November 24th: You don't recover from a night like this.

Monday December 1st, 10:17 AM

“Have you seen Poppy?”

Lia slammed her locker and stared at me. “She really doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Well, I need to... Can you just ask her if she’ll hear me out? We...”

“I really can’t.” She gave me a strange look, halfway between annoyed and regretful. “Look, Kennedy, there are plenty of girls around here, whether it seems like it or not. Find someone. Someone who isn’t Poppy. She’s... She’s not your type.”

“How would you know?”

She sighed, adjusting her sweater. “Kennedy, you’re a nice guy. Really. And you’re patient and sweet and willing to overlook a lot of bullshit, obviously, because Poppy is all about the bullshit. But I know her better than you do. She’s... Look, I don’t know how much she’s told you about herself, and I really don’t care. But she’s not who you think she is. I promise. Find someone else. Leave her be.”

“She’s my best friend here. I’m not going to just... Leave her be.”

Lia blinked at me, then rolled her eyes and shouldered her bag. “Look, Kennedy, she’s my best friend. You’re another in a long string of boys who she’s put through their paces. I know she makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside and it’s all very touching, really, but she doesn’t do this. Or, really, she always does this. Don’t try to stop it. She’ll break your heart.”

She breezed past me. “She already did,” I called after her. Hands in my pockets. Lia ignored me. I leaned against the lockers and sighed. Let my head bang hard against the metal doors. Right then, I hated Poppy Law.

*****

Friday December 26th, 11:55 PM

“Is this it?”

“Yeah. I think parking is... Yeah. Turn right. Here. Right. Good.’

Josephine pulls into a parking spot and turns off the engine. “Do you want me to come?”

I shrug. “Whatever you want.”

She gives me a long look. “Will you be okay out there?”

“Yeah.”

I’m not sure about that. But I can pretend.

Josephine isn’t convinced, but she gives me the benefit of the doubt. “Alright. You’ve got your phone. Call me if you need me. And don’t stay out there too long. You’re going to catch your death of pneumonia.” She shoots me a small smile, but she’s only half kidding.

“Right.” I stare at the door handle. “Hey, can you...”

She blinks at me. “Oh.” She reaches over me and pushes the door open. I smile at her and step out of the car, then stick my head back inside. “Look... Thanks. Seriously.”

She shrugs. “Whatever you need. I’m sort of stuck with your sorry ass, you know.”

“I know.” I stand up and bump the door shut with my hip.

I head toward the curving road that winds through the cemetery, hands hanging awkwardly as ever at my sides. These roads haven’t been plowed in a long time. My feet are freezing. Every hundred yards or so there is a set of street lamps, but they cast only a dim light on the rows of graves. You wouldn’t think a small community would have so many deaths. But it’s an old graveyard, and closer to Mason than to town. So I guess it makes sense.

I remember where she’s buried. Little things like that are impossible to forget. Every step was agonizing, that first time. I didn’t attend the burial. Didn’t watch her father throw in the first handful of dirt, looking appropriately tearful. I wouldn’t have been welcome, and I probably couldn’t have handled it, anyway. I went later. In the middle of the night. Max had called to tell me where to look. He felt sorry for me. He was the only one.

It’s not hard to find, now. Four lights down, you turn to the right. It’s the sixth row past the light, three back from the road. Her headstone neighbors her mother’s, though Poppy’s is more elaborate. A piece of granite, half-buried in the snow. Her mother’s is flush to the ground. You wouldn’t even know it was there, now. Tobias didn’t want to pay for a more expensive stone. I understand why, now. A month ago, it just angered me. Now, I can’t decide which of Poppy’s parents I despise more.

There are flowers poking out of the snow. They’ll be dead in the morning, but for now I pull them out carefully with my left hand, struggling to dig them out of the snow with my frozen fingers, and lay them on its surface. They’re from Lia. A soggy note is attached. We miss you, Poppy. Merry Christmas. It seems at once ridiculous and charming. I’m not sure why, but it hits me harder than ever, all of a sudden. That she’s gone. Not just for me. For everyone.

“Hey.” I crouch down next to her headstone, biting my lip. “I feel kind of stupid. You’d probably make fun of me. With my broken arms and my busted up shoulder and all that. Sitting here in the snow. Talking to you. It’s not like you can hear me. If you could, it would be kind of humiliating. You hate stuff like this. Or at least, I think you do. I don’t know how well I know you, really. For some reason, I feel like we met a long, long time ago. I don’t know. See, I told you. I’m lame. You’d mock me, if you were here. I know you would. I would never live this down.”

I’ve sunken down into the snow, halfway up my calves. I sit down, though I know getting up will be impossible, and I will be frozen, and Josephine will yell. “We need to talk, Poppy. About this whole business. Because you left me this message, and I don’t know what it means. Because if you did what they say you did, then it’s true. And you love me. Care about me even when you hate me love me. Make me chicken soup when I’m snotty and pathetic and sick love me. Throw yourself under a bus for me love me. And I don’t know why that’s so hard for me to believe. But I really don’t. Because I think you did this all on purpose. Which I get. And so you were just telling me what I wanted to hear, because you’d never get to tell me anything again, and you were trying to make me happy because you knew it would mean something to me, even though somehow it doesn’t, if this is true. And I know I make no sense, but hear me out, Poppy. Because if you did what I think you did, I get why. Your father was a jerk. Not a little bit of a jerk, like he drinks too much and orders you to make him grilled cheese jerk. But a beats your mother, hits your boyfriend, only pretends to like you when other people are around jerk. And I was an idiot to you, and that couldn’t have been fun. And none of your friends really got you, probably including me. And your mother was dead, or not, and I think you knew more about her than we think you knew. And that sucks. And if I were you, I don’t know what I would’ve done. But I can see. How you would be desperate and all that. And it sucks, what you did, or what I think you did, or whatever, but I get it. I might’ve done the same thing. And in that case, your message doesn’t mean a lot. So I don’t want to assume that it does. I mean, it does, but it doesn’t mean you love me love me. And that’s fine. I don’t even like me, so I don’t really get why you would. But you know. I kind of wish, a little bit.”

My casts are wet. They’re not supposed to get wet. I’ll probably have to get them replaced, and it will probably cost entirely too much money, but I don’t know what else to do. I need to talk to her. And it’s snowing. And I can’t stop the snow. I couldn’t even stop her from dying. I certainly can’t stop the snow.

“But whichever it is... I don’t blame you. And I know I fucked up. I know I didn’t... If you did, then I fucked up. And if you didn’t, if you were just saying that because you wanted it to be the last thing I heard you say, that’s okay too. But either way. I fucked up. We... I wish we’d been talking. Because when you died, it... It broke my heart, Poppy. Seriously. I’ve never... My sister, she was raped. I beat the guy up, who did it. And I never told you that. But that, that broke my heart. The way she reacted. It just... It fucking destroyed me, Poppy, but you... When you died, it was like, it was... Because I really did love you. I don’t know if you think I was just saying that, or if I didn’t know what I was talking about... And maybe I didn’t, because Lia says I didn’t even know you, and I believe that, even though I thought I did, I was sure I did, but now I know... And look, I know I’m not making sense, and again, I’m sitting here spilling all my deepest secrets to a corpse buried under six feet of dirt and a solid foot of snow, and I probably look a little bit crazy, and my sister is going to kill me – the one who it happened to, and all that, my twin... She’s kind of a hardass, because she worries about me, and all that. You know. But yeah. No, but she’s going to kill me, because I really am going to get triple pneumonia, or something, because I’m sitting here in the snow with wet clothes and no coat on and I...” I swallow the lump in my throat. Stare up at the sky. The moon glares back at me through the falling snow. “Jesus, Poppy, I just love you. I really do. I always did. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I let you down, that I couldn’t save you, all that sappy stuff you would hate, I... I’m sorry I didn’t find out about your mother till after, because I would’ve told you, and I’m sorry... I... I don’t know if you did love me, or if we were just friends with benefits, and either way I think it would destroy me the same, but... Jesus, Poppy, I love you. Love you love you. And I know you turned it into a joke, at first, and then you turned me down, and I know it might have wrecked us, and I know it’s not helping me at all to be telling you this, but I did. And I do. And if you are listening, because I was wrong about this whole God thing and I’m really as stupid as you thought I was... You’ll probably be laughing at me right now, and you’re going to laugh even harder when I say this, but... I... You were my first love. And... And I feel really cheesy, sitting here taking to you, and saying all of this, but you were. And I... I’m never going to forget you. You changed me. And I miss you, you idiot, and I don’t know why you had to die, and whether you did it on purpose or not, and whether you loved me back or not... I wish we’d had more time. Because I don’t want to talk to you like this. I want to talk to you for real. And I... I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being an idiot and a jerk and I’m sorry for never knowing what to say. Because... I just love you. I love you. I don’t know when it’s going to stop. I don’t know if I want it to.”

I bite my lip. Stare down at the ground. My jeans are soaked through. I’m shivering like crazy. But I sit there for awhile, anyway, freezing cold. Just spending time with her. Because a part of me doesn’t care if it’s cheesy, if she would’ve thought I was lame, if I do catch pneumonia and die. I miss her. I want to be near her. I don’t know what else to do. For five months, she’s meant everything to me. Everything. I have held onto her, have grabbed at every piece of her that I could find, stowed her away wherever she would fit, wherever I could carry her. And when I get up, when I stand and shake off the snow and walk back to my sister in the midnight dark, I will be letting her go.

*****

Monday, December 1st, 5:12 PM

“Poppy, can we please talk?”

She leaned against the door frame and smacked her gum, giving me a withering look. “I think we’ve talked too much, Kennedy. I really do.”

“I... I didn’t mean it.”

She sighed. “Yes, you did. Don’t talk like that. Don’t disqualify your feelings. Look, you’re not the first guy to make an idiot of himself like that. And you won’t be the last. But that’s not what I want, Kennedy. I don’t want love. I just want... I want a friend. And I want sex. Sure. Whatever. But I’m not going to do this if you want more. I’m not that girl. I’m not going to lead you on.”

“Poppy.”

She shook her head. “Kennedy, I don’t want a relationship. Do you not get that? You’ve been a great friend. Seriously. Since you moved here, my horizons have been brighter and all the colors have seemed a little bit more vivid. Is that what you want to hear?” She rolled her eyes. “I like you. Because you’re funny and you listen to me and you have nice abs and you’re on the good side of mediocre in the sack. And whatever girl snags you in the end will be very lucky, and I will be honored to attend your wedding. I suggest you propose with white gold, square cut diamond. All the rage these days. But I have a lot on my plate. And I do not need you on my plate. I will eat you, but I will not eat you. Capice?”

I bit my lip. “I just...”

She held up a hand. “It’s done, Kennedy. And I don’t think you understand this. I think you think that I’m going to change my mind, and when you start down the sidewalk I’m going to run up to you, screaming for you to wait, and we’re going to kiss in the most passionate and beautiful way, and the camera is going to rotate around us, and I will fall in love with you, desperately in love with you. Except this is not some cheesy romance movie. I’m a headstrong bitch. I am bitter. I hate men. All men. Tobias poisoned me against your gender. I apologize. I like to drink. I like to jerk people around. I like casual sex. I don’t love people. You are no exception.”

“What, that’s it? You’re pleading the callous bitch defense?”

She stared at me. “That’s low. That’s fucking low.”

“What, are you denying it?”

“Fuck you, Kennedy. Just... Fuck you.”

Her eyes were shining. We stood there for a second, just staring at each other, neither of us wanting to make the next move. “I’m done with this,” she said after a moment. The door slammed in my face.

It was the last time I ever spoke to her. I tried to call her later that night. She never picked up the phone. I didn’t really think she would.

*****

Saturday, December 27th, 2:10 AM

“Tell me about her.”

She perches on the end of my bed. My bed. But it’s not, not really. I slept here for months. Poppy slept here with beside me, probably more often than she should have, if she really were so desperate for me not to fall in love with her. But somehow, though home is three hours away, I feel at home here, too. I think a part of me always will.

“She had red hair. Hazel eyes. She was really pretty. And I’m not just saying that because. You know? Everybody thought so. She was always mad about something, but she was... I don’t know. At school, she was always happy. I guess kind of like... I don’t know. You know.” Like you used to be. But I can’t say that. “But yeah, she was beautiful. And really smart. She got some of the best grades in school. They might have been the very best, I wouldn’t know. Anyway. She lived next door. Her father... God, he was crazy.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. The first time... I mean, when... One night, I was over there, right after I came here, I guess, and he found us... I mean, not like, doing it, but you know? Like, he knew that... You know. And he decked me. Jesus. Almost broke my damn jaw. He used to hit her mom, you know? God. He was fucking crazy. She never talked to him, you know that? He would talk to her and she’d just pretend she didn’t hear him. It drove him crazy, you could tell.”

“Uh-huh.” She’s listening intently, her head resting on her hand. I realize that this is the first time we’ve talked, really talked, since summer. Since she fell apart, and I followed her, and we both forgot how.

“We were... I mean, we were friends. Best friends, kind of, even though I didn’t really know her all that well. She told me things, things I was pretty sure she hadn’t told anyone else, but she’d never really answer my questions. She’d just throw it in when I least expected it. She was like that. She was the first person I met here, and everything. I think we’d actually slept together before I met anyone else. I don’t know for sure. It’s all jumbled up in my head.”

She nods, giving me a tight smile. “I know the feeling.”

“But yeah. I... I really liked her. She didn’t feel the same way. Or she said she didn’t. She could tell, though, that I did. She made fun of me. Told me I needed to get over it. But I never really did. It’s hard to, when she’s everywhere, and you’re talking all the time, and sleeping together, and all that. I tried sometimes, to play it off like I was over her, but we both knew it was bullshit. But we kept it up for months. Spent all our time together, pretty much. We started fighting all the time, and for some reason, that’s when I fell in love with her.” I bite my lip sheepishly. My cheeks flushing. It sounds so corny, when you say it out loud.

“Aww.”

I shrug my left shoulder, the right one aching in protest. “And we kept fighting. And I kept telling her that we should reevaluate. That maybe the whole friends with benefits thing wasn’t for us. She knew what I meant, but I don’t think she wanted to break it off. But she didn’t want more, either. So we stuck with it, and we kept fighting. We fought all the time. Our friends – well, they were her friends, really, but they tried to be mine, too – wanted to kill us half the time, I think. But we stayed with it even though it wasn’t working. Because I loved her, and she liked... I don’t know. You know what I mean. But one time, we were fighting over it, and I just screamed it at her. That I loved her. And it sounds really stupid, but it was such an understatement, you know? By then, I was completely crazy about her. I would’ve done anything she asked me to. She... God. I don’t know. But you know what I mean?”

She smiles faintly. “Yeah. I think so.”

“But... I don’t know. Now that I’d said it, she couldn’t really pretend it wasn’t true anymore. So we... She said we weren’t... You know. That we wouldn’t do it anymore. If I couldn’t control my emotions. She was such a guy, I swear.” I bite my lip, nodding slowly. “But yeah. I mean, that wasn’t very long ago. That all this happened. End of November. And then, on the second, December second, Max called me – he was her friend, and mine, the only one that actually put up with me, really. He... He said she had been in an accident. That they found her car. Halfway between here and Mason. She’d veered off the road. Car had flipped over. Caught on fire. It was an ugly accident. She was dead before anyone even drove by.” I say it quickly. I don’t want to think about it. I dropped the phone when he told me. I couldn’t even understand it. I felt like I was shrinking into myself, somehow. Even now, I’m not sure I’ve come all the way back out.

“That sucks.”

I nod. “Yeah. I... She left me a message, I guess. I don’t know what it means. I... I saved it. I... Can you get my phone? It’s on the dresser.”

She climbs off the bed and grabs the phone. Presses the button to turn it on. “Look, Pookie... I’m sorry. I really am. I... That sucks. Really.”

“I want you to hear the message,” I reply. I don’t want to talk about this. I just want her to read it. To tell me what it means. Because I don’t know. I’ve tried to figure it out. But I don’t know.

She looks down at my phone. Her brow furrows. “I... It’s not turning on.”

“What?”

She walks over and shows it to me. “Was it in your pocket? Maybe it got wet.”

“No. That’s... It can’t... No, I need it. Turn it on, Josie.” I haven’t called her that since we were kids. She hates it. “Turn it on. Please.”

She shakes her head. “I tried. It... I’ll try again. Maybe if I take out the thing...” She pries open the back of the phone, pulls out the card, and replaces it. “Let’s see...” She holds down the on button. Nothing happens. No welcome screen. Nothing.

“Josie!”

“Just tell me what it said. It’s okay.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s not. It’s... It’s the last thing she... If it... It’s gone. Oh my god.”

“Pookie...”

“It’s gone.”

“Pookie, calm down.”

“Josie, it’s gone.”

She pulls the phone back and closes it. Her eyes are impossibly sad. “Pookie. Calm down. We don’t know that.”

But I do. I know it. The one thing I have of her. The one thing that was left. And it’s gone. I lost it. And she is gone, too.

*****
Tuesday December 2nd, 8:12 PM

“Hello?”

“Kennedy?”

“Lia?”

“You heard.”

“I... It’s real, then? It... She’s...”

She was crying. Her voice sounded strained. Heavy. “Yeah. She’s... Kennedy, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.”

We hung up the phone quickly, after mumbling strained goodbyes. I stared down at my phone. I had a text message. Probably someone else wanting to tell me. I punched the buttons halfheartedly. Saw her name. My heart broke. Again.

I stared at the ceiling for a moment, then looked down at the screen. Pushed the button. Read it. Closed my eyes. Read it again. And again. Until it was burned into my mind.

i love you. i’m sorry.

I was sure, then. That it had finally caught up to her. The misery. The pain. Those little things, and big things, that she didn’t want to talk about. They’d broken her. Because she never would have sent it if she hadn’t known. Poppy hated to be wrong.

She had done it on purpose. And she had shown us all.