Fireworks

1

213 days.

That's how long Colton's been gone.

I stare at the book in front of me, frowning. There's no way I can focus today. Especially not on Art Humanities.

I sigh, flopping back on my bed. There's a photo of Colton and me on my nightstand. He had his arm slung around me good-naturedly, and we were laughing about something that was probably really dumb. I don't remember what. It was at the National Honors Society induction ceremony from last year, my Junior year.

This summer, Colton and I were supposed to go to Europe together for his senior trip. We were going to stay a couple of weeks, InterRail through a few countries before spending five days at my parent's vacation home in France. Instead, I'm sitting in my room reading up on Art Humanities alone, staring at a picture of us when I can't focus.

It's been a full seven months now since my older brother passed away. He was shot in a drive-by. The bullet wasn't meant for him.

He was a year older than me, and would be going into his freshman year of college at Cornell University. The school had sent a letter with their regards and well wishes after finding out about his passing. I thought that was nice, though I do know that they just gave his slot to someone on the waiting list, which irked me to no end. It was supposed to be his spot, he worked so hard to get in.

But he died, so I guess he really didn't need it anymore.

"Hadlee, dinner." my mom calls from downstairs.

I crawl off my bed to go set the table with one last glance thrown at the photograph.

My house is nice, a large and modern Arizona home in the East Valley, between Phoenix and Tucson. Lots of Cacti. Lots of dirt. I wasn't much of a fan of the heat, I always wanted to go North-East somewhere, maybe New York. That's where Colton was headed, anyway.

"Can you set the table?" my mom asks, pulling some type of lasagna out of the oven.

I nod mindlessly and set the table for three, though I know my Dad won't be making it home from work in time. He never does.

"Smells good, mom." I compliment as she carries the pan over to the table.

"Thanks. Can you grab me a sweet tea?" she says blandly, setting the lasagna down on one of those nonslip heat resistance pads.

I get water for myself after grabbing her tea, and soon we're sitting across from each other at the table, silently eating lasagna. My mom's on her phone, probably checking emails or something, and I just eat as quickly as possible so I can be excused.

I doubt she knows that today marks 7 months.

She and my dad do a wonderful job of avoiding talking about Colton's death. Sometimes my mom talks like he's still here. My dad drowns himself in work. I've caught him quite a few times coming home drunk, but I never said anything to Mom. I don't really care if she knows or not.

"How's the studying coming along?" she asks, glancing over at me after an extended period of silence.

"Fine," I shrug, pushing a clump of ricotta around my plate.

"How much progress have you made?" she asks, looking back down at her phone.

"I have four units of math review left."

She hums in a noncommittal response, and we're both pretty much done eating so I grab out plates and bring them to the sink. She disappears after a brief, "Thanks for cleaning up."

I wash the dishes and save the leftover lasagna in Tupperware, though I do leave out a plate for my dad in the fridge covered in saran wrap.

As I enter my room, my phone buzzes from its place charging on my desk.

That comes as a surprise, considering I really don't keep much correspondance. I stopped hanging out with most of my friends when Colton died. He was super popular, basically everyone at our high school adored him. I had lots of friends too, but was widely known as 'Colton's little sister'. He was on the soccer team and had been student body president. Everyone loved him... which made it so much harder to see people once he died. 

I unlock my phone and squint at the notification, reading it a few times over to make sure I'm not imagining it.

Isa Gonzalez: Hey girl, feel like hanging sometime soon?

Huh. Isa and I had been friends freshman year, we'd had quite a few classes together, but we really hadn't talked too much since then. We never got in a fight or anything, we just drifted apart. She was cool, though I'm not sure why she's texting me right now.

I take a few minutes before typing back;

Sure. Just let me know when and where 

That was normal enough, right? I mean, it isn't normal that we're talking like we're friends, but it was an average response, I'm assuming. I've never really been in this position before. I don't really hang out outside of school functions anymore, especially not with old friends. The ones who knew Colton.

But perhaps the mundaneness of my schedule and silence of my home for the past couple weeks of summer is driving me to places I never thought I'd revisit.

Isa Gonzalez: Sweet, how about tomorrow. We could get milkshakes at Vinnies?

I smile a little. I'm still confused beyond belief why she suddenly wants to hang out, but this doesn't sound too bad.

Sounds good, meet around 1:00?

Isa Gonzalez: See you then!