Letters under the Door

Chapter 19: The First Date

My hair was done in a simple side braid and after much consideration, I was wearing my glasses. The simple blue dress I was wearing came down to just above my knee and I was wearing a pair of faded white vans. My denim bag was slung over my shoulder and in it was a pair of head phones, my phone, my wallet, and a book, not to mention the mandatory date survival kit. lip gloss, mascara, deodorant, breath mints and emergency hygiene products, just in case.

I was meant to be there by nine o'clock.

It was six-thirty.

It wasn't by accident though. I was up for a reason. There was someone I needed to see.

I left a note for mum telling her where I had gone and that I would call her when I was on my way home. I didn't plan on coming back between where I was going now and my date.

I walked to the bus stop, eating my breakfast toast as I went, fully intending to stop for a latte as soon as I was done. I would probably need it. I mean, my date with Logan was still over two hours away and I already had jitters. I needed some caffeine, asap.

But not yet. It seemed mean to drink coffee in front of Harry when he couldn't have some. But to be fair, he might've been drinking coffee literally from heaven as I spoke to him, which I could imagine would be far better than whatever I had; but even still, I put my addiction on hold.

And yes. You heard right. At, nearly seven in the morning, as I opened the gate to the cemetery, I was seeing my dead best friend on the day of my first date.

It just felt like the thing to do.

This was my first time going to Harry's grave on my own, but I wasn't scared for some reason. Maybe it was the fact I had already done it, or maybe it was because I had changed. I wasn't that scared insecure little girl anymore. Whatever it was didn't matter, what mattered was that here I was on my own.

Or at least, I thought I was on my own.

There was a man standing over Harry's grave as I approached. He wasn't talking from what I could see, but he seemed to have blocked out the rest of the world. I couldn't see his face from where I was, but I could tell he was an older man, about my dad's age. I stood a respectful distance and waited for him to finish up. I had time after all.

But as the man turned away from the grave and towards me, I felt my heart skip a beat.

It was Harry's dad.

"Mr Parker?" I asked in disbelief.

He had gone grey over the last two years, but his eyes weren't as blood shot as they used to be. In fact, he was clean shaven.

He looked at me for a second, a clueless expression crossing his face before I saw something click behind his eyes.

"April? April Vice?"

I nodded, but couldn't quiet muster the strength to smile at this man. The last time I had seen him was Harry's funeral. He had stood in the corner, alone, ignoring all the condolences sent his way. To be fair, I did too, but that was beside he point.

"You've grown a fair bit since I last saw you. What are you doing here?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

"I'm here to see Harry."

It came out sharper than I had intended, and I felt the guilt start to trickle down my spine as I saw Mr. Parker flinch slightly. Then he caught me by surprise.

"I can understand if you hate me," he said. "I completely deserve it."

But it wasn't the statement that surprised me, it was the lack of, well, hatred. The man standing in front of me was even more at fault for Harry's death than I was. If he hadn't gotten drunk, Harry wouldn't have left, he wouldn't have died. Yet, I couldn't be mad.