Chapter Six: Forsaken

“You don’t have to go to school today.”

“No, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t have to.”

“Then, I want to.”

“Oh, Kevin.”

Kevin tried a smile but only managed to curve the edges of his lips. He hugged his Mom, gently placing his head on her shoulder. He didn’t want her to worry. Plus, she didn’t need to know about his school life. She was too busy working to keep them alive. And yet, she offered everything – her time, her love, her condolences. Condolences – what a long, saddening word to use.

He stepped his way out the door, beginning to walk back to school. Back to school. Kevin laughed inside his head. It sounded so happy. It sounded so glad and exciting and beautiful. But now? It only meant more emptiness.

“Hi, Kevin.”

“Are you okay, Kevin?”

“Just checking up on you, man.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“She was special to all of us.”

“Are you okay?”

“We’ve got to stick together for her.”

“Okay.”

Tara would have laughed. It sounded like a story right out of a John Green book.

And it did feel like it, but the only thing that was different was Kevin. He didn’t feel happier or sadder or better or worse. He felt nothing. He felt nothing and everything at once. It wasn’t the best feeling, and it was even harder to describe to anyone. Kevin wanted to feel something. He wanted to be like one of Tara’s friends. He wanted to mourn, to cry, to scream, to deny, to be anything than the state he was in now.

No, he wasn’t ready to go back to school today.

Kevin pushed open the door to the boys’ restroom. A junior passed him, and Kevin recognized him as Victor – one of Tara’s older brothers. Why was he at school today? Shouldn’t he be grieving or staying with his family? Victor glanced at Kevin before silently leaving the restroom.

Kevin felt his face grow cold. He stumbled towards the mirror. Oh, mirrors and their symbols. He twisted the knob, freezing water spilling into the basin. He pushed his hands underneath the faucet, splashing it onto his face. He looked back up to the mirror, staring into his own emptiness.

And then he noticed. He was wearing plaid. Others would laugh at him. Plaid? What was so special about plaid?

“The Winchesters always wear plaid,” Tara laughed. “It’s sexy.”

He gulped, feeling his entire face fill up with tears already. The mirror, the mirror, the mirror. Kevin’s eyes fluttered to watch himself. Something was bothering him. Something in the mirror. No, it was only him. Only Kevin Tran alone in the bathroom, crying like the little boy he used to be.

“I’m sorry,” a voice crackled through the silence.

Kevin glanced back up at the mirror, spotting the outline of the man. Then he was gone. Kevin whirled around staring only at the wall. Was he hallucinating? He closed his eyes, trying to remember the strange man. Trenchcoat. A blue tie. Castiel? Kevin bit his bottom lip, refusing to believe that it was one of those Supernatural characters. Castiel. He was one of Tara’s favorites, wasn’t he? Oh, no.

“Kevin, there you are,” Luke appeared beside him.

The senior collapsed on the ground, covering his face with his arms, refusing to do anything. What else was there to do? Tara hadn’t exactly been his entire life, but she was his best friend. And he missed her. Luke grabbed his right arm, shaking Kevin roughly.

“Kevin, man, are you okay?”

Why did everyone ask if he was okay? Of course he was never okay. He never had been and never will. Nothing was okay. Everything was chaos and loss and pain. Okay was a meaningless word. It was so painful to repeat. Okay. Okay. Okay.

But Tara always asked if he was okay. She always asked him what was wrong. And what did he reply with? Nothing. “Nothing’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with you?”

Yet, somehow, hearing Luke repeat the same question made him cringe. How dare he speak her words. But she was gone now. And her words were gone. And her laughter and teasing and cosplaying was gone. Tara Pham was gone, and Kevin Tran was left.