know.”
“Your underage,” he pointed out.
“Oh, screw that! Why are you giving me a lecture when you’re only nineteen?” She teased.
“Shannon,” Travis said quietly. “Maybe we should take you home.”
“No. NO.” She shouted, turning herself around to face Eric’s tombstone. “God, we came to Eric’s funeral to hang out with him one last time. I’m not going,” she slurred, “until I’ve said my words.” She kneeled and put her hand on each side of the tombstone, bowing her head.
Everyone fell silent, waiting for Shannon to start her speech.
“Eric,” she paused, “We knew each other ever since we were practically thinking. And you were the first interesting person in my world. Without you, I probably wouldn’t be what I am today.
“And sure, you make some wrong decisions in life,” she blinked up at me for a moment, “I don’t think you should be damned to hell for it.
“So I’m going to pray. I’m going to pray for you every goddamn morning, and pray for you every goddamn night. I want you to spend the rest of eternity happy and I really hope to see you on the flip side.” She finished.
For a while, nobody responded. But then Shannon spoke up, back in her slurred voice. “I mean ya left to soon. Dottie over here,” she pointed back at me, “didn’t even get a chance to have sex with you.” My eyes widened. She turned to me with a shrug. “We’ll never know if Eric was really good or not. We both know Eric was a great kisser. That must signify something!”
I said nothing.
“I hope you didn’t do it,” she wagged her finger at me, then wagged her finger at the grave, “because we had a deal Eric!”
“Okay Shannon.” Travis went to her side. “I really think it’s time for us to go.”
Carter rushed to her other side to grab her arm. Shannon wasn’t really helping. “Come on,” Carter’s teeth chattered. “We need to go meet up with Gloria.”
“No.” She said stubbornly, forcing herself down on the ground. Travis yanked at her arm hard.
“We’re not playing,” Travis said. “Now c’mon.”
Shannon took a gander at Travis, her eyes taking him in with such a complex expression. Then she pulled him down, putting her arm around his neck, and giving him a full kiss on the lips.
“Aha! Knew it.” I said as Travis and Shannon broke apart to give me a daze look.
“Yes Dottie,” Shannon laughed. “We’re dating! YOU HEAR THAT WORLD,” she yelled to the sky, “TRAVIS WHITE AND SHANNON VERMONT ARE ACTUALLY GOING OUT! THAT’S RIGHT!” She kept laughing as Travis and Carter held her by her waist, the three fading in the distance.
21. RESOLUTION
“Shannon’s wasted.” Aaron said.
I agreed. “I think that’s probably the best term for the state Shannon is currently in.” I tried to smile but it was kinda hard for me to considering the circumstances. Then again, I bet it’s even harder when your best friend since daycare is dead which is why I completely understood the reason behind Shannon getting herself drunk. She tried to get away feeling nothing—but no one can win with a good feeling tonight.
“It’s my entire fault,” I said. I’ve been thinking that a lot lately, probably been yelling it in my sleep. Mom would always give me this sad, worried expression. Dad wouldn’t look me in the eyes at breakfast, but I could see him so clearly fidgeting like he was contemplating what exactly he should say to me. I knew they wanted to reach out, but were afraid I’d pull back.
And my sister—she gave me frequent looks like I came back from the dead. She never annoyed me the way she used to.
“Stop it Dottie. It’s my fault.” I glanced over to see Aaron glare at me, sucking his breath. “I was driving the car.”
But I shook my head. “That doesn’t matter. I demanded we’d go.”
“What? To save your friend? Yeah, because that’s such a criminal thing to do.” His eyes still glazing over me, as if he could not believe what I was saying. “And anyway, if Eric—” I winced, “—were here, he would blame himself. After all, what did happen at that party?” He was close to me now, grabbing my wrists, pretty much shaking some sense into me.
I looked away from him, at the ground. “I need to be alone,” I said.
He dropped my hands and nodded thoughtfully. “Sure.” He turned and walked to the outside of the cemetery.
I sat down in the same spot as Shannon did minutes ago. I just stared at his grave, not moving, not talking, and not even thinking. Time went by, I could feel it. But I didn’t know for sure. All I did was sit.
It didn’t take a while for my thoughts to find me though. I thought of how I would never see him again. Never see his soft smile, or hear his wonderful voice. I would never get to taste his lips again, or feel the warmth of his neck. Eric would never walk on this earth anymore. That wasn’t fair to me and that wasn’t fair to him.
I snapped back when I saw a body walking across a couple of graves ahead of me. I immediately knew it was a girl—she wore a polka-dotted pink dress. A ribbon tied her dark red hair, and a white sweater kept her warm. I thought of her as insane for wearing a dress in this kind of weather.
She went towards me, and I shifted to move out of her way, hoping that she was going to pass me while heading to another grave. She seemed to be doing just that, but when she saw me, she stopped.
And I recognized her.
“Autumn?” I said, my voice was a little horse.
Her eyes widened. She seemed surprise that I was addressing her “Dottie? Hi.” And I noticed that she had a bouquet of pink flowers in her hand.
“Are you visiting Eric?” I asked foolishly. I didn’t know if Eric ever talked with Autumn, but they could have been friends.
“Oh no.” She shook her head, taking notice of the grave that I sat in. And for some reason, a tear suddenly came out of my eye. I didn’t know anything was building up in there, to be honest. I turned my head away from her, wiping my tear with his sleeve. Maybe I should give the jacket back—it wasn’t mine anyway. But then, what would Macy do with Eric’s old clothes?
Autumn sat down next to me, carefully putting the flowers in her lap. She extended her arms to her back, leaning against the palms of her hands. Her legs spread out, and I suddenly wanted to know the reason behind why she wasn’t wearing any pants. “Aren’t you cold?”
She shrugged. “I grew up in Alaska. I suffered much worse than this.”
“So…then who are the flowers for?” I gazed at them for a second.
She looked at me, hard. “My mother.”
“Oh,” I was taken aback. But then, I let myself fall into that trap. Since I was there, I might as well let myself get deeper. “When did she die?”
“She died when I was seven,” she said, “her boyfriend killed her.”
“What?” I asked, my eyes bulging out.
She face was blank. “Oh, right. Your parent’s are all sweet and together? My parents… were having problems in their marriage. She was having an affair with one of her co-workers—he wasn’t right in the head. It was hard for her… she wanted to go back to the way things were—to fix her and my father’s relationship—but once the guy heard, he couldn’t take it.
“So he killed her and then shot himself in the head. All because he wanted her to be with him forever. Things never work out though.”
“I’m really sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t be. It happened a long time ago. I’m sorry about your lost,” she said. “I can tell you really loved him.”
“You know,” I started slowly, “you’re the first person to apologize for my lost.”
“Well,” she wrinkled her noise in that cute exaggerated way, “I didn’t know much about Eric, but I could tell easily he wouldn’t force you to love or follow him.”
I nodded.
“Then again, I remembered my mom falling for the co-worker because he treated me so kindly when my dad wasn’t there.” She turned her head to me. “D
ottie, why didn’t you run when you were given a chance?”
I was like she was watching me through all of the times I had that window of opportunity. I already knew I didn’t want to. “I guess I liked him too.” She pulled out a flower from her bunch and stuck it right on the tombstone.
“Hmm. It’s always the amazing ones that die, isn’t it?” She mused.
I couldn’t have agreed more.
After Aaron dropped me off, I noticed the unopened presents waiting under our Christmas tree. My parents and sister were sitting at the kitchen table drinking hot coco that mom made every Christmas.
They dropped what they were doing when they heard me shuffle in.
“Dorothy.” Mom was hesitant. I remembered that I told her to just call me Dottie when I got back home from the hospital. Maybe she just forgot. Or maybe she doesn’t want me to hate my own name because of him.
I pulled out a chair and sat down. I decided that I should try to understand the perspective my family had on these events. They thought they were losing me. But they weren’t.
I wanted them to know. “Mom, can I have some coco?”
As if—suddenly—everyone my family knew and loved came back from the dead, or so that’s what I read on their faces.
Dr. Daniels room was the same as it was two weeks ago when I first came here. Not that I was expecting a big drastic change or anything.
This was like my second (and most likely last) visit here. Like a regular doctor, she was coming back with the test result. We would finally understand what is wrong with Dorothy Fane. Maybe.
“So Dottie, your