I still hadn't come up with a good answer to that question, except for the truth. "I like them."

"What?" Ethan looked utterly confused. "You like funerals? Why? They're depressing as fuck."

As I watched Ethan run his hand through his silky hair in frustration, I fought a girlish sigh and tried to explain something that I didn't know how to explain, "They can be. They can definitely be the worst moment of your life, but there's something really amazing about them too."

"Like what?" Ethan demanded. I finally got a good look at him and yes, he was super hot and only inches away from me, but I could also see the desperate grief in his eyes.

I looked away from his eyes, "Like how everyone remembers the person that died and not just remembers - there are some great stories, really great stories. Stories that even if you knew the person well, you might never have heard of that story. And, everyone with all these great stories about this person that they have lost is in one room, and they're all talking about this person because they all miss them. They're all feeling that person's presence together. That's what it was like at my mom's funeral. Anyway, that's what I like about funerals."

I was looking at my hands now. I felt too embarrassed to look over at Ethan's reaction to my admission.

"That's true," Ethan smiled slightly, to my astonishment, "I heard some great stories about Liz today from the family and her friends, but I'd much rather have her here with us than be at her funeral."

His voiced choked on the last word. I resisted the urge to lean over and touch his hand. I was a wreck too after my mom had died. After the funeral, weeks went by in a blur.

"I'm sorry," I said, looking into his eyes and I really meant it.

Ethan nodded, "So, you really didn't know Liz at all then?"

"No," I shook my head. "I'm still sorry, though, about her."

"Damn," Ethan swore under his breath.

I felt myself sink even deeper into the passenger side seat. I just wanted to disappear. I couldn't wait for high school to be over, so I could blend into and be swallowed up by the massive population of a state university. How was I ever going to face Ethan Ripley again after this?

Ethan remembered I was still in the car with him, "I was really hoping you knew Liz."

I was confused, "Why?"

Ethan seemed suddenly anxious. That was weird – him anxious to say something to me. He ran his hand through his hair again, his silky hair, "Well, uh, I'm really sorry about this Kait and I don't know how to say it nicely, but I thought you might know something about the drugs Liz was taking."

It took me a second to realize what Ethan was implying. Then, for once, I forgot who I was talking to because I was so furious, "You thought I was a drug addict! Do I look like I do heroin to you?"

I mean, I am not a stick figure. I'm your average weight girl and a size seven. Sometimes I'm a size nine, if I've been really downing the peanut butter banana milkshakes that I'm addicted to from the Wired Coffee Shop. Aren't heroin addicts emaciated or something? What? I was super insulted. I don't do drugs. Not even pot. I don't even drink except for that one time freshman year when Ariel and I snuck into her parent's liquor cabinet. See? She's a bad influence, totally evil, and corrupting impressionable youth. Regardless, I didn't even know what heroin looked like. Come on. I'm no drug addict.

"I'm sorry. I just hoped. It's just really weird that Liz ODed. I can't explain it. I'm sorry if I assumed that you...knew something about it. People talk about you at school, you know," Ethan seemed really uncomfortable.

I was going to kill Ariel Walker because before her, nobody talked about me. Ethan Ripley assuming I was a drug addict was all her fault. She told people all sorts of crazy things about me. Then the rumors went wild and took on a life of their own and people embellished and totally changed the stories – so, one minute I liked going to funerals, the next I took part in witchcraft rituals, and some people even thought I had my own pet cemetery in my backyard. I guess now the rumor was that I was dealing drugs or hooked on them or something. Great. My reputation had a soap opera life all of it's own and with it, Ariel destroyed any chance of a fun social life that I might have had in high school, "Well, let me set things straight. I don't do drugs. At all. And, okay, the funeral crashing is a little weird. I know it, but ever since my mom died it's the closest I ever feel to her and I..."

Whoa, I felt the tears suddenly rushing up into my eyes again. My voice was about to crack and fail me. I needed to calm down or I would be full on sobbing like a baby in front of Ethan. I stopped talking and tried to catch my breath, turning away from him and toward the window.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have listened to the rumors," Ethan sounded sincere.

I turned to look at him, wiping at my cheeks in case there were any tears. I didn't need him to see them. I was humiliated enough.

"I'm really sorry," he continued. "I just can't believe that Liz did heroin. It totally wasn't like her. I thought maybe you knew something about it. Like, if you knew her, even if you didn't do drugs with her, maybe you knew what really happened. Like where she was that night or who she was with."

"Why would that matter?" I asked before I could stop myself. I mean, if he wanted to know the last few hours of his sister's death that was his business. It's not like he was going to be able to change anything, though. 

"Well, I just..." Ethan started and then stopped, thinking better of continuing his thought.

A sudden thought was nagging at my brain and I said it before I thought it over, "Wait, are you saying that you think maybe there's more to Liz's death? Like maybe she didn't overdose?"

Ethan was silent.

The silence dragged on for a moment as I thought about it all, "Wait. You don't think she was murdered or something, right?" 

My eyes were locked on Ethan's as he nodded, "Actually, yes, I think it's a definite possibility."

"But who would have done that?" My voice rose in pitch.

Ethan shook his head. "I have no idea. My parents are a wreck and totally shocked and so are her friends. Everyone liked her. Nobody wants to believe that she was a drug addict. There were no signs, at all. There's supposed to be signs. She was happy. I barely ever saw her upset. I never even saw her drunk, but they've all already accepted that Liz was on heroin anyway because it's on the police report. I can't accept it. It's not at all like Liz to do drugs."

My brain was buzzing, "But there's been a lot of heroin overdoses lately. It was in the paper and everything. Maybe it was the cool thing to do and she just got carried away?"

Ethan nodded, "Exactly. And, they're assuming that Liz was just like the rest of them. They think there's some kind of a drug ring going on at Laurel Community College. That heroin has become the hip college drug of choice. They just can't seem to find the supplier."

"Well, maybe Liz only tried it once, just to try it, " I offered. "And, it just turned out tragic."

Ethan sighed. "But she wasn't the drug type. That's what I keep coming back to. It doesn't make sense."

I let this sink in, "So, if Liz was murdered, then the obvious question is do you think the others were murdered too?"

"Well, yes, it's a definite possibility," Ethan said.

My mind was awhirl with information. If Ethan was right, there had been at least two other overdoses that were potential murders. That would mean that there was a potential serial killer on the loose at Laurel Community College. It was only a hop skip and a jump over to Palos High School, my high school. What if the murderer struck there next? Had the police been fooled by a drug trail, when instead all the girls living around Palos Community College were really all in mortal danger from a serial killer? Or was Ethan just a totally distraught brother unable to deal with sister's death?

I made a snap decision as my mind continued to go over the puzzle. There really might be something to his questions, "I want to help."

I wasn't thinking about the benefit of alone time with Ethan either. I really did want to help. He was so sad and I know how that felt. I'd want to know the truth too. Okay, at least, I wasn't thinkin

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