Chapter Six {Part 1}

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"Can you not sit on me, please?" Josiah shoves me into Dylan's side, my elbows digging into Dylan's ribs.

"Ow!" Dylan slaps my head. "Watch it, Baby."

"It's not my fault Josiah pushed me," I answer, rubbing my head and scooting away. Jackson called us for a family meeting, but so far there's been nothing but arguments on where to sit.

"That's because you were sitting on me like you're doing again," Josiah complains. "You know, I don't think there's room for five people here." Before I can protest, he sweeps me off the couch and onto the floor.

"Much better," Dylan says, smirking at me.

"Alright, quiet down," Jackson commands as he takes his seat. I'm not even sure he noticed me. "Hamilton family meeting coming to order."

"It's not a courtroom," Luke says, rolling his eyes.

"But it's my house." Jackson silences him with a Look. "So--"

"Do you want us to leave?" Ryder interrupts, wearing a guilty expression. "Sorry, I just. . . we're not family."

"This includes you, actually," Jackson says. "We need a game plan for this week." He pulls off his baseball hat and plays with the brim. "There's some things we have to do before we're ready for the funeral, and we've got people coming throughout the week as well."

A collective silence falls over us. But it's not an empty silence. Empty is where you don't know what to say. Full silence, like this--that's where you have so much you want to say but you can't. Maybe because you're so happy you just don't want to spoil the moment. Or maybe because you know that anything you say will only make the pain worse.

"The Jax's are dropping off dinner tonight, and Uncle Tuck and Aunt Charlotte will be stopping on their way to the hotel," Jackson continues.

At the mention of his parents, Shawn lifts his head.

"Shawn, you can stay with them if you'd like," Jackson adds. . "Alright then. Tomorrow, we've got a few more relatives coming over. They won't be long visits and no, you don't need to talk to them. Just be respectful and don't hide in your rooms." I swear he's looking at me and Shawn when he says that last part.

"What else?" Donavan asks, checking his watch.

Jackson scratches his chin, thinking. I have no idea when he last shaved, but it's clearly been a few weeks. "The visitation is at six-thirty, but I want us to be there at six o'clock, so we can be ready."

"Thursday, right?" Josiah checks.

"Yeah. Friday's pretty much the same thing, except it's at nine--that's AM--so we'll leave around seven forty-five. Does that sound okay?"

Mumbled agreements circle around the group. "What time are we going to get home?" I ask.

"One thirty, I think?" Jackson replies, tilting his head. "Something like that."

"One thirty?" I repeat, making a face.

Luke throws me a warning look. "Don't complain."

"I'm not complaining," I say, annoyed. "I'm just commenting."

"Well don't." He shakes his head and mutters something, looking down at his phone.

"You can't tell me what to do." I scowl.

"Baby, just shut up," Dylan says, rolling his eyes.

I turn my scowl to him. "You first."

"I'm older than you, idiot," Luke reminds me. "So yes, I can tell you what to do."

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