Page 13 of Wrapped in Hope

I’m walking in a daze, completely lost in thought as I move toward my mom’s car. I take my seat in the back, and don’t look anywhere but at my hands in my lap until I’m told that we are at the funeral home. I couldn’t bear to look up and see our little town unchanged by this drastic loss. I don’t want to see the memories of him that linger.

I walk inside the funeral home with my head hung low. I can’t look around and see all the grieving guests. I can’t see his aunt and uncle with their accusing stares even though I deserve it. I sit in the very last row, the one furthest away from his casket and his distraught guardians.

Finally unable to keep my eyes trained on my hands, they pop up to see Mrs. Brantford clinging to Mr. Brantford for dear life, like her legs can no longer support her. She’s crying so loudly. With every shuddering breath she takes, a small piece of me dies.

My mother walks to their side and Mrs. Brantford releases her husband and latches on to my mom — they’ve always been close. Mr. Brantford walks away with deep lines forming around his bloodshot eyes. My father moves toward him and they shake hands, exchange a few words, and walk away together. I’m left all alone. I guess I better get used to it.

* * *

I slam my locker shut and spin around to go to class, but I bump right into Dean, bouncing off his hard chest.

“Whoa, are you okay?” he asks, steadying me.

I look up into his beautiful eyes and swallow down the lump in my throat. “I’m fine. I didn’t see you there.”

“Can I walk you to class?”

I smile. “I’d love that.”

He takes my hand in his and he leads me down the hallway toward my English class. “What do you want to do this weekend?”

I shrug. “I’d love to run away for the weekend. Do you think our parents would approve?”

He lets out a deep laugh. “And where would we go?” he asks, going along with my little fantasy.

I quickly think it over. “Oh, I know. I’ve always wanted to rent a cabin at Giant City. Just you and me, completely alone. We could pretend we are the last two people on Earth.”

We’re in front of my class now so we stop walking as we spin around to face one another. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to spend the whole weekend alone with you, but neither one of us have the money to pull something like that off. Plus, our parents would go ape shit and you know it.” His lips turn up into a grin.

“One of these days?” I ask with a hopeful smile as I latch on to the front of his shirt.

“I promise.” He leans in and quickly brushes his lips against mine. The kiss is short, but it lingers on my skin.

“I’ll meet you at your locker before lunch,” he tells me as he’s backing away, rushing off to his next class.

I stand and watch him walk away. I don’t move until he’s rounded the corner, out of my view.

I take a deep breath and turn to walk inside my class just as the bell rings.

* * *

I jumpawake and look around the room. That dream was so vivid. I can still smell him. I can still taste him: mint and a deep woodsy flavor.

The hairs on my body stand on end. It feels like he’s been in this room, watching me sleep. Was all this brought on by a dream, or was he really here in some form? Tears swell in my eyes and it annoys me. God, when will they stop? How do I even have any liquid left in me right now?

I lie back down and curl into a ball. My ribs ache in protest, but I don’t care. I deserve to be in physical pain.

I continue to look around the room, like if I try hard enough, I’ll see him.

“Dean, I’m so sorry. I would gladly trade you places. Please don’t leave me alone. I need you,” I cry out loud.

When there is no sign of him, I roll over to face the wall. I’m going completely crazy. I’m talking to nobody.

He’s not here.

He’s dead.

I can’t see him, smell him, feel him, or taste him.