Pulse

Chapter 13

Lucie

I preferred Dempsey's truck over the Subaru for a seemingly infinite amount of reasons. One was that the old Subaru's radio was staticky, likely due to the less-than-perfect antenna that we hadn't fixed in a decade. Another was the air conditioning, which was not reliable at all. It only worked on two modes: freezing cold or burning hot. Perhaps the most valid reason, however, was that it was clunky and awkward and loud, and often smelled like Chinese takeout.

Dempsey's truck had smelled like his subtle—and "super manly," as he'd called it—cologne, and like the pine air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. The truck's radio was perfect, which meant good things when I had control of it and bad things when Dempsey did. The air conditioning also did its job with no problem, which was always a pro.

Dempsey's truck was also crushed to smithereens at the moment.

I missed it almost as much I missed him. The two went together. When I saw Dempsey, I saw him in the driver's seat, rolling down the window and patting the red door with a heavy hand. The metal thudded in response. Let's go home, Lulu, he'd say.

Jiya was meeting me at Dempsey and Caden's vigil. It was the last place I wanted to go, to be honest, but so was home, so I thought this the lesser of the two evils. I mean, my parents were acting super weird around me, not bringing up Dempsey or the accident. They were trying to act like everything was okay, which I didn't get. What was the point in lying to themselves? Reality was reality, no matter how hard one fought to warp its image.

Cian and Vinny also knew where I lived, and they were not on my "I Really Want to Talk to You" list. The problem with that was they had a rather vexing habit of showing up out of literal nowhere, especially Vinny. I knew, though I dreaded it, that I would end up speaking with the brothers, or at least one of them, in the next few days, as they didn't seem to know how to leave me alone. I was trying to postpone that date as much as possible.

Jiya seemed to be the only person I wanted to see at the moment. A part of me felt bad that I was keeping secrets from her. She should know, maybe, about Cian and Vinny, about what—rather, who—they were looking for. But would she just get in the way?

As I turned to park my car at the gathering, I let out a breath. There was a crowd of people here, many more than I'd expected would show up. Little candles shone along the fence like earthbound stars, dancing and flickering in the dark. Pictures of Dempsey and Caden lined the fence; an array of roses jutted through the wires. I got out of the Subaru, and Jiya, who had been watching me park across the street, approached me. She embraced me in a careful hug to avoid setting me on fire (thankfully), then handed me a candle and lit it with her own. She said, "Hey. How you feeling?"

I shrugged, watching the gathered people around me. This many people actually care...about my brother? About Caden? "Honestly? I'm surprised. I didn't think..."

I exhaled into the cool night air, which was laced with notes of smoke and salt. People moved silently around me, ducking their heads and murmuring prayers, setting roses down, lining the fences with little sticky notes of messily drawn hearts and crosses. I tried to take it all in. Something about the vigil made me feel better, somehow. Dempsey hadn't gotten a funeral, as his body was still somewhere unknown, but he got this. He got a community gathered for him, a community mourning for him, a community praying for his suffering family.

My heart thudded inside of my chest as Jiya sighed and took my hand in hers. She noticed my pulse pounding, and glanced at me. "It's okay, Lucie," she said. "It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I wasn't thinking about Dempsey then, though. Vinny had popped into my head; I saw his blond head leaning over Dempsey's cross, shoulders bent towards the ground, his voice cracking as he spoke. I don't want to be just another young tragedy, he'd said. I want people to want to remember me, to build memorials and cry and feel something for me.