(unedited)
Another tear, another cry,
Another place for us to die,
It's not complicated.
Another life that's gone to waste,
Another light lost from your face,
It's complicated.
"Autumn Leaves" -Ed Sheeran
I woke up to an insistent buzzing.
It took a moment of groping blindly around my nightstand before I found my phone. I squinted my eyes at the bright light, hitting the answer button without quite managing to read the Caller ID. "Hello?" I answered, slurring the word a little my only partial consciousness.
"Elle?"
If he hadn't used that nickname, I wasn't sure I would've recognized Ashton. He didn't sound like he normally did, his voice hoarser than usual. I glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. The number 2:48 blinked back at me in a red light that was all too bright for my still adjusting eyes.
"Ash?"
He didn't respond.
I sat up, wrapping the blanket around me. "What's wrong?"
"Why would you assume that something's wrong?" he choked out, a bitter edge in his tone.
"Well you're calling me at three in the morning," I replied quietly. I stifled a yawn, shaking my head to get rid of the remaining drowsiness.
"I know. I'm sorry," he said. The apology hung there, like there was more that he wanted to say, but he didn't speak another word.
"What's wrong?" I repeated.
"I- It's Skylar's funeral tomorrow," he whispered, his voice catching.
And in that moment, I was wide awake.
"I can't- I don't know to write for her eulogy and it's tomorrow," he continued.
"You don't have to do it," I told him.
I heard a quiet rustle from his side, him shaking his head maybe? I could almost picture the grimace on his face from his tone. "I think it's a little too late to back out now."
"Just write what you feel. It doesn't have to be a poetic novel," I said.
"She deserves that though," he argued.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't like I believed that Skylar didn't deserve something like that, but it wasn't up to Ashton to write it. Not now at least, not so soon.
"What did you say for your parents?" Ashton asked, breaking the silence I had caused with my uncertainty on how to answer.
I stilled.
Blake and Avril.
What had I said?
Ashton took my hesitance as reluctance. "Sorry," he said. "You don't have to answer that."
"No, it's okay, I just..." I trailed off. I shook my head even though he couldn't see me. "I don't remember what I said."
"You don't remember?" he repeated softly.
Why didn't I remember?
It wasn't like I didn't remember Blake and Avril, or any of the things they had done that I would've mentioned.
I remembered that they used to always let me pick the songs to play in the car, no matter how much they -mostly Blake- had hated my taste in music at the time.
I remembered how Blake used to spontaneously bring flowers home for Avril and how she used to massage his shoulders if it had been a stressful day at work for him.
I remembered how Blake had refused to let Avril give me the 'birds-and-bees' talk despite us starting the unit at school, claiming that I wouldn't be needing it, or putting it to use any time soon.
I even remembered how they had taken me to IKEA and let me pick out every piece of furniture or decor I wanted in my room when I had first gone to live with them, which was why my room had looked like a rainbow threw up in it for the next seven years.
So why couldn't I remember what I had said?
I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking back to their funeral. I remembered that it had been surprisingly nice that day. I remembered running my sweaty hands over my dress as I made my way to the front. I remembered staring into a somber crowd of strangers dressed in black as I spoke.
But I didn't remember what I said.
"The memories are more important than the five minute speech I made in front of a bunch of strangers." Blake and Avril had a life before I came to live with them, of course.
"What would Skylar want you to say?" I asked when he didn't respond.
"I don't know," he admitted. "She did a lot... I don't know if she'd be upset..."
He trailed off and I stayed silent though I had an idea what we were both thinking. Skylar had said she wasn't sure if she wanted to stay alive, as she was dying. I still didn't know meant, I hadn't asked Ashton. I was almost certain that I never would, though I wasn't sure if it was because for once, I didn't want to know, or if it was because I didn't want to risk the chance of hurting Ashton by asking.
"It's not fair," Ashton said suddenly, a harsh, bitter edge in his tone. "It shouldn't have been Skylar. She wasn't involved in any of this."
Skylar had always been the one who Vanessa had targeted to send a warning to Ashton, though she had never gotten involved herself, not like Jacen, or Keira or even Nathan. He was right there. "Bad things happen," I replied softly. "Even to people who don't deserve it."
"I should've been able to save her," he whispered, his voice cracking.
"It's not your fault," I told him.
"I started all of this."
I gripped my comforter tightly my hand that wasn't clutching the phone. "Don't, Ashton. Don't think about it like that. Don't go down this road."
Hypocrite.
I ignored the thought.
"Detective Fallon killed her. It's on him, not you," I continued.
"She's not supposed to be dead!" Ashton cried. "She can't be dead."
My heart broke.
"Everyone keeps saying it's going to be okay, but it's not. My best friend is dead!" His breath caught. "They keep watching, waiting for me to break down and cry."
"You're allowed to cry, Ashton," I said. "No one's going to thinking anything less of you if you do."
"It's not that," he replied quietly. "It hasn't sunk in yet- it's like if I don't cry, I'll wake up and it'll just be a dream."
Take care of him, Elena.
The promise I had made Skylar kept repeating in my head as I listened to Ashton Sinclair break down over the phone, wishing with all my heart that I could do something more than whisper the occasional reassurance.
I couldn't fall back asleep after that.
The thought of Ashton, Skylar, and even Avril and Blake kept haunting me. After a couple minutes of tossing and turning, I got up and decided to head downstairs. I wasn't sure if warm milk or anything would help, but maybe walking around, or doing something would be able to take my mind off the memories.
I didn't expect to find Raine reading in the living room.
"What are you doing up?" I asked her.
She raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing."
I hesitated, then decided to go for it. "Do you remember what I said at Avril and Blake's funeral?"
She slipped a bookmark in her book and set it down before turning to face me. "What brought this on, Elena?"
"Ashton called me," I admitted. "Asking for help for Skylar's eulogy."
Her eyes darted to the barely illuminated clock in the corner showing that it was past three in the morning, but she didn't comment. She sighed, frowning in concentration, then shook her head. "I don't."
I blinked. "What?"
"I don't remember what you said," she told me. "You mean for your eulogy, right?"
I nodded.
Raine shook her head again. "I'm sorry, Lena."
"I don't either," I said. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Funerals..." she trailed off and sighed. "They're a way for everyone to get to together and remember the one who passed away. But they're not what we ultimately remember them by."
"I feel like I don't miss them enough," I admitted softly. "Blake and Avril."
"Missing people doesn't work like that," she said. "It's not like something you can schedule in. Some days are better than others, and some days everything reminds you of them."
I knotted my fingers together, twisting them around each other in my lap. "But they just- they did so much for me, I feel like I should... Do something back."
"Blake and Avril loved you," Raine replied, pulling me into a hug. "And you know, just because you don't miss someone consciously, it doesn't mean they're not there. I can see them in you."
She pulled away and gripped me by the shoulders so I would see the sincerity in her eyes.
"And they would be so, so proud of you."
â¡ the trouble with love â¡
Exactly thirteen hours later, I found myself at the reception for Skylar's funeral.
I found an unoccupied bench outside the main room and took a seat on the worn wood. The amount of people here was staggering, though not all the surprising. It made it feel impersonal, even though most of the unfamiliar faces did know Skylar personally be some means.
A modeling shoot in Paris, a party in Soho, her skydiving instructor from Los Angeles where she took lessons every weekend in the summer, even a one night stand in Amsterdam that had struck an unlikely friendship.
Ashton was right- Skylar had done a lot in her life.
And by the amount of people in the room, milling about and discussing the memories they had shared, it showed.
I tilted my head back, closing my eyes, but I didn't get very long to rest before I felt someone sit down beside me. I opened my eyes and peeked over to see Jacen next to me.
He didn't look the best- his eyes were bloodshot, and the bags under them made it clear that he hadn't slept very well, or at all, in the past week. I didn't blame him though. Between this, Keira and Vanessa it had probably been a pretty hellish couple of days.
"Are you okay?" I asked, even though it was a pretty stupid question.
"Peachy," he replied flatly, his words slurring together a bit. "My sister's practically brain dead, my best friend's in a mental institution and I'm at a funeral."
I blinked when I saw him pull a small, silver flask from inside his jacket, and take a sip, but he shot me hard glare before I could comment. "Don't," he said. "I'm not wasted, and I don't want to deal with any more shit."
He might not be wasted, but he already did sound pretty drunk. I didn't say anything, though. If it got worse I would, but for now I'll try building up to it.
"How's your new school?" I asked instead.
Devon had suggested moving Jacen to a different school, since what had happened wasn't exactly secret and we would all be graduating this year, leaving him alone. He said that Jacen could probably use a fresh start, where there wouldn't be any memories of everything that happened.
We had all agreed that it was a pretty good idea, and Jacen hadn't protested, so his parents switched him into Sydcot High, Raine and Kaden's old high school and the next best in the area.
Jacen took another sip before answering. "You think I want to talk about fucking school?" he demanded. His words even more slurred now.
Damn, how strong was that stuff?
I swiped the flask from him, though it felt almost empty. "No more drinking, you don't need to get wasted at Skylar's funeral."
He gave me a sardonic grin. "But that's my goal, Elena." He stood up. "And really, you can't expect that to be the only one I have."
I didn't chase after him as he walked away. I turned the flask over and over in my hands. I had been around Jacen long enough to know that I wouldn't be able to stop him if he really did want to get wasted.
A shadow fell over me, and I looked up to see Ashton standing in front of me. "Let me guess," he said. "Jacen's?"
I nodded.
He sat down beside me, and took the flask, but kept one of his hands in mine, linking our fingers together.
"Is he okay?" he asked.
I managed a weak smile. "Ashton Sinclair, is that concern I detect in your voice?" I teased. "For Jacen?"
He scowled at me.
I laughed a little at his grudging acceptance that he did care, at least a bit, about Jacen, then sobered. "He'll be okay," I told him quietly, watching as a business man stopped Jacen down the hall and tried to engage him in a conversation.
Jacen blew him off.
"Maybe not for a while, but he'll make it through this," I continued.
I glanced at him when his hand gripped mine tighter.
"We'll all make it through this."
-- â¡ --
QotC: Who do you think the spin-off/sequel will be about? Vanessa, Nathan, Jacen or Keira?