Jaded (Jaded #1)(74)

Bryce grinned and stood up. He dangled his keys and remarked, “Let’s go. The thing is going to start soon.”

Bryce drove. I rode shotgun and the two lovebirds sat in the back.

Corrigan mused, “What is a vigil? Technically?”

“It’s a state of observance and prayer,” Logan answered him softly.

“So why can’t they just say that we’re going to get together and pray for her?”

Corrigan asked. “That’s stupid. It’s like making up a name for another name of what we’re actually doing.”

Bryce and I were quiet, but Logan had the answer. She said calmly, quietly, “There’s a lot of opinions about what we’re supposed to specifically believe in. I think it’s just a way to make everyone happy by stamping a vague description on it.”

“But that’s…,” Corrigan started. “That’s stupid. If people are praying then that means they’re all praying to their god, right? And yet, it’s called a candlelight vigil?”

“There’s a lot of specifics about a general concept,” Bryce noted. “People want to have a say about those specifics because—”

I finished for him, “Because in the end, we have no say whatsoever.”

“We die, we die,” Corrigan put it simply. “We go where we’re supposed to go.”

Bryce tipped the rearview mirror so he could meet Corrigan’s eyes. He murmured, “You want to think of Stephen going somewhere that you’re not? What about your mom?”

Corrigan shrugged again. “I won’t care. I’ll be dead or they’ll be dead. They’ll be happier than me because I guarantee, if anyone’s going to heaven, it’ll be them before me.”

Immorality and immortality. I wondered about the relationship between the two or if there was one.

“She’s happy,” I murmured, to myself, but the car heard. “That’s all I care about right now. If there’s a heaven or whatever—I’m sure she’s there and I’m sure that she’s happy.”

“Yeah.”

Corrigan had heard too. He added, “She’s dead. She might’ve died an awful—”

He choked off abruptly.

Logan frowned and glanced over.

“She died because of me.” I said softly.

“No,” Corrigan said first.

Logan frowned.

Bryce shook his head and said roughly, “Shut up, Sheldon.”

The car turned another corner and it wasn’t until we’d covered a mile before I asked, chilled, “Do you think he’s going to be there?”

“Shut up, Sheldon!” Bryce cried out. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t…this night is about your friend and that’s it.”

“This isn’t about you,” I cried back.

Logan and Corrigan didn’t move.

“Yes, it is!” Bryce snapped. “Yes, it is and I’m done with it. I’m done with this loser who’s just a coward. I’m done with it. We’re going to this damned vigil and we’re not talking about that psycho.”

An uneasy chill settled over the car.

Corrigan broke it as he commented, “I don’t think you’re supposed to say

‘damned vigil’ together. That’s like…what’s the word? A dichotomy or something?”

A relieved giggle broke from Logan that was quickly covered up.

Bryce shook his head and sighed, “Shut up, man, just…shut up.”

I said softly, “For the record, I wanted to talk about it and you didn’t.”

Bryce sighed another ragged breath and uncurled his clenched fingers from the steering wheel. “Can we…not right now?”

“Fine.” I fell back against my seat.

“Fine.”

Corrigan sighed dramatically in the backseat and groaned, “I think today has been the longest day in the history of my life. It won’t end!”

Bryce fell silent and resumed his driving duties.

I sighed and folded my arms across my chest.

I heard Logan lean and whisper in Corrigan’s ears. He laughed softly and said, “No, it’s not like that.”

The rest of the drive wasn’t long and it took five more minutes before we arrived.

The parking lot was overflowing at Holy Mount Church and Tabernacle. Even at night, the college’s campus was a serene portrait. The sidewalks were bricked with burnt red and dusty rose colored tablets that matched the building’s bricked fortresses.

It seemed the entire school’s population had shown up for the candlelight vigil.

Inside the tabernacle, candles were placed along the aisles and at the end of each row of chairs. The stage was masked in thick blood-red robes, roses of every color, and candles.

Bryce grabbed my hand and led us to the narthex where we could sit above the rest. Corrigan and Logan followed close behind and Bryce snuck us into a back corner where little attention was spared in our direction.

As we sat, Bryce released my hand and I looked at him. He refused to meet my eyes so I slowly slid my hand down his arm and entwined our fingers.

Bryce held limp, glanced at me, saw the quiet yearning, and tightened his hold over mine.

“Whoa—how many candles do you think are on there?” Corrigan leaned over our chairs.