The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried(38)

“Better than what?”

“Better than what I bring out.”

“That’s not true.”

I said it out of instinct, but the more I think about it, the truer it feels. “Look at us. Instead of appreciating the miracle of my resurrection or going on a grand adventure to track down the truth of my return, I caused a car accident; I stole your car, was recognized, and nearly got you arrested; I lied to and farted decomposition gasses on your friends; I gave you advice that you somehow interpreted to mean you should break up with your boyfriend; and we’ve been fighting nonstop.”

Dino growls. “The accident wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t fart on my friends. Just near them.”

“Bad enough.”

“Come on, July. You’re the one who helped me see that working in the mortuary wasn’t the future I wanted.”

“Some help,” I say. “You had a life planned out, and I trashed it and left you with nothing to take its place.”

Dino sighs. “Figuring out my life isn’t your job.”

“It should be,” I say. “You’re pretty terrible at it.”

“Me?” he says. “It’s not like your life was on a fast track to success before you . . .”

“Died?”

“Yeah.”

“At least I was happy,” I say. “At least I was doing what I enjoyed instead of moping and shitting on other people for being happy.”

“What’re you even talking about?”

I turn toward Dino and give him my best “you know what I’m talking about” face. It’s a good one. I spent hours perfecting it in the mirror. “Good luck?”

“That’s what you’re mad about?”

“Among other things,” I say. “It was opening night. You could’ve walked by me without saying a word like you’d done a hundred other times in the halls at school, but you looked me dead in the eye and said ‘Good luck.’ Were you trying to kill me?”

Dino bows his head. “I only came backstage to say hi to Benji and Dan. I didn’t expect you to come strolling out of the boys’ dressing room. You surprised me, and I said the first thing that came to mind.”

I frown and nod knowingly. “It says a lot that your instinct was to curse me.”

“It’s not a curse!” he yells. “It’s a ridiculous superstition!”

“Ridiculous to you,” I say. “Saying that to me the way you did? You may as well have shoved me off the stage and stood over my bloody body, cackling.”

Now Dino rolls his eyes and, okay, maybe I went a little too far with that last one. “Did you get hurt?” he asks. “No. You were fine. The performance was fine.”

“Actually, I got a tickle in my throat and couldn’t hit the high note during my solo, ruining the whole number.”

“If I didn’t notice, trust me, no one else did either.”

“So if it’s not important to you, then it doesn’t matter?”

“Says the girl who abandoned me at Walmart to go to 7-Eleven, nearly got arrested, and gaslighted a schoolmate to save her own ass.”

Enough. I get out of the car and slam the door and stomp to the rear entrance of the funeral home. My plan was to also walk in there and slam that door behind me in the most dramatic fashion possible, but the door’s locked, so I have to stand in the shadows and wait for Dino to decide to get his ass out of the car and let me in.

When he does, I shove him aside and march to where this nightmare began.

“Why are we here?” Dino asks. “What’s the plan?” There’s an edge to his voice, but mostly he sounds weary, and I understand the feeling.

“I’m through.” I motion at my rotting body. “I need this to end.”

“But how?” Dino asks. “We wasted the whole night, and we still don’t know why or how you’re even possible.”

“Look, rising from the dead was like waking up.” I shrug, trying to look casual, like none of this is touching me. I hope Dino’s buying it. “So maybe dying is as simple as going back to sleep.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“Yes.” We square off and stare at one another for a moment. “Why do you care? Didn’t you say there needed to be a funeral tomorrow? Well here I am.”

Dino keeps standing there with his arms hanging limp like he can’t believe this is his life. “I only said that to convince you to tell someone about our situation.”

“That’s not happening.”

“What if this doesn’t work?” Dino asks. “What if you try to go to sleep and you can’t? Are you going to let them bury you alive?”

“I’m not alive.”

“Whatever!”

I cross to Dino and rest my hands on his shoulders. “I can’t go on like this. Let me try it my way. You can check on me tomorrow. If I’m still not-dead, we’ll tell my parents. Okay?”

Dino clenches his jaw, and I can practically hear him grinding his teeth trying to come up with an objection. “Why do you think this will work? Just tell me that.”

“I’m July Cooper,” I say. “Have you ever known me to not get what I want?”