The Space Between Infinity- 2

Rated for mild drug use and for cursing.

~*~

I followed them home, after the reception, after the ceremony at the graveside where my mother threw herself on my coffin like a cliche and the ladies from the church choir had to comfort her with empty words and baked goods. Uncle Richard finally forced Aunt Ellie to leave early, because all the sobbing she was doing couldn't be good for the baby. Angelina walked out with the still crying Ryan, whispering something about redemption and God's grace under her breath, fingering the gold cross on her neck.

Everyone went to our house, with it's navy-blue carpeted floors and worn couches, so familiar and so much like home, where millions of memories were . It was strange to see friends who once fought over the remote and had potato chip wars, slouched on the sofa staring blankly at each other, unsure of what to do, what was proper to say.

Nina was sitting on the couch, leaning into Aiden's chest as he stroked her hair, while he counted cracks in the ceiling. Rosie and Jainie and the rest of them were standing by the dining room table, whispering about oh how sad it is and how we'll miss her and what a shame, did you hear how she died, a nasty business, nasty things that we shouldn't be talking about.

Tyler was in the corner, looking so much like the little boy I grew up with, scared and lost with a fading bruise on his eye and a faint red handprint still warm on his cheek. I wonder who slapped him and where the black eye came from, whether it was the same person, whether it hurt, whether he fought over me. He used to, even when we were nine, little arguments with Aiden about letting me in the Boys-Only fort, then as we got older, knocking out Jacob Henderson who had said I was a sophomore slut about as easy as making cereal. He was my super-hero, my little older brother, who transformed over five months from an awkward, rail-thin, short boy, to this new creature; confident and gorgeous, lean with subtle muscles and a fantastic, dangerous smile.

Family, connected by the small resemblances in eyes and noses and hair, connected by the soft grief that encompassed them all, were in groups of two or three, mostly silent, some still crying. My father was upstairs with my mom, I assume comforting her, though I wouldn't doubt that they were both asleep, trying to deny the fact that they had just buried their eldest daughter. What a finalizing thing, to see your coffin being lowered into the ground, to see family and friends throws handfuls of dirt in the ditch; covering, suffocating me with darkness.

My Aunt Beth came downstairs, nervously twittering around like a hummingbird, darting from the table to make sure there was refreshments, to the front of the house, to close the windows and door because rain had been forecasted and finally, going over to Nina.

She cleared her throat and when that didn't call Nina's attention, snapped her fingers twice in her face. Nina jumped, coming out of her daze, then slowly got up.

"It's, um, time for the eulogies. Are you ready?"

Nina nodded then walked over to the dining room table, where everyone had quieted down and focused their attention on her.

"I met Chloe at tennis class when we were both eleven. We grew closer as we grew older and I'm proud to say that she was my best friend in the world. When Chloe d-died, I felt a part of me shatter, because I would never get one of her good morning texts again, I would never lose a tennis match 6-0 to her again, I would never wake up and think of all the things we were going to do that day. She was going to be my college roommate, my maid-of-honor and the god-mother to my children. We planned on even being in the same nursing home as batty old ladies laughing about our younger years."

She took a shaky breath and stared pointedly at the framed picture of me, her and our old coach, all smiling, slightly sweaty, young and alive. Our hair was up in matching ponytails and our hands were clasped together in a loose, natural sort of way.

"That will never happen and it kills me."

Nina, trembling, walked back to the couch, falling into Aiden's arms, breathing heavily.

"Does anyone else want to say anything?" Aunt Beth asked, looking around as people averted their eyes and suddenly became very interested in their shoe-laces or the wallpaper.

Bethany Hoverd, my only competition for valedictorian, was hovering from her seat, unsure whether to get up, when Tyler stood rigidly and took long steps to the front of the table, resting his hands stiffly on the chair. I found myself loosely wandering towards him, as if he was a magnet and I was a little iron chip. He was still wearing his suit, firmly ironed and delicately pressed, even though he hated suits, hated formal things, hated funerals.

I remember once, years ago, we were in his basement, me, Tyler, Nina, Aiden and Daniel; all a bit stoned from the blunt we had been passing around. The radio was on low and we sat in a tight circle, the door locked and a table pushed in front of it.

"I had to go to my aunt's funeral last week. It really sucked. Don't come to my funeral, guys." Tyler slurred, leaning back onto the wall. His hand was resting on my leg, a light smile on his face. We had been like this all night, touches that should have felt normal and insignifigant became burning and sped my heart up ten-fold.

"And why not?" I asked, wrapping my arms around my knees, subconsciously pulling my leg away as I noticed Nina's discrete glare. She liked him, I knew that, but flirting and actually doing something with Tyler were very separate things.

"Because, those things are depressing as shit and I'd prefer you guys celebrate my life by living yours, instead."

"Hear, hear." Aiden called, half-heartedly raising his arms up in a cheer.

"I'd love to see who'd show up at my funeral," Daniel said, laying on the maroon carpet, staring at the ceiling.

"See, that's depressing. Why would anyone want to see what happens at their funeral? Why would anyone want to die?" Tyler said.

"It's not that we want to die or that we want to see our funerals. It's that we want to see who cares enough to show up." Nina said softly, imprinting whimsical flowers and spirals onto the carpet with her fingers.

The conversation died after that and we eventually began talking about the homecoming game and how our sophomore year was going great and other miniscule, non-important things that didn't matter then and doesn't matter now.

Tyler's hands were still stiff on the back of the chair and he swallowed hard, his foot tap-tap-tapping on the floor, which he only did when he needed to calm down. He glanced around the room and I was so close to him, I could smell his cologne and a nauseuatingly fruity smell which I can only assume was Liza's perfume.

He looked like he had aged ten years in the week I hadn't seen him but he still had a lost-little-boy look on his face. His eyes were glazed as they finally rested on the general area where I was and it hurt to see him look beyond me, onto the same mantle Nina had stared at. He was looking instead at the picture of me and him as little ten year olds, our clothes covered in mud, with a bright green lizard poking out of my hand. He closed his eyes and inhaled then exhaled sharply.

"Chloe. I'm sorry. I forgive you."

Everyone stared at him, confused as he tread to the front of the house, open the door and left, slamming it shut. You couldn't see, but the door had miniscule cracks all over, a brand that Tyler had once been there, proof that sometimes you can't see the damage one has done.

He had forgiven me. He was sorry.

The room was completely full but I had never felt so alone.