Losing Grip

Chapter 31➷ We're Not Getting Married, Are We?

Before I knew where I was going, my feet started guiding me away from the car and from the key that I had just dropped.

Dad looked confused about my reaction, but I couldn't come up with any reasonable explanations. He didn't try to hold me back.

As I strolled on the sidewalk, the sun ironically smiled down at me, permanently hovering behind me and watching over me.

I walked into the cemetery. I had been to Riley's grave so many times that my feet could retrace my steps without any orders from me.

White lilies rested against the headstone, withering away just like the writing on the sticky notes.

If I were to write anything now, I would tell her that it was all my fault.

The car was my idea. I could have prevented all that if I had just encouraged Dad to get her a T-shirt or a concert ticket. Why did I pick a car out of everything?

I didn't know how long I stood there, mindlessly staring at the words engraved on the stone: Beloved sister. For once, my mind was blank. No lingering memories. No haunting thoughts. Nothing but disturbing radio silence.

"Avery." I heard the name, but it took a while for my brain to register that it was mine.

Avan was standing there when I turned around, his hands tucked into his jean pockets.

"I didn't think I'd find you here," he said.

I supposed a cemetery wasn't where teenagers usually celebrated their birthdays.

"I was just thinking," I told him.

I had been trying to push back all the things I could have been thinking about to soak in the eerie calm that resided here. Many other things hung around in the back of my head, competing for my attention: Mom, her son, school, car. Those words seemed to rotate continuously in my mind, but when I was here with Riley, they faded to the background.

"I have an idea," Avan said. "Come with me?"

I watched him suspiciously as he nodded towards the exit. I followed him to his car outside.

He rarely ever drove it, and the last time he gave me a ride, some guy yelled that we were moving like snails. I wondered if he shared my phobia.

"Would it be pointless to ask where we're going?" I asked, putting on the seatbelt.

Avan nodded with a smile.

"How have you been?" I asked him as he pulled away from the side of the road.

He didn't answer directly. "My parents are coming for a brief visit in two days."

"You don't sound particularly excited about it."

"Well, Mom said that they had good news. And from what I've learned over the past few years, she uses 'good' loosely."

I smiled to myself, but only for a second because soon, he added, "I heard your mom came back." His voice sounded cautious, as though he didn't know how to approach this.

"How did you know?" I asked, mostly to buy myself some time before having to think about it.

"Your dad told me. He called me earlier this week."

"They've been getting along well," I said. "I don't know how to feel about it."

Maybe it was selfish, but I didn't want them to get any closer. I didn't want family dinners with her and her kid on Sunday evenings, I didn't want shared vacations, I didn't want any mother-daughter bonding hang-outs, I didn't want to babysit her kid.