Chapter 2: Best Friend

I'm wide-awake after only a few hours of sleep but apparently it was just enough to rev up my brain. I try like hell to will my mind to relax but it's no use. It's as if my body is attached to someone else, keeping me from the very thing I so desperately want-to avoid my shitty reality for a little while longer.

I reach around the bed for my phone and finally find it, still warm from somehow working its way under my hip. I have to turn the brightness down before I can focus and switch the music to my Mozart playlist. It's at the top, so it's easy to find. Hopefully, it'll do the trick and send me back to dreamland. It always worked when Mom played him for me as a kid. Especially when I had nightmares.

Another few minutes go by but I'm completely awake. I can't get him out of my head, no matter how hard I try. My curiosity about him is starting to make my daily trip almost a game. Will he be there today? Will he take one look at me and walk away, like he did the last time? Why is he always there? And what made him look at me when he's never even acknowledged me before? I'm not sure I'm going for Zack anymore.

I glance down at my phone and notice I have three texts messages. One from Maddy, whom I've known since sixth grade, so by default, she's also my longest friend, and two from Skylar. He's a friend, but also the guy who wants to date me even though I don't feel the same way about him. He's hot and tons of girls like him, but I just can't get past the friend stage.

My fingers automatically tap the "Messages" icon.

Skylar: Hey, thought you were coming over today. LOL

Skylar (an hour later):  Did your phone die?

Maddy: Skylar's looking for you so why the fuck is he texting me?

Shit.

Even though Maddy and I had been BFF's since grade school and were practically inseparable, now she pretty much hates me. Six months ago her long-time boyfriend made a pass at me and ever since, she's been on the verge of strangling me whenever we make eye contact. Funny thing is, he made the pass at me, not the other way around. But he got to keep her and I get the bullshit he left behind.

Whatever, I don't need her, either.

I shoot Skylar a quick text, telling him I'm sorry for bailing on him but I don't give him a reason. I can't have him thinking I'm sorrier than I am but I also hate myself for being so distant. I'm not a mean person and Skylar's a good friend, but he overanalyzes damn near everything I say or do. After a while, it gets annoying and makes me want to back off from him entirely. I'm a loner. I always have been-even before my entire family died on me.

Like clockwork, my thoughts go straight back to the cemetery. He's becoming the first thing on my mind in the mornings, whether I've slept or not. It'll be hours before I can go back but this time I'm more anxious than ever to see him. He's mysterious and even a little scary but he definitely has my full attention. Maybe I should introduce myself? If he'll talk to me, that is. He's intimidating as hell, no warm or fuzzy vibes, but something makes me want to try. I can't explain it; I just want to know him.

Closing my eyes, I try to think back to the first time I saw him. It was five months ago and I was the only person left standing after his graveside service, frozen in grief, just staring at the fresh mound of dirt for hours, wiping away tears with what was left of my one dissolving tissue. I noticed his black cloak first. He stood like stone only a hundred feet away doing the same thing I was doing, only he wasn't looking at a mound of dirt, he was simply looking down, his hands crossed in the front as if praying-or maybe remembering. I'm actually surprised I even noticed him, since the rest of the service was a blur. He didn't move or even flinch as I cried for my brother.

I was already deep in a downward spiral of depression as thoughts of taking my own life were starting to flood my mind. It seemed impossible to be in this world completely alone, even being a loner and even if I still had someone left in my life who sincerely loved me.

Aunt Kelly.

But even she didn't know how dark my world had become. Ways of how I could end my misery without making a mess and not be in pain devoured my thoughts. I wanted the excruciating loneliness to end and when Aunt Kelly figured out I was in trouble, she stepped in and made my first appointment to see a shrink. That's when I knew I had to stop the horrific thoughts on my own or face months, maybe even years of therapy in some kind of psych ward until I got my shit together. Just thinking about it pricks at my gut, but it wasn't the shrink who fixed me. I'm the one who pulled myself out of that black hole and I'm the one who begged my dead brother to help me. I figured out right then that I would have to secretly suffer through the loss of my entire family on my own. I would practically have to become a different person. So on the surface, I did. I still do my best to seem healed and fine, but underneath the artificial bullshit, I hope like hell the volcano of grief swirling around in my mind doesn't suddenly erupt.

So when I finally noticed the dark man in the cemetery, it was almost a relief to shift my attention to someone I knew nothing about, someone who made me nervous but captivated my thoughts even more than my grief.

And I'm guilty all over again...

**

I pull my mom's old Volvo in to an already packed school parking lot but manage to find a space all the way in the back. Aunt Kelly thought it was the safest of the no-longer-needed vehicles; it was also the one I was most used to driving. Every time I get in I feel closer to Mom and in a morbidly weird way, I kind of like that it still smells like her.

I reach over to grab my backpack from the passenger seat, startling when I see Skylar standing with his hands in his pockets right outside my window.

"Hey, you," he says, his expression brightening into a smile.

"Hey." I open the door, hoping he doesn't give me the third degree before school even starts.

"Walk ya to class?"

"Okay."

He falls easily in step beside me. I'm pretty sure he's about to ask why I didn't show up yesterday. I need to think of an answer and fast. He knows about my depression and takes it upon himself to constantly evaluate me.

Skylar's eyes dart over to mine and he hesitates, clearing his throat. "Everything okay?" he asks, his tone already laced with concern.

I'm not in the mood for this, I already hate the way he's looking at me, and instantly I'm pissed. I stop, which makes him do the same, and he turns to look back at me. I know he's worried that I'm slipping back into a black hole again. I know he wants to help. I can see it in his eyes and his expression confirms it.

Holy hell.

"I'm fine," I bite back, trying to calm myself down and not walk away from him. I hate that he knows that I shove every painful feeling deep inside.

"Kate," he pauses like he's trying to choose his words wisely, "you can't overcome it on your own. It doesn't work that way."

"Stop trying to analyze my every move," I practically growl, "I said I'm fine."

His face drops and I instantly feel like shit. He doesn't deserve this, he's been a good friend, but I know he wishes we were more. Ever since he tried to kiss me it's been slightly awkward between us. But I can't worry about that now. He's pretty much the only friend I have and I don't want to lose him, so I take his hand and squeeze my fingers around his.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a little sensitive this morning."

He shakes his head and glances back at me. I catch the slight relief behind his eyes. "Remind me not to ask you any questions before eight," he jokes.

The mood is lifted, thank God, and I'm suddenly grateful he's not upset that I went off on him. Skylar's easygoing like that but sometimes I take advantage of his kindness.

I need to work on that.

He opens one side of the double doors and waits for me to step inside first. It's ear piercingly loud and the familiar smell of high school immediately hits me. A subtle combination of pencils, books, and gymnasium mixed with an overpowering aroma of perfume and cologne. It's enough to give anyone sensitive to smells a massive headache until around fourth period when it finally calms down to just plain B.O.

I make my way quickly to my locker, stuffing in my backpack as wadded up gum wrappers and loose papers tumble to the floor. I have a bad habit of using it as a trash can. Probably should work on that, too.

After the first bell rings the noise level subsides a few decibels and I notice Skylar's leaning against the locker next to me looking down at his phone. I try to be a good girl and pick up a few pieces of paper, wondering why he's still here.

 "You can go," I say. "I'll see you at lunch."

He looks up at me as if he's hearing me for the first time. "Oh," he shakes his head, "yeah, okay." He smiles. "I'm playing Minecraft with a dude in Sweden. He's fucking great at it."

I roll my eyes and laugh. "Put your phone away and go learn something."

His lips curl into a smile but he doesn't look up. His fingers type something into the phone before turning it off and slipping it in his back pocket. "Okay, see ya later." He winks and walks away.

Skylar doesn't have anything to worry about, his grade point average is never below a 4.0. Hell, he's the main reason I'm passing all my classes. He's like the perfect guy-smart, good-looking, athletic-so why can't I be normal and like him as a boyfriend? I shake my head, wondering why I'm so freaking weird, and head toward my first period class. I hope my heart isn't making a huge mistake.

***

The last few hours of school have been torture, mostly because I've been a nervous wreck, trying to think of ways I can approach the man at the cemetery. I've even rehearsed the conversation, playing out every scenario. If he's nice, it'll be easy, but if he's not or if he's shy or combative or something, I'll probably need to back off.

Finally, the last bell rings and I can hardly wait to get to my car. Today is the day and I'm pretty sure I've gathered up enough courage to actually talk to him. I was going to tell Skylar about it at lunch but he whipped out his stupid phone and started playing his stupid game again with the stupid guy from Sweden. The plus side is, now I understand why I don't feel the way he does. Skylar's a sweetheart and I couldn't have made it through these past few years of high school without him, but in many ways, he's still just a kid. Until now, I didn't realize that I want so much more because I'm way beyond feeling like one. Not after the shit life I've been dealt.

Before I do anything, I have to drop off a book at the library. I'll still get to the cemetery earlier than normal but hopefully the extra time will help calm me down. I already have spikes in my stomach just thinking about what I'm going say.

I'm halfway to my car when I notice how much colder it is outside. The wind is picking up and I watch a flock of black birds simultaneously leap from the top of a tree as their wings create a choir of flapping sounds. Their movement is captivating and I have to pull my eyes away when my phone chirps and Skylar's name pops up.

Skylar: Chemistry notes. You still want them?

Me: Yes, can I come by later?

Skylar: I have practice after school Come at 7

Me: KK

One thing about Skylar, the boy can throw the crap out of a football. He's been the starting quarterback every year since eighth grade. The coaches were so impressed with him as a freshman they bumped him up to varsity at the beginning of our sophomore year, which doesn't happen every day, especially in Texas where football fans are borderline obsessive.

The library parking lot is bustling with people walking to and from their cars. Old people, teenagers, even a group of mothers in workout clothes pushing baby strollers. Carefully maneuvering around a man on a bike, I slow down at the return box and drop the Jane Austen book I only half read into the slot. As I pull away, I realize the sun that was shining so brightly this morning is now hidden behind a heavy bank of thick clouds. The gray hoodie I left on the floorboard a few days ago is still there and I'm grateful for my lack of organizational skills.

The closer I get the darker the skies become as little needles begin to prick at my stomach. God, I hope it's not going to rain. I'm only a couple miles away from the cemetery but I'm already starting to shake and I know it's not from the sudden chill in the air. I've got to get ahold of myself before I try to approach him. Maybe I should plan my little introduction on another day? Or maybe I shouldn't try to talk myself out of it. I've been anxious to know more about him. I have to do this. I can't back down now.

I turn onto the cemetery road, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. The same rusted iron gates greet me, creaking in the breeze. I park along the side of the road and pull down the visor to check my face. No food in my teeth and my mascara is intact.

Check.

I slowly open the car door and my hair is immediately swept up by wind, whipping it in all directions. Whatever is causing these clouds to roll in is packing a punch.

Please don't let it rain.

Pulling the hood over my head, I manage to push all my brown strands in so I can see where I'm going. Zack's grave is just over the hill and as I get closer, I see someone crouched next to a headstone, bracing themselves against the wind. My heart starts to pound in my chest. I can tell it's definitely him the closer I get. The man in the dark cloak.

So much for preparing myself.