Franco and Gregory had bonded over teaching each other soccer tricks. Gregory was a popular kid with a heart of gold. Because he was a good listener, everyone came to him for advice, and he never passed judgment. The kids at school joked that we were boyfriend and girlfriend, but I didn't see Gregory in that way. Okay, maybe I did, but there was no way I was good enough for him.

I wasn't surprised when Gregory knocked on my door after school the next day. He had an older sister named Hannah and no doubt could never imagine losing her. He probably felt my pain.

I had bed head and was still in my pajamas, but Gregory didn't care. He gave me a brief hug. Then he flung his book bag over my desk chair. I smiled inside knowing he had rushed to be with me.

"Who let you in?" I asked.

"Your mom. She's in the kitchen with Kina and Angela." He must have noticed how I flinched at the mention of Kina's name, because he frowned, and said, "I'm sorry. I should've called first. Do you want me to go?"

"Of course not. Thanks for coming."

He hesitated before sitting in my computer chair. "I'm sorry, Lo."

"I didn't even get to say goodbye."

We sat in silence for a while. His presence comforted me. I could cry in front of him if I wanted to and he wouldn't judge me or try to make me feel better. He'd just let me get it all out.

To avoid crying, though, I asked, "Did anyone ask about me at school?"

"Everybody did, especially the teachers. They say your family is in their prayers."

I sighed. I would rather hear nothing instead of people being fake. Not that Gregory was being fake. I'm sure he was cringing about having to relay that message. I was happy that I got a couple of days off from school, because if I had to be surrounded by fakeness all day, I'd snap. I'd more than likely fight someone and get expelled.

I got a bright idea. I should convince Gregory to join me in Franco's room, so I could pick out his funeral outfit. Mom wouldn't dare yell at me in front of Gregory. She would have to keep up the appearance of a "happy family." Would Gregory go for it, though? I wouldn't want to scare Gregory off with him thinking I was morbid. He may not be judgmental, but he was human.

For that reason, I wasn't going to tell him my theory of Kina being a killer. Gregory liked her. I'd need proof before he'd believe me. That's why I needed Angela on my side. She was too young and naive to ask questions. She would be my loyal soldier who would hate Kina, because I told her to.

I said, "I haven't even been in his room since yesterday."

"What do you think you'll find in there?"

I closed my eyes. "Peace."

When I opened my eyes, I saw Gregory staring at me. "What's stopping you from going in there? Did your parents ask you not to?" he asked.

That's all I needed to hear. I led Gregory across the hall to Franco's room. To be honest, I didn't know what Mom and Dad's rule was on this. I didn't know if they were depressed entering his room, so they banned all of us from entering, or if they didn't mind. Either way, I didn't care. Nothing was going to stop me from opening Franco's bedroom door.

Everything was still in place--his posters and comic books spread out on the floor, and his Michael Jordan sneakers were hanging out of the closet. I guess it was too early to start packing his things. Would Mom and Dad donate Franco's things to Goodwill? Would they give Franco's stuff to a family member? Would they keep everything intact to deny Franco's death?

My feet glided across the carpet to Franco's closet. Gregory kept the door open and stood in the doorway, either as watchman or he was too afraid to come inside. I didn't have time to ask, though, because I was on a mission.

I went through Franco's shirts in the closet and found his favorite purple surfing short sleeve shirt. I removed the hanger and held it in my hand. I remembered when Dad took Franco and me school shopping at The Outlets. Franco bought the shirt at PacSun. He later confided in me that the shirt had spoken to him; he'd secretly wondered about Mom's childhood in Hawaii because she never spoke of it and he wished to travel to Hawaii one day to learn Mom's culture.

I bent down to look at Franco's sneakers and found his Air Jordan's, the ones that had a touch of purple and black. The perfect match. Franco had worn those sneakers when he beat Dad at a game of basketball, proving he wasn't just good at soccer. He had deemed those Air Jordan's his lucky sneakers, and I could still visualize how his eyes beamed with pride when he won. Dad was an all-star basketball forward in college. He could've made the NBA if he hadn't gotten that knee injury. Dad had wanted Franco to pursue basketball instead of soccer.

I got on my tippy toes and pulled Franco's Baltimore Ravens cap off the top shelf, the one I gave him for Christmas last year. Franco had given me a huge hug and later told me my gift had been his favorite of the day. He had practically worn it every day. I put it on my head, now. It would do, too.

I walked in Franco's dresser and found his plaid shorts. I recalled the summer day Mom brought the shorts home for Franco. He hadn't liked them at first because they weren't jeans. But, one day at the mall, a bunch of girls flirted with him, admiring how he wasn't afraid to be different. Then, just like that, all of his friends started wearing plaid, too. Franco had started a fashion trend. That's how cool he was.

I placed his stuff on his bed. That was the easy part. Now, I had to convince Mom and Dad to use that outfit instead of the boring, stuffy disaster they were planning on using.

I looked at Gregory, who had his hands in his pockets. He was looking at me sheepishly. After meeting his gaze, I peered past him. Mom stood behind him. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she had a tight-lipped expression on her face. Gregory turned around to see what I noticed. When he did, he kept his hand on the doorknob.

Mom took a step closer and stood in the doorway. "What are you doing, Loren?" Her voice sounded hurt and confused, not angry.

Did she honestly not remember last night's conversation?

I motioned for her to come closer. "I picked out Franco's outfit. It should be the last outfit he wears." I looked at the bed and smiled.

Mom sighed, not budging. "We talked about this already."

"I know, but last night, I didn't have a visual. Come on, look at it. You'll agree that Franco will look better in this."

Mom stayed in the doorway. "Put his clothes back, Loren."

"No." Tears formed in my eyes. I let my guard down, no longer worrying about Gregory thinking differently of me. "It's not fair! I know him better than you!"

Mom patted Gregory's hand. "Maybe it's best if you leave now. You can visit Loren tomorrow."

Gregory glanced in my direction. Frowning, he mouthed, "I'm sorry."

"No," I pleaded. "Please don't make him leave."

"I'm sorry, but we'll discuss it later."

"That's bullshit. We'll discuss it now." I folded my arms across my chest.

"Loren Aini Carey, that will be the first and last time you ever cuss at me!"

Let's just say I got on Mom's bad side for the rest of the day. When will parents learn that giving their kids a timeout in their bedrooms is not a punishment? Don't worry, I won't tell our little secret. I mean, think about it; my personal space has everything--a comfortable bed, a mini-fridge, Wi-Fi, Netflix, my Wii and a bunch of games to go with it, my iPad, and my iPhone. The only thing missing was a bathroom, and that was right across the hall.

I was playing Candy Crush on my iPad, leaning into my comfortable pillows with my legs stretched out and my ankles crossed, when someone knocked on my door. I hid my iPad under my pillow before I laid down on my back. I wanted Mom to feel guilty for leaving me up in my room and sending Gregory away. How would I ever find the right words to apologize to Gregory for Mom's awful dictatorship behavior? I closed my eyes slightly to give the impression that I was bored and may have fallen asleep. Was that Mom's ultimate plan?

At least I only had one more hour to go for it to be safe for me to fall asleep. 

Instead of barging in my room, the person knocked again. I rolled my eyes. Mom was really milking this silent treatment. She was not going to force me to talk. Another knock came. I clenched my jaw, got up out of bed, and walked over to the door.

I jerked it open and glared down at Kina. Her fist was raised, as if she was going to knock on the door again. I folded my arms across my chest. She looked down at the floor, avoiding my stare.

"Mom says dinner is ready."

I stepped closer to Kina, bumping into her. She stumbled backward, but she caught her footing. She kept her gaze on the floor as she took a step back.

"What did you say?" I snapped.

She lowered her head. I bet to hide the nasty smirk on her face. I was tempted to scratch out my own eyeballs, so I never had to look at the little brat again.

Kina spoke a little louder, "Mom says dinner is ready."

"Will you be down there?"

"Yes."

I slammed my shoulder into hers. "Then no thank you."

Her back crashed into the wall.

"I don't eat with killers," I said.

She winced in pain and rubbed her back. Her bottom lip trembled. Her voice was shaky as she said, "I'm sorry, Lo. I didn't kill Franco, I promise. Please forgive me."

"Yes, you did, you little bitch. The police are investigating as we speak, and they'll be arresting you soon."

"Lo, please."

"I hate you. Get out of my sight."

Kina pretended to cry, but, hello, no tears. I clamped my hand over her mouth. With my free hand, I snatched her by the arm and pulled her inside my room. I shut the door gently. Slamming the door would cause Mom to come upstairs to check on things, and my best chance of survival was to deal with them one on one. That way they wouldn't be able to tag team me. In that case, I would lose, and losing meant death.

I let Kina go, although I wanted to squeeze her arm some more, but I didn't want a bruise to form and tip Mom off. "Shush, I told you what would happen if you tell anyone about our conversations."

"I'm sorry, Lo. Please."

"Shut up and listen. I'm not going downstairs with you."

"But..." Kina's bottom lip remained trembling. Still no tears. "But Mom wants you to eat with us. She asked me to come get you."

"I don't care."

"What will I tell her?"

"Tell her I'm not hungry, but we both know the real reason I'm not eating."

With slumped shoulders, Kina walked away. What an actress.