The Academy

Chapter Twenty-Six

                   

Funerals are terribly depressing.

         People always say that funerals are a celebration of a person's life, but it doesn't feel that way. When everyone is wearing black, crying, and acting moody, it's hard to celebrate anything.

         As the organ in the front of the cathedral played old worship songs, everyone conversed around the room, telling stories of Ivy and consoling her upset parents.

         Last night, Ivy's parents flew into England. They requested to meet with the five of us in late hours of the night and asked us if we would each speak on Ivy's behalf.

         At first, I wanted to say no. I would be the first person to admit that I didn't know Ivy like everyone else did, but at the same time, I did know her. Really know her. I knew that how she died wasn't what everyone thought.

         I ended up saying yes and wrote my eulogy in ten minutes flat. Instead of planning out each word, I just scribbled anything that came to mind, hoping that it would end up being relevant and appropriate for a friend's funeral.

         Carlisle, Marisol, Lindsay, Aspen, and I sat in the second row, right behind Ivy's parents. Her mother wore a long black dress, a string of tiny pearls around her neck, and a hat with a black veil slightly covering her face. Her father wore what any other guy there was wearing: a suit.

         Beside me was Tatum. He gripped my hand tightly, shifting his gaze toward me every few minutes to make sure I was alright. When he heard about what happened to Ivy, he called me, worried that I was going to be extremely upset or distraught. I felt terrible that I wasn't either of those things, but I didn't want to seem heartless to Tatum. I told him that I was sad, but not awfully upset. He understood, making me promise that I would call him the second I wanted to talk to anyone, and assured me that he'd always be there and that he really cared for me. It felt great for someone to always have your back like that.

         "You'll do fine," he assured me as I glanced down at the piece of lined notebook paper that contained my messy handwriting. "Don't be nervous."

         "I'm not," I lied, folding the paper back up. Talking about Ivy in front of all her friends and family would be nerve-wracking and I prayed that I'd be able to do it without passing out.

         "First," the preacher said, pointing to our pew, "some words from Ivy Templeton's friends. We have Carlisle Kellams going first."

         Carlisle stood up, smoothed down her short black dress, and stepped onto the platform in the front. She placed her paper on the podium, breathed in, and breathed out to compose herself.

         "Talking about Ivy is pretty hard," Carlisle began with a shrug of her shoulders. "I loved the gal. Great person. Adorable as could be. Smart as a whip. But I know that that isn't what everyone wants to hear. Those are facts about Ivy. You guys want to hear what I actually thought about her.

         "I can honestly say I've never met anyone like Ivy. Contrary to popular belief, she never drank. At parties, she wanted to seem cool, so she'd always have water or Coke in a red plastic cup, acting like she was getting drunk off of it. I was always the only one who knew. I never told her that, but I deeply admired the fact that she never compromised her integrity and morals to get people to believe that she was a social drinker. She never had as much as a sip of alcohol.

         "She was probably the most trustworthy person I ever met." Carlisle's eyes flickered to me. "She was one of the two people who knew exactly how I felt about this guy I really liked earlier this school year. I would trust that girl with my life. She always knew right from wrong." Carlisle folded up the paper and held it between the thumb and index finger of her right hand. "Ivy was an overall good person, and no one could ever take that away."

         Next up was Aspen, who just told funny stories about Ivy. After Aspen was Lindsay, and she went with the emotional approach. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. It was the first time I cried since Ivy "killed herself".

         When Marisol stepped onto the platform, not carrying notes with her, I knew this would be even more emotional that Lindsay's. Nothing is more true that words right from the heart.

         "Ivy was my best friend," Marisol whispered in the microphone, looking down at the casket that held Ivy. "Not a doubt about it. Yeah, we'd get into fights sometimes, but what friends don't?" She drummed her fingers on the podium, searching for what exactly to say.

         "Like Carlisle said, talking about Ivy right now is hard. She was such a complex person. She had so many layers. I was one of the only people she ever shared those layers with. And us." She gestured to our pew. "We knew the real her. And we still loved her. Unconditionally."

         In the row across from us, Arlo rubbed his eyes. That boy absolutely adored Ivy.

         "She was who I went to to get advice. Yeah, sometimes it was terrible or led to more problems, but I trusted her. Just like everyone did. But I want to say that just because Ivy isn't alive on Earth anymore, doesn't mean that she isn't alive with me. She knows what I've gone through." Her voice caught in her throat and she swallowed loudly. "Going through. I know she will still give me advice. I can still hear her voice in my head, calling me names and then saying, 'Just kidding! I love you so much, Mare.' No one could replace her, and I will never forget her. She'll be with me every day."

         After Marisol said the last word, she burst into tears, needing to be guided off the platform by the preacher. My turn.

         Tatum squeezed my hand one last time for good luck and I unfolded my notes, ready to deliver my eulogy.

         "I met Ivy at a party," I said, scanning the crowd's faces. Her mother held a mascara-stained tissue in between her hands. Directly behind her, Tatum watched me expectantly. The day I met Ivy was the day that my life improved. The day I met Tatum. The day I met everyone, actually. I was so glad that Ivy was apart of it.

         "It was my first day in Boston. I transferred her from Alabama, so I didn't really know anyone. The first time I met her, she hugged me and made me feel welcome, which was something that no one could ever put a price on. She just had this warm presence about her, as if you just knew she was a good person by the looks of her. She helped me feel like I actually belonged, which I can honestly say is something that I've never felt before then."

         Short, sweet, and to the point. I stepped off the platform and made my way back to my seat, where Tatum was waiting for me with a smile and Marisol had her arms outstretched for a hug. She held me tightly, whispered, "You belong with us, Kayleigh," in my ear, and loosened her grip, allowing Tatum to plant a kiss on my cheek.

            "Marisol'sright," Tatum said to me, tracing a circle in the palm of my right hand. "Youbelong with us. Just like Ivy did."