For Rylie

Epilogue

A/N: So here it is, the epilogue. I started writing this when I was at chapter 20, I think, so I have been thinking of ways to finish it for a while. I really hope you enjoy this as it is from Max’s point of view. It should be interesting. Thanks to all of you who are such awesome readers, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of you reading and voting and all of that. You guys rock!!! So, with the fact that I love you kept in mind, please don’t kill me.

Enjoy

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      - Max Harris’ POV -

I hated dressing up in black. I couldn’t stand the reason why.

Hayley helped me with my tie, wearing a simple, black dress herself. Hazel was wearing something of the same and Dustin was dressed just like me.

Mum had gone down there early to help her Dad with all the guests, help him stay together.

The four of us silently made our way down to the cemetery.

I had never been to a funeral before, but knowing I had to speak in front of so many people about her, I needed Mum to help me hold everything together.

What made me feel worse was that I was bringing a girl to her funeral. I wasn’t going to, I knew I shouldn’t have, but I needed her there to help me stay in one piece while I talked.

Just her confident, believing, warm gaze on me would help me get through the morning.

Dustin pulled into the cemetery and parked at the edge of the lot, his hands trembling slightly on the steering wheel.

“Ready?” He asked, opening his door.

Hazel squeezed my hand for support and I gave her an appreciative look, even though I couldn’t muster up the smile I wanted to show her.

I wasn’t the only one that would struggle to get through the morning.  

We walked slowly over to where the crowd was gathering, my arm around Hazel as we went.

Hazel came to a stop, causing me to do the same, at the side of the crowd that was gathering around her coffin.

I choked back the tears and Hazel looked like she was doing the same. After all, Hazel was close with her.

My watch said it was two minutes until it started and I could feel the weight of the speech in the pocket of my jacket.

“Hi,” someone greeted me from behind.

I turned and saw her.

She was respectfully wearing a black, long-sleeved dress that flowed to her mid-thigh with tights underneath. Her black heels made her taller than she usually was, making her closer to my height than I was used to.

The only bit of colour she was wearing hung around her neck.

“Hey,” I said, wrapping my arms around her.

I already felt less nervous as she rested her head on my shoulder. The warmth that radiated from her was comforting and I felt better about speaking in front of so many people.

“You’ll be okay, but I’ll be right here if you’re not,” she told me, attempting to smile. It didn’t work.

After all, she had known her as well.

That’s when everything started. The first few speeches went by in a blur as everyone gathered around the coffin, covered with her favourite flowers.

I really wasn’t sure I could handle this.

When it was my turn to read my speech – the last speech, I might add – I was shaking. Hazel gave me a reassuring squeeze of my hand before I left and walked to the front.