Page 8 of Where the Darkness Goes

Fresh out of the shower, I pull on a black dress, a matching cardigan, and heels. I don’t bother with more makeup than a bit of sunscreen and lip gloss. Between the rain and my tears, I know there’s no point. Anything else will just be rinsed off.

While I’m thinking about it, I grab my phone and dial Will.

“Yes, dear?” he says playfully, his voice too chipper.

“Um, yes, hello, I’m looking for the asshole who didn’t tell me he was sending Garrett to pick me up and also forgot to mention that Garrett lives in the house where I’ll be staying while said asshole is away.”

He chuckles. “Speaking.”

I groan. “Seriously, Will? You didn’t think that might be important information for me?”

“Remember when you used to wish for a surprise party for your birthday?”

“This is not a surprise party, and it is not my birthday.”

“It’s a…surprise,” he offers. “What’s the big deal anyway? You guys are fine now, right?”

“Define ‘fine.’”

“Hey, Siri, can you look up the definition?—”

“Will.” I groan his name again, and he laughs.

“Fine. I didn’t tell you. I thought if I did, you’d try staying somewhere else. You’re safer at the house with Garrett.”

“Safer?” The word throws me off guard.

“You know, from dangerous potholes and insistent old biddies who will want to measure the distance from your hemline to your knees.”

“My hemline is just fine, thank you,” I scoff, but I pull my dress down anyway, the thought giving me chills. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Besides.” His voice is serious now. “After Brit’s funeral, I thought you probably wouldn’t want to be alone.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I wish you were here.”

“Me too. I hate that I’m missing it. You’ll give Kristy and Justin my condolences, won’t you? I sent flowers from both of us. If there was any way I could miss work right now, I would, but I’m swamped?—”

“I know,” I cut him off, hating the sound of stress in his tone. It’s so unlike him. “I’ll tell them. They know you wish you were able to be there, don’t worry.”

“Alright. Thanks.”

“I gotta go anyway. Be safe, okay?”

“You too. Don’t give Garrett too much hell, okay?”

“Only the smallest amounts I can muster.”

I end the call and quickly style my loose waves with mousse. I put a clip in on one side to help tame the waves, looking myself over in the mirror. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe she’s gone. My best friend for most of my life is just…gone. It’s not fair, and I hate it. We were supposed to have so much longer. We were supposed to grow old and gray, and live in a beach house together, reminiscing about the good old days and complaining about our sore hips and the price of stamps. In the blink of an eye, every plan we ever made has been ripped away.

Just as I step out into the hallway, it hits me again that I don’t have a car.

I’ll have to call someone to take me to the funeral and forget about visiting Mom for the day. Just until my car is fixed.

How long will that take anyway? I should’ve asked.

As I run through a roster of people in my head who I’m still on friendly enough terms to ask such a favor, Garrett’s door opens, and he steps out, dressed in black jeans and a matching button-down shirt. His fingers work quickly to fasten the top button.

“Look at that. Tessa Becker is actually on time.” He beams.

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