Fireworks

55

The day of the trial arrives quickly after I've committed to attending. It's like this looming tsunami just waiting to wash over me, growing closer day by day, readying itself to wipe out all the progress and healing I'd done and send me back to that dismal state of grief I'd been in before this summer.

During the time I'm not worrying about the trial, I'm worrying about Arlo. Is he working too hard? Is he as torn up about the way we left things as I am?

It's an endless cycle of misery.

I'm not sure what's appropriate to wear to go see your brother's killers, but I decide on a simple black dress that I wore to my scholarship interview, and put some effort into my makeup, doing more than my normal chapstick and mascara combo.

My dad and I drive to the courthouse in silence, and we don't say anything when we're brought into the unnecessarily intimidating courtroom. My hands and legs are shaky, my pits and neck are sweaty, and almost every single fiber of me longs for Arlo to be by my side.

My blood is rushing so fast and my ears are ringing so loud that I don't hear anything until they bring the defendants in. They're in jumpsuits. They're not huge and buff or covered in tattoos. They're white, pale. They seem like normal guys I could pass on the street and never think of again.

They plead guilty. One of the guys makes eye contact with me and holds it for far too long to be comfortable, and my dad puts an arm around my shoulders protectively. I huddle to his side, grateful for the contact, and look away from the murderer.

I don't get any answers to the questions I had, and I decide that it's okay. Nothing said today could bring Colton back from the dead. I did get a sense of closure seeing them being escorted out of the room in cuffs, knowing they'd never be able to kill an innocent again.

I'm glad I went, even though it was difficult.

People come and talk to dad, and I silently wait to the side for him to be done so I can go home and lay in bed for a while. It's raining again today, fittingly, and I didn't want to do anything other than curl up in a ball in cry.

I stupidly scan the room for Arlo, but don't see him anywhere. Stupid. Stupid, stuipd, stupid. Of course he isn't here. You abandoned him.

There's nothing to say, so my dad and I don't talk for the rest of the day. He does stop to get some burritos on our way home, and we eat in silence too. My wish to cry in bed is granted, and that helps me feel a little better.

The next day, Harriet texts the group to say that the weather was supposed to be accommodating and that we could all get together at the tent to start tearing things down.

When I pick Isa up at her house, she squeals and says, "You'll never guess what Edwardo got me!" She sprints to the passenger side of the car and digs around in her purse and to find whatever it is that Edwardo got her.

I calmly start the car while she makes undecipherable excited noises, and finally fishes a ring box out of her bag.

My heart stops and then starts again at double time. I gape. "That isn't- you're not-"

She bursts out laughing and says, "You idiota, it's a promise ring. Look how pretty it is!"

It is pretty, and it's fit for a girl like Isa. It's big, shiny, expensive, and ornate in a way that I know she'd cherish for a good and long time. She sighs dreamily and slips it on her finger. "I'm not wearing it because I'm terrified to lose it, but I'm obsessed. He was so sweet when he gave it to me. You should have heard everything he was saying-"

Isa talks about the promise ring all the way to the tent, and I can't help but feel slightly jealous. Not of the ring, but of the fact that she and Edwardo were so consistent and caring towards one another. Look what I'd done to my relationship. I didn't even last a month.

When we get to the tent, the only other person here is Monse, and she's sitting cross-legged on the hood of her car eating pork rinds. When she sees us pull up she hops down, grinning. "Finally, I thought I would be the only one to show."

"Duh, of course we're here. Where are the guys?" Isa wonders, looking around the empty lot. "Should have known that they'd show up late."

We shrug and I say, "Well, there's no reason we can't start without them, right?"

They nod in agreement, and we being with the preparatory jobs. Picking up any and all little trash scraps that would get in the way, dragging the ladders and tools out from behind the camper, and figuring out the order that we'd need to take the tent down in.

Harriet had mentioned not starting on taking the chicken wire fencing down from around the outside poles until we had a full team of experienced kids to help, but Monse and Isa say it isn't as serious as she made it out to be, and walk over to start cutting the zip ties that hold it in place.

If Monse and Isa were starting it, I sure wasn't going to sit back and watch. Especially not since Monse keeps hissing at the barbed edges when the fence falls into her every few moments.

When all the ties are cut, we start dragging the fence towards Monse so she can roll it into a tight ball. After this side was done, the others would go fast.

I'm quick to find a spot to assist them, grabbing the safe parts of the chicken wire to keep it up and away from Monse's eyes. She huffs a 'thanks' and sets off down towards the corner where she'd be able to roll the fence inward and drag it from the front.

The guys make their presence known with the deep bass that rattles from the car and obnoxiously loud laughter that streams through the afternoon air above the sounds of crickets and birds and wind. The sound of car doors slamming made it clear they were on their way inside, towards us.

All of the sudden, Monse begins tugging at the fence, and it drags forwards a few inches.

"Hold up!" Isa shouts, still cutting the last zip tie at the last pole.

Isa gives the go-ahead, and I stay planted in the middle, helping drag along the fence.

I can now see why this job is so hated.

Stray wire pokes out from the haphazardly arranged fence from all angles and heights, catching on my clothes and cutting my fingers as it's dragged past.

"Woah, you guys weren't supposed to start fences without us," Diego calls, jogging towards us. The rest of the guys follow to help, laughing about whatever they were talking about in the car. 

And then I see him.