Page 8 of F*cking Shattered
I laugh to myself and fold the page back up. I continue digging through the box and find random postcards from the trips we have taken together over the years. I find matchbooks with guys’ numbers written on them, guys I probably promised her I’d call and never did. There are sea shells from our trips to the Key’s and other pictures of us throughout our years together, but it’s the unfamiliar hot pink envelope in the bottom of the box that steals my attention.
I pick up the envelope and open it to find cash and a note.
Jo, if I know you, you are probably missing me like crazy right now. If this is true, take this money and join me on the trip of a lifetime. But don’t wait too long! You don’t want me to get to all the hot guys before you can get here!
Love your best friend,
Katie
My eyes fill with tears that stream down my cheeks, landing on the letter.
When could she have put this in here? Did she sneak into my room when we had our last night together? I clutch the money to my chest, unsure of what to do.
I can’t believe she did this.
My eyes fall to the list she made that’s setting on my bedside table, the one I’ve read over a hundred times now. I look over her cursive handwriting. “Take a trip— for fun not work.”
I look at the money and note in my hands.
I know what I have to do. I have to take Katie’s trip.
I have to cross off everything on this list.
I have to live for us.
* * *
The week passes by too quickly for my liking. Before I know it, it’s Katie’s funeral. I pull on a black dress and heels and check myself over in the mirror. I pull my hair off my neck and into a sleek bun. I look at the makeup that lines my vanity, makeup that Katie probably bought for me.
“Learn to apply makeup,” I say, remembering her words.
I turn on my phone and open the Youtube app to look for makeup tutorial videos. I laugh at myself. This is crazy. How is a Youtube video going to teach me to do my makeup?
In an attempt to try, I watch the video and repeat the steps until my face is painted. I look at myself in the mirror.
My usually plain face is now covered in blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and lipstick. It doesn’t look like I had a seizure doing it either. It’s not the best, but I consider it a win!
I reach into my bedside table, pulling out the list, and write, “Learn to apply makeup”. Then I check it off.
“One down, Katie.”
* * *
I’m numb through the entire funeral. I have to be. I can’t let myself feel all the emotions that are threatening to crash down on me right now because they would cripple me. My chest feels tight, my heart literally hurts, and my lungs burn, needing to take in more oxygen, but I can’t give them anything more than what I’m already giving them.
Holding my breath is the only thing that is keeping me from bursting into tears. My body feels dragged down and tired, even though I’ve slept more this past week than any other. I have to force every step I take.
I have to force everything.
I sit quietly in an uncomfortable chair and stare at the forest-green carpet. I can’t look around at her friends and family falling apart. Just thinking about having to talk to someone about the good times Katie and I shared brings tears to my eyes. I don’t want to talk about her like she’s gone. Because to me, she isn’t gone. She lives on with me every day.
As everyone files out, I accidentally look up at the big framed picture of her. Her blonde hair is hanging down around her face in loose waves, her blue eyes are bright and happy, and she looks completely carefree, the way she always did. A sob makes its way up my throat as my eyes flood with tears.
My dad puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me out of the door and to the car. I slide into the backseat and rest my forehead against the window, watching everyone in their black clothes cling to one another on the sidewalk. Tears flow from their red, bloodshot eyes down their flushed cheeks. I see her mom fall to her knees in a grieving fit while her dad tries to pull her back up to her feet.
My heart cracks just a little more.
Chapter Three