In the Grand Scheme of Things

HOLLAND

What Is the Proper
time-span to grieve? A month? A year? People are all different, and this book, Ways to Cope with Grief, only covers about 2% of the population's struggle.
I close the cover.

A hand pulls back a chair and I release a breathe.
Long time, no see Holly.
Her voice is mellow, and eyes are never-focused. With China, you can never tell whether she's being a bitch, a sweetheart, or both. But she's beautiful. Truly.

China's kinda got that punk feeling to her, cotton-candy, half-shaven head, more black and leather than a biker-gang, and caramel colored skin that really glows.
People don't normally prefer the edgy look, the look of the unpredictable. They like short, easy, direct answers that give them direct results.
And honestly?
That doesn't sound half bad. A set outcome from a set decision. Perfect. Clean. No mess. She's the exception
I guess. Nothing is the same the next time you see her. She's not stupid, or reckless.
She's brave.
She's my near-perfect idea of Heaven.

But she can be a real Hell. And I always open my pretty-pink mouth to tell her.
"That's all? No explanation?
No, 'Hey! Sorry, I've disappeared for two entire weeks!'? Don't you know how much I care?"
I almost can't hear myself over the chatter of the lunchroom, and I silence my words before it seems like I care a little too much.

China takes her chair and sits on it backwards. The prime example of rebellion. I roll my eyes,
"Stop trying so hard, Miss Punk."
She doesn't react, and picks at the vegetable medley on my plastic red lunch tray. A carrot snaps between two rows of pearl-white.

Sounds like you really missed me, Princess. And I guess your dying to know why your bestie was out of the box for a couple weeks.
She picks at a piece of broccoli.

Ya know, I've listened to my aunt talk about how hard it is to explain the situation to nosey-assholes that couldn't give two shits. And it's kinda like a comedy show, watching Aunt Lucile weep and cave into people's open arms. All in the end it's a nosy-asshole a whole bank account lighter and an Aunt with a drinking problem. Not that your nosy or an asshole. But everyone kinda falls into that category eventually, don't they?
China looks up at me, and flicks the broccoli at my nose. Her sorrow expression counter-acts my annoyance.

But, it's not really that hard.
Holland, my Mother died.
And I've had to be bounced around to shrink-after-shrink for the past 14 days. Suicide. Holly, she took her life away from us, that selfish bitch. And, I'm so angry.

Oh Christ.

Anyone would expect her to cry, I mean, I almost did, China's Mother was a saint. And I don't press because as much as China likes to joke with my ass, this isn't something that's screwed around with. I've been friends with this helpless-wreck since the beginning of high-school. And everything with her life has always been crap, but now? It's shit.

She's emotionless right now, and eats another carrot.
Could you do that? Could you just drop a bomb on somebody and be unaffected? Maybe she's already had time to grieve, maybe she's already cried. Alone. At night. Her mom was a gift and I guess there's just an empty box left.
Her note's the return-receipt.

I'm watching her, in silence. It seems like I can talk whenever it's useless, but can't say anything in moments of importance. Her head perks up, but she's not looking at me.
My eyes get caught on how beautiful she really is.

China makes a snarl, or something like it at the approaching person.
I meet his eyes.
Hey, Holly. Glad to see your friend's back, but can we talk for a bit?
I've been missing you.

In a couple ways, Jeremy's my Heaven too. He's sweet, charming. Talks to me like I'm royalty, gives me everything he can possibly give. A good boyfriend.
He's also romantic.
To a certain degree.
Jeremy winks as he pulls me up from the table. I try to look back at China, whose showing more emotion since the past moments combined, but he slips a hand under my chin.
His thumb carcasses my cheek.
Please, don't make a scene.
His whisper is stern and green eyes shush me.
I don't try to look back again.
China can take my tray to the trash. And my book.
Maybe she'll read a few chapters and heal herself.

Jeremy guides me down hallways, past lockers, into a little place kept quiet between the school couples.
It's a passage way between the auditorium, and gymnasium, no cameras, no faculty, and no one else but us.
This makes me jumpy. I can't help it.
Jeremy's almost my idea of heaven.
Almost.

Against the wall, he grips my wrist, and places a hand on my hip. I can't move.
I've learned not to.
Holly, I haven't seen you in a while.
All of you, and I miss it.
Yes, I've had sex with him. So? It was completely consensual.
Everything, and it was. I swear.

I don't just open my legs with a magic word, like every other girl in the school. Jeremy's the only one who's treated me right, and shared things with me. And that means I should give him what he wants, and share everything he needs. Like a good girlfriend.

He's demanding, imperative, but it's just cause he knows what he wants and doesn't waste time.
"I know, I'm sorry J. We-"
He's touching me. He's kissing me.
It's hard and captivating. He doesn't let me pull away, I guess it's for the best.
I do talk too much.