The Truth About Kian

04. Sweep the streets I used to own

:: C H A P T E R  F O U R | SWEEP THE STREETS I USED TO OWN ::

I nervously tugged on the hem of my black dress while Jules fidgeted beside me. "I can't guarantee that I won't kill anyone," he muttered. "But I can get us out of here in less than two minutes if we make a break for it now."

"We've come this far," I hissed. "We're not giving up now. Besides we owe it to Kian."

We were sitting in the back pew of the church at Kian's funeral. I felt like an imposter in my cheap little dress and flats. Judging by the way Jules stared fixedly at the front, he obviously felt the same way.

"Yes," Jules agreed. "But I don't think Kian would have expected this many Inheritors to come."

I glanced around the church. While Kian's family and neighbours sat on the left-hand side of the church, the finely dressed funeral-goers had taken over the right side. The aisle divided us from them, and the divide was more than just five feet of space. Our Sunday best looked like rags compared to their clothing, and people on both sides were steadfastly avoiding each other's eyes. I suppose none of us were crass enough to start a fight at a funeral.

I frowned when I realized that very few have-nots under 40 were sitting on the left-hand side. Where were Kian's friends from the wrong side of the tracks? I could see Davina's bright hair that was twisted up into a strangely tidy bun and Gale's dark head beside her, but where were the rest of Kian's have-not friends?

Right from the beginning, I could tell that it was going to be a simple service, but it was something that I thought suited Kian. He had never been the pretentious sort despite his fame at St. Benedict. The minister asked a few people to come up and share stories of Kian before the eulogy.

I recognized Austin, the former captain of the basketball team, as he strode up to the podium.

"I didn't really like Kian when I first met him," admitted Austin as he shuffled his notes nervously. "He was a scholarship student, and it's kind of normal to give people like him a hard time."

"Like that's changed," Jules growled, and I elbowed him in the side.

"It's not something I'm proud of," Austin added quickly, a panicked look darting across his lean face as he heard murmurs from the left side of the church. "And after playing with Kian in my senior year, I realized that he stood for a lot of good things ... like winning."

"Get any inspiration from that?" Jules murmured.

"Other than learning that Austin is a reformed jerk who's bound to relapse soon?" I whispered. "No, nothing at all."

But Austin's speech was probably the most heartfelt of the bunch. Other speakers emphasized Kian's sports skills and good qualities, but their speeches focused on superficial details — not Kian as a real person. I got the feeling that everyone seemed to be more upset about losing a great athlete and the potential for winning more championship banners.

That is, until Liam began to read the eulogy for his best friend.

"Losing Kian has shocked and devastated all of us," said Liam, his firm voice carrying to the back of the church. "Kian always pushed himself to be the best possible version of himself that he could be. He didn't let his experiences as a scholarship student make him into a bitter person."

Beside me, Jules scoffed quietly, and I could hear the same sentiment being echoed throughout our side of the church.

Liam smiled half-heartedly. "I know many of you here today don't agree with me, but that's why Kian was such a good guy. He looked for the best in any situation. Even when things didn't go his way, he didn't give up. He just worked harder and played like the top one per cent."