Use Somebody (76 page)

But as it was, maybe this was all we had.

No turning back.

Phoenix would understand.

“I really cared about you,” I said. He glanced up with eyes full of incredulity but I pressed forward. “I know you never felt the same and you probably don’t give a rip about this now but I never told you before and I may never get another chance so I wanted you to know… I did. And I’m sorry for everything,” I said. “All the games and the fights and the drama. I lost who I was for a while there and… I’m just sorry.”

This was exactly the kind of thing that made him uncomfortable. Even if he didn’t care to talk about it, I needed him to know. It was necessary for my own closure.

He pulled a familiar move—brushing it off with forced levity. “Hey… what’s high school without a little drama?”

That earned a barely-there smile from me. It was amnesty, endearing in a way only Nathan Bentley could pull off. Oh well. I said what I had to say. I gave a cordial nod then turned to go.

“Wait. Scarlett?”

I stopped and waited.

He released a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, too.”

Oh no. I said what I said because I meant it and I needed closure, not because I needed his apology as well. “You don’t have to—”

“How was I supposed to know? You’re a closed fucking book. I saw you sneaking around with Storm and just assumed the worst.”

If I was honest with myself, I could see how he doubted me. At sixteen, I was afraid to admit the depth of my feelings to Nathan because I thought it would only complicate things for us. Many times I pretended to be indifferent out of fear of opening my heart and it pushing him away.

But in the long run, it did more harm than good. We could have both saved ourselves a world of trouble if we had just been honest with one another at the time.

“I know,” I said. “I’m working on it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t care, but everything was so fucked up. You know what I’m saying?”

I bit my lip and nodded, thinking of Miles. I owed him a phone call. “Yes, I do.”

“So… sorry for being an asshole.”

I exhaled deeply. It was everything I could have expected and more. We both spoke our piece and got the closure we needed after all these years.

How often do people get to repair broken bridges?

Tonight I got to fix four.

Phoenix would have been proud.

I walked back gave him a quick hug. “Thank you. For believing me. And for being civil.”

He removed the beanie and combed his fingers through his shaggy hair, looking down at me with that classic lopsided smile. “You’ve changed, Scarlett Rossi.”

“You too,” I tossed over my shoulder on my way out. “You used to be funny.”

* * *

The weather was all wrong.

Today called for a dark, torrential downpour. But the cloudless azure sky was bright and warm, while there were droves of us down here feeling not at all sunny.

Over two thousand people showed up to mourn Preston “Phoenix” Parsons. The overwhelming number should have surprised me, but it didn’t. Phoenix was the kind of guy who touched every person he met. No one attended as an acquaintance. I saw it in every face—the loss of their best friend, their brother.

Had I touched two thousand lives that deeply? Did I even know two thousand people? Doubtful.

It could’ve just as easily been me lying in that coffin. Or Vance. Or Ricky. Or anyone. That was the lesson I missed the first time around. It wasn’t just about mourning the one you lost; it was about celebrating the life he led, and embracing the lives we have yet to live, even after he left us behind.

The number of flowers quadrupled the guests, filling the open air with rosy perfume. Family members made banners and photo collages in his dedication, and so many of the pictures featured our old clique. A trip to Disneyland in sixth grade. A human pyramid at the beach. Middle school graduation. Football games. Junior prom. All six of us in Dirk’s garage. His drum set. Surfing. Bungee jumping. Rock climbing. Sky diving. Even one of me laughing while he and Nathan each kissed a cheek.

The five of us sat in a row during the eulogies. Every person that stood up to speak talked about his zest for life, his big heart, and his fearless spirit. It was his legacy. He was the guy who would try anything once, almost as if he knew his time was short, and purposefully packed so much life into every moment.

There was not a dry eye in the group. So many inspirational stories were shared of the boy who lived a big life every day. In so many ways, he was an example to all of us.

In so many ways… but one.

The girls and I clutched hands as Dirk and Nathan got up to speak, then again when they served as pall bearers. It broke our hearts to see both boys look so solemn. Nathan was sober, Dirk definitely was not.

During the burial, I slipped away. I understood that my friend was gone. I didn’t need to watch him being put into the ground. I wanted to give him a real goodbye, and crowds weren’t conducive to words I needed to say.

These words were just for Phoenix.

I sat under a tree. It was as good a place as any. The whole cemetery was quiet. Still. Somber. Strangely peaceful. It made me wonder if maybe he was still here with me. I knew he wasn’t
literally
here, but I could almost feel him in spirit. At least, I wanted to believe it. Just for a little while.

“Remember when we had to do that presentation for freshmen health class?”

A small breeze blew my way.

“Everyone partnered up and did some lame speech or skit. We blew them out of the water with our rap…
Drug free, that’s how I’m gonna be, won’t see me wasting my life, I’ll be living my dreams…
Wow. We got a lot better at writing lyrics, I think.”

I smiled softly at the memory.

“I was so nervous to get up in front of everyone, I almost forgot all the words. But you reminded me about that time Lexi got us kicked off the Pinocchio ride. And we couldn’t stop laughing! I still think of that day sometimes when I get nervous. It works every time. You were always so quick to put me at ease…”

My eyes grew watery.

“I have never, ever been angry with you, Phoenix. But I’m so mad at you today. I’m so mad for all these people you left behind like this. Don’t you realize how loved you are? Don’t you see these hordes of people that are here for you? We already lost you once. We were given another chance. You came back to us because you were supposed to live a long, happy life.

“So why did you have to do it? Huh? I want to understand but I don’t. You had everything going for you. You have friends and talent and so many more adventures left. What did that stupid OxyContin give you that you couldn’t get from music? Or something else? Anything else.”

That was one of the hardest parts of accepting death—the what-if’s and the unanswered questions. It’s what keeps us up at night thinking about everything else we could have done, and if it would’ve made a difference.

“Did you think you were invincible?” I accused. “Is that why you didn’t you let anyone help you?”

Don’t get me wrong—I understood the need for escape. There were times that I used alcohol or other unhealthy vices to solve my problems, too. There were times that I refused help because I was too stubborn to let anybody in. But that was different. It didn’t have the same kinds of risks or consequences.

Did it?

Or were we on that very same slippery slope…?

“What were you running from?” I asked quietly. I wondered if anyone knew. It’s funny how people can wear masks without anyone ever knowing it, even the closest of friends. Had anyone even looked at Phoenix and realized there was a problem? That he needed help?

I lightly brushed my hand over the grass around me. The green blades tickled my palm. “I know what that’s like, you know. The need to escape. Last year wasn’t among my proudest moments… But I’m not running anymore. I’m getting better.”

Another breeze swept through the trees, rustling their leaves. My eyes fell closed.

A certain smiling face came to mind. The same one that was always on my mind.

Phoenix had lived a big life, but had he ever fallen in love? Had he told her?

“I looked out at those thousands of people that were here for you today, and it made me realize something about life and what’s truly important… I’ve spent so much time hiding behind walls and worrying about things I can’t change. But if I continue down that path, if I keep wallowing in my regrets, I’ll just end up bitter and alone.” I wiped away a tear. “I don’t want that to be my legacy. I want to have hope, and trust, and love, and make some kind of substantial impact on this world. Like you.

“I got a second chance, too, Phoenix. But I’ve been wasting it.”

I used to think I lost my soul that night. It sent me wandering, lost and confused for a year, unsure of my purpose, or if I had a purpose left. But I look at Phoenix—at how young he was when his time was up—and I realize how much more he could’ve done if he hadn’t succumbed.

Life isn’t perfect. We all face challenges. We all make mistakes. Our character isn’t measured by how fast we can run away, but by how far we can fall and still pick ourselves back up.

I climbed to my feet. In the distance I could see the crowds of people still gathered for his wake. After all this time, I was still that girl standing on the outskirts, alone in her corner.

And maybe sometimes, that was okay. Maybe I didn’t always have to dance to the same beat. Maybe it wasn’t necessary to be liked by everyone, or to be at the center of the social circle at all times.

But for someone lucky enough to have found people in my life that loved me, pushing them away and closing off my heart was the exact opposite of living life to the fullest. Love was a precious gift, one that I had taken for granted.

On that note, there were a few things I needed to do.

“Thank you for being my friend,” I whispered into the air. Once more, the breeze picked up and blew the curls across my face. “You were always my favorite.”

I said goodbye to a good friend that day. And I promised to keep his memory and the things he taught me close to my heart.

* * *

A short walk later, I found him exactly where I thought he’d be—standing in front of a gray headstone on the hill with a lovely view of the city below. This wasn’t the first time either one of us had experienced loss. I still wasn’t sure if that made it easier or harder. I watched him there, away from the crowd, lost in his own memories. His black hair blew lightly in the wind, but he was otherwise motionless.

I never got the chance to meet Violet Storm. Her birth year was the same as mine, but the second date carved into that stone was tragically too close to the first. I wondered how different Ricky’s life would have turned out if he never lost his little sister. I bet he wondered the same thing all the time.

I debated whether or not I should announce my presence. I didn’t want to intrude on his private moment, but I didn’t want him to be alone here, either. Ricky and I certainly had our ups and downs—the worst of it being the last night I saw him. However if Nathan and I could reconcile, surely there was hope for us, too.

“Ricky?”

My voiced carried over on the breeze. I knew he heard me, yet he didn’t even glance in my direction.

“Ricky… please don’t shut me out,” I said when he refused to acknowledge me.

We hadn’t spoken since the night of my farewell party, when he was being dragged away to the sounds of my screams. Although I hadn’t forgotten what had happened that night, and things would never go back to the way they were, I’d forgiven him. I couldn’t stand to have bad air between us. Today we had to bury our friend. He wouldn’t want us harboring animosity at his funeral.

“She loved you, Ricky. Just like Phoenix did. Just like I do, too.”

“Damn it, Scar,” Ricky said, an edge of warning in his voice. Still he refused to face me. “Just walk away.” His body was frozen like a beautiful, tragic statue, shoulders hunched, head tilted down, black hair hanging lower than normal to shield his face, every muscle visibly taut.

“We both messed up. But you have to forgive me. And you have to let me forgive you, too,” I told him, a truth I had grown to know. “Anger isn’t your strength, Ricky… it’s your chains.”

He sniffed. Then more of the silent treatment.

Desperation clawed at me, bringing my emotions to the surface. We both made mistakes, but that didn’t erase the countless years he had been my protector, my comforter, my brother, and my friend. I couldn’t let go of those memories. I couldn’t lose him, too.

“Please Ricky,” I pleaded, my voice shaky. “I don’t know what you want me to say, I… I’m sorry.”

He laughed a single dark, humorless laugh and tilted his head towards me. I finally caught sight of his profile.
Holy ravioli
—he had a beard.

“You’re sorry?
You’re sorry I let you down? That I let him down?” His voice was rough and frighteningly void of all emotion, his expression deadly stoic. “I was supposed to protect him. Just like I was supposed to protect
her.”