Sisters [book one]

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

I never went to Jessica's funeral.

I'd wanted to go but told Mom me it wasn't in my place to attend. She told me I would cause a ruckus and it wasn't worth the risk. I hadn't wanted to go to say goodbye, to read out a eulogy, to stare at everyone's guilt-stricken, solemn expressions. I'd wanted to go to say sorry one last time because no-one deserves to die like that.

The weight of a thousand memories rests on my shoulders. Zac and his family pick me up and we attend Daniel Balinski's funeral.

Within a minute of arriving, I decide I hate funerals.

I've passed this church hundreds of times, be it going grocery shopping, walking to school, going to Zac's house. Every once and a while, I'd see people walking out in white, bright clothing: a wedding. Other times, I see people with their heads bowed, dressed in black: a funeral.

A hundred or so chairs are lined up in the small church, all of them facing a mahogany coffin. Zac helps his dad up the steps to one of the chairs. Katherine lifts her head, revealing a pale complexion underneath a foot-long hat.

"Thank you for coming, Haley," she says.

"It's okay," I say. Zac sits down and says something to his dad I don't hear.

"He's lucky to have you in his life right now," Katherine says, "Stability."

I remember Zac telling me that it will only be a few years before his dad will lose his hearing as well. Scrubbing the floors at All Things Sweet, I remember admitting that Michele had amnesia. We both have unrest in our lives and we lean on each other to remind ourselves that we're not the only ones who's world is spinning.

"Yeah," I say.

Zac stands up and walks over. He takes my hand.

I don't ask him if he's okay. I kiss his cheek and say, "I'll be your glue."

Zac smiles and he closes his eyes. "Thank you, Haley."

"Do you want to go to the coffin?" I say, and Zac nods.

"Come with me," he says.

I nod and we walk up the centre aisle. My breath catches in my throat. I shouldn't be doing this. I only met Daniel once; Zac's known him his whole life.

I let go of Zac's hand just before we reach the coffin. I agreed to accompanying Zac to the funeral but I won't intrude in on his goodbye. I can't.

Behind him, I watch as Zac stares at Daniel's pale, lifeless body. His hands clutch the wood of the coffin, like he needs it to keep himself up. A tear slides down his cheek and I cover my mouth to stop a sob escaping my lips.

Zac mumbles something I don't hear - perhaps a farewell, a comment under his breath, a promise - and walks over to Daniel's parents who are waiting for him. They exchange hugs and quiet words. My gaze doesn't leave the coffin. I have to compose my own goodbye, a selection of words carefully phrased from the few memories we share. How can I? I have no idea what to say.

Daniel wears a black suit. His tousled black hair isn't matted beneath the material of a cap. "Daniel," I say, my voice low enough so no-one else can hear. "I only met you once." His clear skin, not a glimpse of ageing, shines with the plush white insides of the coffin. Too young. Far too young.

"I won't pretend to have known you when I didn't. But you were good at bowling and you were witty even though you didn't speak much." I swallow. "You were Zac's best friend, and I'm sorry I only got to witness it once."