Chapter 4 #2
My stomach twisted and curved like a roller coaster when I made eye contact with JoJo.
Her golden eyes were glossy, and Ryan was staring at me with sincerity etched all over his face.
Daniel nodded his head at me, and Chuckie’s girlfriend bit her lower lip.
I scanned the rest of the faces peering in my direction, making me feel like the giant fucking elephant in the room.
I almost wished I were an elephant right now so I could stomp the fuck out of this torture!
Ryan’s beer was still being held above his head, and then slowly, every single other person raised their drink, and the atmosphere turned arctic.
I trembled a little and bit on the inside of my cheek so hard that I could taste blood.
Tired of looking at the drinks held high in the air, my gaze made its way to Luke.
At least he didn’t know. I could bask in the fact that there was one person here who wasn’t looking at me like I was a fine piece of crystal, ready to shatter at a mere touch.
Scratch that. Now Luke was staring at me, too.
The look on his face was inscrutable. Part of me wanted to turn away, but the other part couldn’t.
We were at an impasse; he was trying to figure me out, and I was trying to figure him out.
His lips parted slowly and then closed again.
We didn’t stop staring at one another until Ryan finally broke the silence.
I watched, despair creeping into my stomach and my heart clenching tightly, as everyone lowered their drinks and resumed their conversations.
Funny. That was how it went with death, too.
When someone died, that was just…it. Everything else just kept on going.
The world kept revolving, your loved ones continued to go to sleep at night and wake up the next day…
as if nothing ever happened. That was why death was so unfair. So, so unfair.
I finally looked away from Luke and opened my fridge to grab a tall-necked beer bottle.
I popped the cap with the bottle opener lying on the counter, gave JoJo a small smile, and walked right out my back door onto my white wooden deck.
I inhaled the biggest amount of night air that my lungs could possibly hold, then tipped the beer bottle back and drank half of the amber liquid, welcoming the burn in my closed throat.
I was usually very good at keeping thoughts of Alex, my dad and his life, and my mom and her ridiculous choices at bay. After what just happened inside, though, the thoughts were coming at me in waves. I felt so alone sometimes, dealing with it all…just like I was when I got the news.
It had been early morning, and the sun was just peeking through the window above my sink as I drank my steaming coffee, closing my eyes and embracing the smell wafting through my house.
I was happy, because I knew it was almost time for Alex to return home.
I already had the party planned out in my head, and I was going to the store that weekend to get a big, white, cotton bedsheet and permanent markers to make his banner.
I was going to hang it up on my porch like we used to do for my dad.
That was one of our favorite things to do as kids when our dad was coming home from a deployment.
Mom would drive us to the store, and we’d pick out a colorful assortment of markers to decorate the sheet that we’d hang up on base, saying “WELCOME HOME, DAD!” If you were to drive past base now, I could almost guarantee that there’d be signs just like that hanging here and there, welcoming the guys home.
After I gulped some more coffee down, my phone started to vibrate on the counter near the pot.
I remembered, distinctly, slanting my head at the strange occurrence; no one ever called me that early because, half the time, I’d just be getting home from a shift and going to bed.
But I’d picked it up when I saw it was my mom calling.
“Mom?” I asked. “Why are you calling me so early? It better be an emergency…” I laughed a little because she probably didn’t even realize how early it was.
“Cammie,” was all she said, and my stomach did that funky little dip thing, like when you go over a huge hill in the car.
“What?” My voice was barely above a whisper. Chills broke out along my arms, and my pulse was thumping so hard I could feel it in my wrist.
“It’s your brother…”
“No.”
Her muffled cries pierced right through me. She didn’t need to say the words that I knew were coming, but she did anyway.
“He’s gone, Cammie.”
The next sound was the shattering of my ceramic coffee mug as it hit my kitchen floor. In fact, the coffee stains were still there on my white cabinets. I couldn’t get them off, no matter how hard I scrubbed.
I was lucky. I got to hear the news from my mom.
My dad knew before anyone. With his ties in the Marine Corps, he was always the first to know just about anything.
Everyone knew our last name, everyone knew that my father was as prestigious in the Marine Corps as the commanding general, and everyone knew that Alexander was going to be a mirror image of my father… until he wasn’t.
My poor mom got the news by opening up her front door at ten o’clock at night.
Two men dressed in their snazzy blue dress uniforms and stark white hats were standing there to tell her.
I was glad I wasn’t there to witness it, because I was sure they had to pick her plump self right off the floor.
I was almost positive that was what happened.
I was lucky I wasn’t there.
I really was.