Instead of You(19)

“Crazy?” I asked, confused.

“Well, I think you might be somewhat of a spectacle,” Becca said, holding open the door for all of us. I gave her a questioning look, still not sure what they were talking about. “It’s always been you and Cory. No one has really seen you since he died, so seeing you might make people act weird.”

“Nothing too crazy,” Holly jumped in, “just people staring, maybe asking you questions. We just want you to be prepared.”

“Okay, well, I appreciate it. But I just want everything to level out.”

“Just let us know how we can help.” This came from Todd, Cory’s best friend. I looked at him then, really looked at him, and I could see the residual sadness. He looked tired, his hair a little longer than he usually wore it, shaggier, and he was missing something, some lightness that he usually carried around with him. I wasn’t the only one who’d lost a friend. They were suffering right along with me. And yet, they were all there offering to help me in any way they could.

I didn’t deserve them.

“Thank you, guys, I appreciate all your concern.” I turned and headed up the small staircase that would lead me to the senior hallway where all our lockers were located. “Just make sure you save me a seat at the lunch table and I’ll be fine,” I said, adding a laugh. It was a forced one, sounding totally fake, but it was the best I could do at that moment.

As was usually our routine, Todd kissed Holly good-bye, and he left with Becca. They had first period together, while Holly and I had our first class together on the other side of the school. As they said their good-byes, I absentmindedly turned the dial on my locker and pulled it open.

I was face-to-face with my favorite picture of Cory and me. It was taken at a prom after-party from the previous spring. One of Cory’s friends from the swim team had invited nearly the entire school to his house, claiming his parents were out of town, so everyone would be chaperone-free. We all brought tents and made campfires and had the best time.

I don’t remember who took that photo of us, but I remember it being posted on Facebook and making me smile immediately.

Cory and I were sitting on a log next to each other, both of us with a red plastic cup in our hands, both of us in sweatpants and t-shirts, and we were laughing hysterically. It was a moment caught in time in which we were both completely carefree, young, and happy. I also remembered why I liked it so much the first time I saw it; Cory wasn’t touching me.

He didn’t have his arm around me, we weren’t holding hands, he wasn’t pulling me to his side and kissing my temple, like he so often had.

We were just sitting next to each other, laughing. And we looked like the best of friends.

I grabbed the book I knew I’d need for my calculus class and slammed the door to my locker shut, the loud bang echoing down the emptying hallway.

“Everything all right?” Holly asked, giving me another concerned look.

“Yeah,” I lied, “I’m just not looking forward to catching up in math.”

“Don’t worry,” she said as she looped her arm through my elbow, “Mrs. Williams will go easy on you. All your teachers will. Everyone wants to help you, not make your life harder.”

I hoped she was right.



The day went pretty much as my friends predicted. Whispers and long faces met me at every turn. People who used to give me friendly smiles in the hallway were giving me frowns and sympathetic eyes. There were some friends who avoided me altogether. That I could understand and appreciate. I hadn’t dealt with much death in my life, but when a friend’s grandparents had died, I’d always immediately clammed up. What do you say to someone when something so terribly sad and completely irreversible has happened? I’m sorry? I’m thinking of you? There was nothing anyone could say to bring him back, and the unusual facial expressions drove me crazy—like it physically hurt to talk to me. So the people who avoided me? I silently thanked them for saving us both the uncomfortable encounter.

My teachers had all gone above and beyond, like Holly had said they would. I’d been given packets of work I’d missed with very generous deadlines. My English Literature teacher had even pretty much indicated she’d look the other way if I never turned in the work at all.

At lunch I’d done my best to act like everything was normal. I’d sat at our usual lunch table, I’d eaten my usual turkey sandwich and Diet Coke, and then I sat and listened to my friends trying to make conversation. I watched them try to pretend that every day at lunch they hadn’t discussed me, which was why they were having a hard time now carrying on a normal conversation.

So I decided to do them all a favor and remove myself from the situation. They tried to protest, asked me to stay, but I was practically at my breaking point.

My next class was gym, so I headed to the locker room, changed into my uniform, and then went outside to run a few laps around the track.

No one else was using the track so the only things I heard were my feet slapping against the asphalt and my breaths pushing out then pulling back in. I didn’t have to avoid anyone’s eyes, or listen to anyone tell me how sorry they were. Nope. I just had to feel the sun pounding down on me.

The only problem with the running was that I couldn’t escape my own thoughts.

When it finally came to the last class of the day, I knew it would be the hardest one. I’d been anticipating it all day, knowing if any class would be uncomfortable, it would be World History. It was the one class Cory and I’d had together that year. For the first time that day, I was wishing for either Becca’s sad eyes or Holly’s uncontrollable mouth. I’d put up with either one of them if it meant a buffer from the wall of emotion I knew I’d hit as soon as I walked in the room.