Losing Grip

Chapter 13➷ I'll Be an Old Man by the Time I Get Out of Here

I didn't expect Avan to sit by me in Debate, especially since our hang out yesterday did not end well.

I remembered the sinking feeling in my stomach when Gabriel said her name.

It wasn't the first time people mistook me for Riley but this time felt different. It reminded me that it was her spot and that she never ceased to impact others wherever she went. How many times had she smiled in excitement in front of the truck, brainstorming what flavor to pick? How many times did she communicate to others this contagious joy of hers?

We did not get ice cream. The night ended on an awkward note as Avan walked me home and I struggled not to think too much about the sadness I read on Gabriel's face when I told him the news. She meant so much to so many people.

Still, Avan picked the seat on my left and offered me a caring smile as he got settled.

"How are you?" he asked, dropping his backpack on the floor next to his chair.

The dreaded question.

I pondered my answer carefully. I knew Avan wouldn't believe my lie so it was useless to try and fool him. What was the closest thing to the truth? I said the first thing that came to my mind and as usual, that was a mistake.

"It's beautiful outside, this morning," I heard myself say.

If only I used my brain more often, maybe I wouldn't regret every single sentence I said.

He stared at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. He nodded and did not seem to question my sanity.

"I'm surprised you're in school today," I said as an attempt to lighten the mood. "I've stopped expecting you."

He chuckled. "That was one time, Avery. I missed one day." He brushed back rebellious strands of hair from his face.

I wasn't sure if I should ask why he skipped school that day. I wasn't sure how long he had been at the cemetery when I found him there, fast asleep.

He decided to explain anyway. "Friday was—well, it would have been our third anniversary," he said, focusing on a random spot on the whiteboard as Mr. Scott greeted the class and unfolded the plan for the day with enthusiasm visible in his elaborate hand movements.

Avan maintained an impassive blank face as he cleared his throat. He had probably worked hard to master this look and to sustain it. Regardless of how skilled he got at concealing his emotions from his face, his eyes reflected the true state of his soul and gave away the impact of the memories on him.

Riley never failed to make a big deal about their anniversary. The week before the D-Day, she stayed up every night to make a perfect slideshow depicting the progress of their relationship.

Naturally, I didn't get much sleep that week either. Her squeals and groans of frustration kept me awake and she occasionally nudged me to ask for my input, as if I knew anything about Avan.

"I figured it was only fitting to spend the day with her," Avan added with a studied smile.

I was once again unsure what to say. I knew he didn't expect any soothing words from me. He probably just wanted to talk about her, not to hear someone respond with comforting nonsense.

"She would always start planning your gift months earlier," I told him.

I spoke as if she were still here because in a way, she was. She lived forever protected in our enduring memories.

Mr. Scott's lecture on the origin of euthanasia and the whispers of my classmates faded into the background, leaving the scene for the deafening echo of my thoughts.