Chapter 23
Funerals were undeniably one of life's most sorrowful occasions. It was a gathering of people weeping over a dead body. Death marked the conclusion of everything we held dear, leaving no room for hope or improvement.
Everyone wore black, myself included. But why this color?
We often heard that the spirit ascended to a brighter realm, yet here we were, draped in darkness.
Black symbolized the opposite: the end, despair, a void devoid of promise.
Shouldn't we find joy in the belief that the soul embarks on a new, ethereal journey?
Perhaps my thoughts were sick or misguided. It was the way things were done, and who was I to challenge tradition? I thought I might do well to research this and broaden my understanding before voicing my thoughts.
Death had never been something I pondered much.
I was still young; my life was just beginning.
I envisioned myself in my later years, sitting on a porch with my husband, surrounded by children and grandchildren visiting during the holidays.
I imagined passing away peacefully in my sleep.
Yet, so far I had noted that life rarely aligned with our expectations; in fact, it often did the opposite.
I glanced around the Baroque church, I was struck by its beauty, with every detail crafted to perfection. I felt like people back then were much more talented than we were.
Finally, the closing prayer signaled that the service was coming to an end, and soon I would be free to leave.
My parents and I didn't plan to go to the cemetery—only close family would attend.
I didn't get a chance to speak with Jessica; I merely offered my condolences before she retreated to her parents.
The service concluded, and people began to filter out of the church.
I spotted Marco standing alone and Emily with her parents.
We shared a brief glance. Stepping outside for some fresh air felt like a relief.
I lingered, hoping to say goodbye to Jessica while my parents waited in the car.
When she approached, Marco and Emily joined us, and we formed a small circle, exchanging glances.
“I'm so sorry, Jess,” I said, gently rubbing her arm.
“We're sorry too,” Emily added.
“Thank you for being here. I can't believe she's really gone,” Jessica replied, struggling to hold back her tears.
We fell into a silence, realizing there was nothing more to say.
Yet, in that moment, it felt as though death had woven us together.
After a few minutes, we each drifted away in different directions.
I had to prepare for school. There was homework I had neglected that I needed to finish. The house was quiet, except for the occasional beeping of my phone as messages from Zane came through:
“I'm really sorry about Jessica’s grandma. Get some rest; I'll see you tomorrow at school, dummy.”
A new year brought fresh starts, new connections, and love. Zane and I hadn't discussed how we would navigate our relationship at school; after our kiss, he called a few times, but our conversations were short, mainly updates on our lives.
I confided in my mom about dating Zane, but I couldn't bring myself to tell my dad. I chose to leave that task to her, knowing he wouldn't take the news well. My mom suggested inviting Zane over for dinner soon so my dad could get to know him better.
When I approached the school, my heart was a restless ocean, crashing against the shores of my essence, but Zane was nowhere to be seen.
The bell rang, and I headed to class, hoping to catch him during break.
The classroom buzzed with chatter, and as usual, no one noticed me or my newly cropped hair, which was just fine by me.
“I love your new haircut!” I looked up to see Emily setting her beige backpack on the desk next to me. She slid into her usual spot, as she had for the past few years. “Is it okay if I sit here?” she asked with a friendly grin.
“Of course,” I replied, knowing I had no choice or option to decline. I was unsure of her motives; one moment she wanted to be friends, and the next, she seemed to want me out of her and Marco’s lives. I decided to just roll with it.
“Jessica is really upset. We should take her out for a movie or just grab a coffee,” Emily suggested, glancing at me for my approval.
“Yeah, I think that sounds good,” I replied. Just then, the teacher walked in, and I tried to focus on the lesson. The weather outside was gloomy, cold, and rainy, making me long for a nap.
Finally, the lunch break arrived. I dashed out, not even considering that Emily might tag along. My gaze swept the hallway until I spotted Clous approaching, a smug grin plastered on his face.
“Hey there, blondie. Want to play?” he called out, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me; I couldn't stand him. Then, I noticed V and Zane lounging on the opposite side of the hall. A moment later, Jake joined them, along with Clous, who was grabbing a soda from the vending machine behind me.
I locked eyes with Zane for a fleeting second before he looked away.
“What are you staring at?” Emily asked as she caught up with me. “Oh, I see,” she added, following my gaze. I continued to stare, my mind racing. Was he embarrassed to be seen with me? Did he fear V’s judgment or the group's reactions?
I wanted things to feel normal; if we were dating, then we should be together openly, not just in private. I wanted to confront him, but courage eluded me.
“Any updates on Zane?” Emily whispered, curiosity evident in her tone. I hesitated, unsure if I wanted her to know about any of it; she could easily tell Marco, and I hadn't decided if I wanted him in the loop yet.
I shook my head and turned away from Zane. This emotional rollercoaster was exhausting: one minute I felt elated, the next I was engulfed in emptiness. I wished I could read Zane’s thoughts; understanding him might ease my turmoil.
The school day wrapped up, Emily followed me again, and we walked together to the bus stop, making plans to catch up with Jess. Marco seemed surprised to see us together, and I struggled to focus on what she was saying—I was too angry and confused.
We took our usual seats: I sat in the front while Emily and Marco settled in the back. There were four stops before the bus left town. At the second stop, Zane boarded the bus and plopped down beside me, leaving my mouth agape. We exchanged glances, neither of us speaking for a moment. Then…
“I'm sorry. I know you're upset. I just didn't know how to handle things.
I wasn't sure if you wanted me to approach you or if you wanted to keep us a secret from everyone,” he confessed, searching my eyes for understanding.
I felt the same uncertainty; I didn't reach out because I wasn't sure he wanted me to.
It was all so awkward—something that should be simple felt impossible.
“I… I don't know. I guess when two people are dating, they should be able to be together anywhere without feeling ashamed,” I replied, but even as I said it, I felt a pang of shame. I caught a glimpse of Marco’s horrified expression behind me; his disbelief was palpable. Zane noticed too.
“And you're not ashamed? If I kissed you right now, would
that be okay with your friends back there?
” he asked, hoping to elicit a reaction that would affirm my words.
But for some reason, I couldn't speak. I didn't care what others thought, but this was Marco—someone I once loved and envisioned a future with.
As the bus reached the fourth stop, my silence compelled Zane to get off. I felt like I had ruined everything.
The routine on the way home was the usual: I would head out first while Marco spent another ten minutes making out with Emily at the stop, leaving me to walk home alone.
Once inside, I barely had time to exchange a few words with my mom before the doorbell rang. I opened the door and saw Marco. He was insistent on having a talk.
My mom was taken aback when she saw him, but she graciously welcomed him in. We headed to my room, and I shut the door behind us.
“What's going on?” I asked, my impatience bubbling over. I was bracing myself for him to launch into a lecture about how Zane was all wrong for me, but the look on his face told me something else was troubling him. Something deeper.
He was dressed in the same light blue jeans and the white hoodie I had once borrowed from him, his hair cut short enough that his curls barely peeked through. He cut his hair, after all.
Marco began to pace around my room, taking in the unchanged surroundings, while I stood by the door, tapping my foot impatiently.
“Luna, what was that today on the bus? Are you two… close?” He stopped to meet my gaze, his eyes serious.
“That's none of your business,” I replied sharply.
“Please, it's not what you think. He's genuinely bad for you. In fact, I'd go so far as to say he's dangerous,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
“What are you talking about? You don't even know him,” I shot back defensively.
“You're right, I don't. But I know someone who does, and I've heard what he's done,” Marco said, stepping closer to me.
“I don't get what you're trying to say. And why are you doing this to me? You seem happy with Emily; can't I be happy too?” My frustration was starting to rise.
“I'm sorry, but I have to tell you. It's my responsibility to protect you,” he insisted, shaking his head.
“You don't need to protect me. I can handle myself,” I snapped, wanting him to leave but feeling an undeniable curiosity gnawing at me.
“Just hear me out, and then I'll go. You can do whatever you want after,” he said, taking a deep breath.
I nodded, eager to hear what he had to say.
“You know how small towns are—everyone gossips and knows everything,” he began, watching my reaction.
I remained skeptical, waiting for him to say something outrageous.
“I don't put stock in gossip; people always blow things out of proportion,” I replied, feeling disappointed.
“This was in the local news a few years back. I just found out recently. And actually, I was relieved Jessica wasn't dating him anymore. But now… you…” Marco continued, and my eyes widened with intrigue.
“What did he do?” I asked, genuinely curious now.
“He almost killed someone. He attacked a guy so viciously that the poor man is now confined to a wheelchair for life. The chilling part? He'd never even met the guy before. It was just some random person to him. Do you really want to get involved with someone like that?”
As his words sank in, I felt like my heart was a frantic bird, beating against its cage. It can't be. It just can't…