History Doesn't Repeat Itself

Chapter 18

GALE

"Do we really have to do this?" Cyder whines as we pull up to Lincoln Boulevard. "I mean, couldn't we just put a flower down or something?"

I let go of the steering wheel and I side-eye her. "If you bail on me, I'll hate you," I say. "I'll hate you forever."

I wasn't serious. But I wanted to be. I hate it when she changes her mind at the last minute of things. Not just her. People who cancel plans last minute without a valid reason are assholes.

"It's not too crowded, thankfully," I say, climbing out of the car.

"It feels crowded. A parade of ghosts coming out of each tombstone."

"Morbid jokes aren't my type, but I guess what you said is partially true."

We spend a few seconds looking around.

"I don't want to do this." Cyder says.

"I'll hate you."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I don't want to be here." I see her shudder. "Cemeteries give me the creeps."

I let my face relax and I smile. "Thanks for being here, C."

We walk in the direction of Lar's grave.

The first time I walked in here was with Christy. But I don't think she remembers that. I don't think she remembers me and the buckets of tears I had cried that day.

We finally arrive at his grave, and times like these make me wonder about my parents' decision of giving me the same nickname as Lars.

Lars Levi.

Lev.

The same Lev that Christy first dated. The same Lev that had borrowed my notebook and never gave it back. The same Lev whose pen was still in the mug I keep beside my office.

"This is it," I say.

"Yep." She pauses, waiting for me to say something else aside from "This is it"

"Talk to him," I say, gesturing to the grave.

"You talk first."

"I can't. Talking to pictures is weird."

"That's not what I meant." She says. "You know I don't care about what's weird and what's not. He chewed pens for fun. You studied for fun. Both of you are weird."

"You draw for fun," I say, trying to deflect her comment with the flimsiest comeback I could come up with.

"Which is a skill that takes years of practice. It's not weird. Having the ability to draw anything I want is awesome which is the opposite of weird, FYI."

I open my mouth, but I close it back again. Lars wouldn't want us to argue in front of his grave.

"Fine." She faces the grave and says: "Happy birthday, Lars Levi." before facing me again. "Is that greet-y enough for you?"

"Please be serious, Cyder," I say, crouching down. "He's our brother. Atleast show him some respect."

I couldn't see her face right now. But I know that she rolled her eyes at me.

I turn my head. "What? Lev is our brother, isn't he?"

"I thought we agreed on calling him Lars? Did you forget the little blood oath we did?" Cyder hisses.

"Kool-aid oath." I say, correcting her.

She chuckles. "Yes. The kool-aid oath."

The time Lars died, we couldn't accept it. The name "Lev" sounded foreign to us. So we made a promise to never call him Lev, but to call him Lars instead. We shook on it with Kool-aid in our arms and Christy couldn't stop laughing when she saw that my plain white shirt had a big red handmark on it because Cyder decided to be "funny" and slap my back afterward.