The funeral was horrible; it was horrible to hear the voices of all the broken hearts Gus left. Hazel kept an emotionless tone as she was greeted by his family. She left her parents and his parents to talk, walking towards my direction.
"This sucks,"
"Tell me about it," she withdrew a breath. "No, don't tell me about it,"
"He would think so, too," she said. "Well, the program's about to start. Sit with me?"
"Of course," she led me to the front row so I won't bump into some people up front. I didn't bother listening to any of their eulogies, and they needn't care, because they can't tell whether I'm listening or not.
Hazel came up fourth, after his parents and two sisters.
I didn't bother listening to hers, either. I'd just get this over with. Once Hazel stepped down from the stage, she didn't talk to me. Perhaps she was crying, or staring at me, or just plain ignoring me. I don't like any of the three.
"You did good," I muttered.
"Nice try," she replied just as quietly. Once I was called, I didn't go up, I just stood up front. I just recited the thing, but I could hear chokes and sobs when I reminisce. The dude must be laughing at me from up there.
I had to stay, because my parents expected me to be there for his parents; at least Hazel was there, she would go up to me from time to time, sometimes I could hear her at the coffin, sometimes talking to friends. I could smell the aroma of fresh coffee beans as Hazel's heels clicked, walking to me. I've memorized it.
"I know you don't drink coffee, so... water?" I felt something wet and cold touch the back of my hand. I took it, but I didn't bother smiling. "You hate this as much as I do,"
"I know that," I say, offering her a seat beside me at the back of the room.
"You didn't show a shred of emotion today," she said.
"It's so painful it's numb. Screw crying,"
"Okay,"
