Page 23 of Soul So Dark

I should reply with something witty, but instead, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Do you want to playDestinysometime, orDark Souls?”

Alex is silent for an inordinate amount of time, which makes me think that I’ve just embarrassed myself beyond comprehension. I didn’t plan on saying this, but it’s what I do when I’m upset; I descend into a fantasy world until it’s safe to come back out. I usually play with Austin and Maddie, but suddenly I remember that Maddie went and sawZero Reckoning, too—without me—and now playing with them doesn’t sound as appealing as it did a few minutes ago.

But maybe Alex can’t relate to any of that. So, now I’m toggling between hope and total mortification as I wait for him to respond. I start wondering if he’s even still there until he finally breaks the silence.

“Give me your phone.”

I surreptitiously take my phone out of my pocket and unlock it before setting it on the console. It disappears and then reappears a few moments later, presumably with Alex’s phone number saved in it. The entire exchange is surprisingly exhilarating, taking place literally behind Colson’s back. Whatever, I don’t know what I want—people to be more attentive or just fucking leave me alone—but it lies somewhere in between, which I can’t begin to explain.

A few minutes later, the group begins to disperse. Alex shuffles around in Colson’s backseat for a few more seconds and then climbs back out, shutting the door behind him. Colson rises from the hood, reaching behind Bryce and squeezing her ass cheek. She jumps a little and keeps her eyes locked on his until he gets to the driver’s side door.

Is she his girlfriend now?And gross.

Aiden and Alex head toward Aiden’s black Lexus and Alex continues further down a few spaces until he stops at a cream-colored Lexus SUV, much older than Aiden’s, with a black grill guard and roof rack. The tires are knobbier than most cars and the back window is covered in stickers from places like Cuyahoga and the Smokies and Niagara Falls.

“OK,nowdoyou want to skip out and go to the creek tomorrow?” Colson asks as he starts the Civic.

Before Bryce and her friends can move from the front of the car, he revs the engine as loud as he can, making them jump in surprise and scurry out of the way. No, I still don’t want to go hang out with his friends all day, but I also don’t have any desire to come back to school tomorrow. I start to wish it was the weekend, but as soon as I do, dread begins to seep into the pit of my stomach. Then I hear my mom’s voice.

One day at a time…let’s just get through Saturday, yeah?

Saturday.

Maybe I can make it to the weekend and then get through Saturday. But all I have is amaybe,and even that is asking a lot.

CHAPTER NINE

Alex

I should be an expert on funerals—what to wear, how to act, how to cope with the corpse of a loved one being put on full display for everyone to cry over. I should feel grateful; some people have no one, but having a big family doesn’t make it any easier.

The grey stone church in Canaan is already crowded, nestled at the top of a hill surrounded by willows and maples and catalpas. It would look positively charming on this warm spring day with its cement urns overflowing with flowers and ivy crawling up the ancient stone walls if it didn’t contain the murdered corpse of Evie Maguire inside of it. It looks like the entirety of Canaan is here along with a sizeable chunk of Dire Ridge. The entire roster of Dire Ridge’s soccer team is here along with a mass of girls who are crying more than anyone else, which is probably Canaan’s softball team.

I didn’t know what Colson would be like, having to be in the same room as Evie’s remains one week after he physically pulled them out of a galvanized pipe. He’s calmer and more focused than I thought he’d be.

And that’s more unsettling than anything.

Adrian spends most of the visitation off to the side with Evie’s father, Scott, immersed in shop talk—the easiest escape with someone he knows won’t pry into his emotions. Scott and Adrian are very similar, much more similar than Aiden and Mason’s fathers, whose shop talk usually involves business contracts with many more zeroes on the end.

Standing near Evie’s casket with Colson, the one thing I’d forgotten was how exhausting it is to beonfor that long. I don’t envy Colson, having to speak to everyone that walks by. Funerals are such bullshit; the last goddamn thing you want to do is host an event where you’re forced to talk about the person you’ve lost with everyone they ever knew. I wish I could switch places with Col and just do this for him since I’ve already done it—twice.

Mason’s not doing as well, lingering against the wall just gazing around the room like he’s looking for something. Maybe Colson’s low-key rage is keeping him going, but Mason’s been off ever since he came out of those woods. He’ll pull it together enough in school to seem relatively normal, but there’s still a far-off look in his eyes like it’s replaying over and over in his head.

The only time he looks remotely alert is when Bryce, Logan, Jordy, and Tyler enter the room and begin making their way through the crowd. It’s also the only time Sydney steps away from Aiden’s side. It’s bizarre, but I don’t question it. Grief does things to people. Tyler rushes ahead of the group and raises her arms, embracing Sydney as soon as she’s close enough.

They look strikingly similar, both dressed in knee-length Navy blue dresses that hug their figures, Sydney in nude pumps and Tyler in brown leather wedge sandals. It makes me wonder if they planned it, which wouldn’t shock me. It also wouldn’t shock me if it were total coincidence. After only a few months, it’s almost like they’re melding into the same person.

Meanwhile, Dallas just looks uncomfortable, gazing around the room absently as the crowd threatens to swallow her up if she gets too close. Her friends have already been here, but she looked as happy to see them as a mouse about to be eaten by a cat. Otherwise, Dallas probably has no clue who most of these people are. So, she just stands at her mom’s side, in her black wrap dress with purple wedges. She’s wearing glasses again, and they’re also purple.

To match her shoes.

I usually don't give a shit about a girl's makeup, but for some reason I can't stop looking at Dallas's. And it's nothing special; she's barely wearing any. But I think it's how her sharp, winged eyeliner whisps away from the corner of her eyes and makes them pop against her black hair and fair skin. They get even bigger when she smiles, like she did when I took her back to class the other day. But not today. If anything, Dallas is trying to move her face as little as possible because if she does, her chin starts trembling and she has to fight the corners of her mouth as they pull downward.

I glance back and forth between her and Colson, who’s talking to Bryce while Logan’s moved on to Sydney. Now that I have nothing to do but stand here and watch everyone, I’m not sure how Dallas and Colson can be related. Evie always looked more like him than Dallas does. But Dallas would fit right in with the women in my family, with her long black hair and that dump truck of an ass.

Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?

I look down at the digital face of my watch, relief washing over me when I realize the graveside service is starting in less than 15 minutes. I just want to get it over with like everyone else. There’s a small tug on the arm of my black button-down and when I turn, I see Jordy’s dewy, airbrushed face and overly smoky eyes at my shoulder.