One More Time (With Feeling)

10/End

Only a handful of people attend the funeral. You have a feeling you and your friends were only invited because you were in Chayton's address book, because in all the time you'd been together, he'd never introduced you to his parents. Maybe he never mentioned you at all, even as a friend, even at the end. What do you say? Do you say anything? He was your boyfriend. You loved him. You still love him, present tense. You will forever.

The only even slightly respectable thing you own is a black polo and a pair of black slacks. You don't even have a matching jacket. You can't afford to go out and buy anything new, but you don't think Chayton would want you to, anyway. He never placed much value on those things, did he? Anything you might spend on new clothes just for the funeral he'd rather you donate somewhere.

His parents are nice enough, if a little cold. His dad's mouth is set in a hard, thin line and his eyes are red and watery. His mother spends the entire time sobbing into his shoulder. They have no idea who you are. It's just you, a few aunts and uncles and a cousin, and Kyle and the others. Chayton really did keep to himself, didn't he?

Chayton's parents get his ashes. You have no right to protest. You ask them if you can go along with them when they scatter them in the forest. It's illegal, but nobody actually cares as long as you don't get caught.

"How did he know you?" His mom asks.

Your words catch in your throat and your hand curls loosely under your chin.

"He was my best friend," you say, and even though it's not the whole truth, it's also nowhere near a lie. "He was... he was one of the most important people in the world to me."

"What did you say your name was?"

You open your eyes. "March."

She doesn't hold out her hand. Instead, she draws you into a tight hug. She's barely half an inch shorter than you.

"Thank you for taking care of him for us," she whispers. "He never mentioned any names, but as it got closer to the end and he finally told us, he said his friends had been taking good care of him. If you were his best friend, I assume that includes you."

Finally, you wrap your arms back around her shoulders, and for the first time all day, you can finally cry, even though it's silent, even though it's bare.

"Yeah," you whisper. "It does."

+++

fterward you go out to Chayton's favorite coffee shop, the one underneath the train stop with all the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling. You get coffee and sandwiches and Kyle makes you get one, too, even though you say you're not hungry, because you haven't eaten much since Chayton died.

For hours, you share stories. You talk in detail about your first night out with him. Lola talks about how she met him, at the copier store making flyers for an art show where he was, too, buying plastic sheeting for cheap throwaway stencils. Cricket talks about the disaster zir hair ended up the first time Chayton tried to help dye it.

"I feel kind of shitty hanging out and laughing like this," you finally say, even though each laugh also comes with tears and there's a lot of crying, too. Kyle wraps his arm around your shoulder and jostles you a little.

"He wouldn't want us to mourn any more than we have to," he says, even though his voice catches. "I'd bet you everything I own he's already tagging up heaven as we speak."

"I'll bet God loves it," Lola sniffles. She wipes at her face with a napkin and holds it to her nose for a moment. "Get some color on all that white and silver up there."

"There's probably a breakdancing robot on the pearly gates already," Cricket says.

+++

Even though Oak Park is out of the way and in the wrong direction, you stop there just as the sun starts to set, at the corner where the old bookstore used to be. There are still cars everywhere, but it's so cold right now, most everyone is indoors. Nobody is out wandering around behind the buildings.

You adjust the straps of Chayton's backpack over your shoulder.

"Anyone coming with me?"

Cricket, Kyle, and Lola all let you lead the way. You take them down the street and around the corner to what remains of Chayton's posters on the wall behind the Whole Foods. When you paste, your hands move smooth and sure, never as confident as Chayton's were, but with the practiced ease that only comes with doing something hundreds of times over.

You slash a few diagonal lines through the poster in either direction, like Chayton did that first night, then slap on one of his last stickers, paste over it, and cut an 'x' through it. You take a step back. Lola wraps her arm around your shoulder. Then Kyle wraps his around your other one, pulling in Cricket on the other side.

"It looks just like his did," Lola whispers. There were two of these alien posters left. This blue one and a pink one you pinned up in your bedroom. That one is yours. She kisses the top of your head and you all drop your arms. You salute the poster and gather up all the materials, quick and quiet, like Chayton taught you.

You linger behind for a few extra moments, looking at the new, clean, bright white poster in comparison to the yellowed and browned tatters left around the wall from the old ones you put up all those years ago. It's amazing anything is left of them.

"I love you," you whisper. Your friends are at the corner now, waiting for you by the end of the building, giving you space. A car drives by and you duck your head down to obscure your face.

"Goodbye," you say. You kiss your fingers and press them to the still damp poster, then turn to follow your friends back into the city.

The End