Keep Quiet(85)

“No, just keep going. You can do it. Write what you feel.”

“I can’t write what I feel. I feel sad and weirded out, that’s all. We all are, so sad. I don’t know how we’ll run without her. We’ll lose to Methacton for sure. Nobody wants to run. I think we should cancel the meet. We just cry, like, all the time. Her wake is tomorrow, and we’re going in uniform, like a tribute to her.”

Jake felt terrible and he knew Ryan did, too. “Then write about Kathleen. Write about what she was like, as a person.”

“That’s what I tried to do, but I can’t.” Sabrina sighed again. “That’s why I said she was friendly and nice and everything, but I didn’t know her that well, and we weren’t that friendly, then she got tight with Courtney and Sarah and Janine Mae. I’m not good at giving speeches, anyway. I can’t do this. I should’ve told Coach that I can’t do it and it’s really too important and I’m failing at it, epically.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, you’re not. You’re doing fine.”

“I’m not, I suck out loud! I’m going to let everyone down!”

Ryan shrugged. “Why don’t you tell a story about her? Sometimes if you tell a story about somebody, that tells the audience something about them. Like we studied about in The Great Gatsby. People tell stories about Gatsby before you even meet him.”

“Great idea,” Jake said, grateful. “It will cheer them up, too.”

“Och.” Sabrina dropped her chin into her palm. “There’s a lot of stories about her, but I don’t know if they’re good enough to tell.”

“Like what?” Ryan asked, swallowing visibly.

“Like she really liked to sing on the bus, and she had a good voice, but that’s not good enough.” Sabrina cocked her head. “Well, also, she was superhot and all the guys on the boys’ team really liked her, but that’s not a good story to tell at something like this, either. Right, Ryan?” Sabrina turned to him, knitting her forehead. “Like remember when Sam and Caleb, they both asked her to the Halloween dance? That’s not a good story, is it?”

“No.” Ryan flushed.

Jake stepped in to rescue him. “Sabrina, I think Ryan means you should tell a story about her, about something she did.”

“Oh, right. Totally.” Sabrina thought a moment. “She was really good with computer graphics, and she made an awesome website for the travel track team. It had animated gifs and everything.” Sabrina brightened, straightening in her chair. “In fact, oh, I have a good story, a better one. There was the time she raised the money to buy shirts for the travel team, that’s a good story. We all had the same singlets, but our gym bags and T-shirts didn’t match. We never looked as good as the other travel teams, like Great Valley always looked awesome. They even had matching scrunchies, blue-and-white.”

Ryan nodded, with a shaky smile. “Good. Then tell that.”

“But that’s not the story. Your dad said tell a story about her, like something she did. That doesn’t tell what she did. I didn’t get to that part yet.”

“Okay.” Ryan pursed his lips, and Jake could see that was the last thing he wanted to know. He prayed Ryan could get through tonight and the next few weeks. Jake would never forgive himself if Ryan tried to hurt himself. He’d quit Gardenia and go on twenty-four-hour suicide watch, if that’s what it took.

“Anyway, Kathleen got everybody together and she got this idea where we would stuff envelopes for free to get the money for the T-shirts, and we all worked together and we had the money in, like, four weekends, all because of her.” Sabrina brightened. “And the coolest thing was that we all had fun, like we weren’t doing another stupid bake sale or standing out in front of the Acme, begging for money in front of an oaktag sign, like we were Brownies or something. It was like we worked for our T-shirts, all of us together, the way a team should be. It was a really different idea and she thought it up herself.” Sabrina stopped abruptly, her smile fading. “Except she won’t even get to see the gym bags. They didn’t come in yet. We got the T-shirts and the scrunchies, but the gym bags take longer. She’ll never get to see them … now.”

Ryan paled. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Jake. The only sound in the kitchen was the huh-huh-huh of Moose’s panting.

Sabrina looked over at Ryan, her eyes shining. “Ryan, what do you think? Is that a good enough story?”

Ryan sighed heavily, but couldn’t even muster up a smile. “It’s great, Sabrina. Just great.”





Chapter Forty-one


Night fell hard and cold, and White Springs Road was congested with stop-and-go traffic, heading to the high school for the memorial service. Jake sat in the passenger seat, tense, while Pam drove them in silence. They’d exchanged pleasantries for show at home, putting up a false front for the kids, and she’d freshened up, drained a cup of coffee, and changed her shoes. She drove without looking at him, sitting ramrod-straight, her eyes fixed on the road.

We can’t go back, we just can’t. I can’t. I’m done. I can’t forgive you, ever.

It hurt Jake to be so close to her, in the familiar intimacy of her car, while she walled him off. He knew that she had to be dreading going to the service tonight, and she felt all the guilt and shame he did, but with an overlay of anger and resentment. He wished he could comfort her, but he was the cause of her pain. Their coats touched, but they couldn’t. He could smell her perfume, but he couldn’t kiss her. He was married to her, but she wanted a divorce. She had slept with someone else, maybe even last night. He felt heartbroken and furious, both at once.