chapter fourteen – ghosts and instagram posts
"What's going on?" I ask as I run towards Laurel who was standing with a bunch of other kids surrounding the boys locker room door.
"Marc just started fight with the football team" Laurel turned towards me with wide eyes.
"You're such a fuck up" Kevin muttered as he was escorted past with dean Michaels.
"I'm gonna kill you" Marc lunged out of dean Henric's hold and landed on top of Kevin.
"Marc! What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yelled as the deans broke them apart.
The look Marc gave me made my stomach turn. He looked so angry and annoyed.
"I'm a fuck up, but you're fake" Marc spat towards Kevin.
I sat in the first pew next to Wyatt. There were only a few people up here. Some of my Mom's family. Some of my Dad's. Everyone shared the same look. Grief.
Four years ago today, my mother and the baby passed. By the sympathetic looks Wyatt and I have been getting all morning and the influx of people making their way towards Dad, everyone knew.
"Tee..." Wyatt's voice sounded hoarse. He was crying all night.
"Yeah?" I answered absent-mindedly.
"I don't want to get breakfast after this" Wyatt's bloodshot eyes met mine. "I just want to go home and sleep"
"Okay" I swallowed the lump in my throat.
I guess enough time has passed for us to stop the tradition. Mom started it. Going to get breakfast after each service. We haven't missed one yet. Until now. Dad offered to teach the Sunday school class after the service and Wyatt didn't want to come.
I don't know if I'm being selfish but that really hurts.
"Hey" My eyes met calming blue ones.
"Hey" I gave him a small, tired smile.
"Can I-?" Marc gestured to the empty seat next to me and I nod to let him know its okay to sit. "How are you doing?"
I looked at Marc and debated whether or not I should lie and say I'm fine. But he would probably know I'm lying.
"Terrible" I breathed a humorless laugh. "Nothing feels right"
The tears pooled in my eyes and Marc's face etched with concern.
"C'mere" Marc wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. "It's hard. But you'll get through it"
****
"I'll see you at dinner, sweetie" Dad kissed my forehead.
"Have you seen Wyatt?" I glanced around the crowded church. He got up to use the bathroom 30 minutes ago and never came back.
"No. He probably went home" Dad frowned.
"Pastor Caruso" Dad and I both looked at Marc who had appeared by our side with his hand extended.
"Son" Dad grasped Marc's hand and shook it.
"I'm sorry about.. M-Mrs. Caruso" Marc gave Dad a sad smile and Dad gave one back.
"Thank you, Marc" A moment went on before Dad spoke again. "Well I have to go. Get home safe. Both of you"
Dad walked off and left Marc and I standing alone. That's when my tears started falling.
YOU ARE READING
The Preston Playboys
Teen FictionI think that sometimes the universe likes to play sick jokes on people. Like sometimes you drop the ice cream you've been craving on the floor before you're able to get a bite or you crack the screen of your brand new cell phone. Or sometimes you g...
