The day was unseasonably bright for early November in Idaho. Jaci looked up at the afternoon sun, glaring brilliantly down on the small group gathered in the grassy meadow. Birds tweeted in the trees, a note of cautious surprise in their song that winter had not yet come to stay.
It all felt wrong. Funerals were supposed to be dark and gloomy, with clouds bursting with rain and thunder rumbling overhead while mourners dressed in black gathered beneath umbrellas, water trickling from the edges.
That, at least, would match Jaci’s mood.
The pastor from Joey’s church droned on, praising Joey’s love for his family and the way he watched out for his younger brother. Jaci carefully avoided looking over at his family. She wasn’t sure if she could face them. The emotions broiling through her were too complex to fully analyze. Was the preacher going to mention how Joey betrayed her? How Joey’s downfall was his brother, always caught up in the next exciting big thing that would inevitably lead to illegal activities?
No, the preacher didn’t say any of those things.
He also didn’t mention how Joey died saving Jaci.
She dropped her eyes to the foliage at her feet, studying the brown and orange leaves that partially obscured what remained of the green grass. The preacher might not say anything, but she knew. And Joey’s family knew. Did they blame her?
An arm went around her shoulders, and Jaci lifted her head to see her mother pulling her closer. Mrs. Rivera’s eyes were red, her nose pink to match. She didn’t know everything that happened between Jaci and Joey; all she knew was that her daughter’s ex-boyfriend was dead. Any mother would mourn.
Next to her, Jaci’s little brother Cesar sobbed openly. He’d adored Joey.
Jaci’s throat choked up, and she tried to banish the image of Joey’s easy grin from her mind. The way he looked when he walked, his long gangly legs forced to slow down to allow her to keep up with him. She took a shallow breath, inhaling through her nose and out through her mouth the way she had been trained to do during cross-country season.I hate him, she told herself. Or tried to.I should hate him.
But she didn’t. He betrayed her in the worst way, manipulated her, lied to her, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t hate him.
The tears slipped down her cheeks, hot as they traced their way down. A breeze blew by, chilling her face as it licked against the wetness.
Wasn’t the pastor done talking yet? She sensed a restlessness about her, and lifted her eyes just enough to see Joey’s brother, Caleb, shuffling his feet. He also kept his eyes down, his expression unreadable. He was the cause of all this, Jaci thought with a stab of—what? Anger? But even against Caleb she couldn’t dredge up any anger. The guilt he must feel was worse than anything she could heap upon him.
The pastor finished—finally—and he closed his Bible. People began stepping forward, dropping roses on the casket six feet down. His family, his friends from school, most of the cheerleading squad, half a dozen other girls Jaci didn’t know.
She turned around and started away from the site, moving gingerly on her sore ankle. She had gotten a mild sprain just a few weeks ago. Any unexpected pressure hurt. She could hide the limp if she went slow, but she moved as fast as she could now. She heard the whispers and murmurs, knew her classmates wondered why Joey’s ex-girlfriend wasn’t paying homage to his grave.
“Jaci?” Her mother caught up with her and looped an arm around her waist. “You didn’t want to give your regards to Joey’s family?”
Jaci shook her head, swallowing hard against the painful knot in her throat.
“Está bien,mija,”her mom murmured, her grip comforting. The three of them made their mournful trek to the line of cars parked along the grass.
They were almost to the car when a male voice called out, “Jaci! Wait!”
The voice was so like Joey’s, but a bit deeper. The pain washed over Jaci again. Joey should not be dead. It didn’t matter what he had done to her. He should not have had to atone for his mistakes through death.
She turned around and faced Joey’s younger brother.
Mrs. Rivera let go of her and guided Cesar to the car. “We’ll wait inside.”
Caleb stood almost a full head taller than Joey. He skidded to a halt, pulling up short in front of her as if he hadn’t expected her to stop.
Taking a deep breath, Jaci said, “I’m sorry about Joey, Caleb.” She didn’t offer a smile, and she offered no further condolences. Caleb had been there when Joey died. He knew Joey’s death was as much his fault as hers.
“How are you?” he asked, nodding at her shoulder.
She glanced at it, even though she no longer wore the sling from the dislocation. “Fine.”
Caleb licked his lips and his eyes darted around, and then he stepped closer. “Joey would want you to have this.”
Only when Caleb thrust it out to her did Jaci notice the package in his hands. Like a manila envelope, but smaller and padded. “What is this?”
Caleb offered her a lopsided grin. “Answers.”
Answers. The thing Jaci yearned for most. She accepted the package, trying to hide the way her hands trembled. Would this tell her if Joey had ever cared for her? Would it tell her why he betrayed her? Joey would not have died for her if he had not cared for her. Or maybe it was just his guilty conscience. What she wanted was to hear it from Joey’s mouth, to hear his explanation. And that was something she would never have.
“Thank you,” Jaci whispered. She lifted her eyes, finding the courage somewhere to reach out to Caleb. “How are you?”
Caleb looked down, his mouth working. When he looked up again, his expression seemed torn, as if he wasn’t sure what face to put on. “We’re moving. You won’t see us again.”
She nodded. She understood what it was like to have lost, to feel it so deeply in your bones that the only way to be free was to escape.
There was no escape for her. No matter where she went, the events of the last few years would haunt her. “Good luck,” she said.
“If Joey were here, Jaci, he would tell you how sorry he is.” Caleb’s eyes shifted to the sky again and then back to her. “He really did care for you.”
Jaci nodded in affirmation, though the words of comfort meant little coming from Caleb. She turned away from him, climbing into the car beside her mother before he could see the tears once again snaking down her face.
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