The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried(52)

“I would have if I’d known you’d been stewing about it this whole time. She said something shitty about you and then about me, I took care of her, and I didn’t think about it much after that. Besides, you weren’t out yet. You didn’t need some uppity fake Brit messing with your head.”

“But still,” Dino says. “Why didn’t you tell me? It would have cleared up so much.”

“I guess I didn’t think I needed to,” I say. “I thought you knew I’d never intentionally hurt you.” I sit quietly for a few moments unsure what’s going through Dino’s mind. Then I say, “Still not-dead. Guess your theory was wrong.”

Dino looks up. “Fuck you, July.”

“I’m pretty sure Death already has.”





DINO

REGARDLESS OF WHAT JULY BELIEVES, I still think I’m the reason she’s not-dead. That it’s our friendship she can’t let go of. If it were her parents and Jo, she’d be annoying them instead of me. I’m not discounting their pain, but they got as much closure as they’re going to get. They know why July died and that there was nothing they could have done to prevent it. They had a beautiful funeral and got to say good-bye, and July even occupied the coffin of honor for it. If there are any unresolved issues there, I don’t know what they are.

But our friendship has been the centerpiece of both of our lives for years. Before we stopped speaking, I’d have had a difficult time recalling a single memory that didn’t involve July Cooper in some way. I kind of figured July and I would be together until the end. Even when I was with Rafi, and July was giving me the evil eye in the hallway between classes or across the cafeteria during lunch, there was a tiny part of me that believed we’d find our way back to one another. I think July must have too, and that she actually returned from death and is keeping everyone else in the world from dying until we finish this.

The problem is that July also may be correct that our friendship is beyond repair. Maybe there’s just no way out of the boxes we’ve forced each other into.

I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about, and thinking is pretty difficult squeezed between Theo’s younger brother, Will, and Grandpa Karl. None of us are particularly comfortable at the big round table outside on the patio at Loggerheads for Delilah and Theo’s rehearsal dinner, but at least the view of the ocean is nice, and it’s finally starting to cool down now that the sun is setting.

Theo and Dee are sitting across from me, and I can’t tell whether my sister’s enjoying herself or praying to every god she knows the name of that she not throw up. She flags down the waitress for another drink.

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Delilah?” Grandma Sue asks.

“Probably not,” Dee says at the same time as I say, “How do you expect her not to drink surrounded by this group? Hell, I’ve got a flask in my car.”

The joke earns me some laughter, but Mom and Dad glare at me sharply. “You’d better not have,” Dad says.

I hold up my hands. “Kidding, kidding.” Then I start to stand. “Be right back.”

Theo awkwardly high-fives me across the table, while most of the adults stare down their noses in disapproval. We haven’t been here long, but the conversation has ebbed and flowed in a natural way. Sometimes the entire table is involved, sometimes people break off into smaller pockets. I do feel slightly bad for abandoning July in the funeral home, but it’s nice to talk about something other than her or us or death. I’ve spent so much of the last two days connected at the hip with my not-dead ex–best friend that it began to feel normal and I forgot what normal is supposed to feel like.

I think it’s supposed to feel like this. Maybe. Normal is relative. And stupid.

“So you’re a senior, Dino?” Mr. Kang asks. Dee and Theo are showing the grandparents pictures of their new house, which is actually pretty nice, so no one’s paying attention to me.

“This year,” I say.

“You must be excited,” Mrs. Kang says.

I offer a smile with my shrug. “I guess.”

Will elbows me. “Senior year is such a breeze. Take a bunch of electives and slide by.” Theo’s brother is a year older than me, but he’s got a baby face that makes him look two years younger.

Mrs. Kang purses her lips. “Not everyone is content to slide by.” She turns to me. “Your parents say you’re very good at science.”

“I’m okay. I think I like it more than I’m good at it.”

“What will you study in college?” Mr. Kang asks.

“Everything?” I say with a laugh. “I’m kind of a dilettante. I get hyperfocused on a subject for a while, learn as much as I can about it, and then get bored and drop it.”

Grandma Sue leans forward. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re going to become a mortician like your father and sister.”

“And mother,” Delilah adds, but then she mouths sorry when I throw her an evil look.

“Do you want to be a mortician?” Mr. Kang asks. “I admit to not knowing much about the business, but it sounds intriguing.”

Both Grandma Sue and Dad look like they’re going to fight to see who can speak first, but thankfully the servers arrive with our dinners, and the conversation dies. Loggerheads is a seafood place, so there’s a lot of snapper and lobster and tuna. I ordered a burger. I’m peeling back the bun to remove the pickles when Grandma Sue starts up again.