Wait. We would?
I didnotlike the sound of that. Speaking words aloud was not my specialty.
But thankfully, I wasn’t the only one who was concerned. The silent kid in the black turtleneck who’d followed Green Shirt around like he was his shadow, flew up from his chair and shook his head aggressively. But when he turned to leave, his green-shirted friend grabbed his arm, drawing him back patiently.
“But we don’thaveto talk if we don’t want to yet, right?” Green Shirt asked Matt with a prodding nod.
“Oh, sure. Of course, you don’t,” Matt answered quickly. “I only want you to open up if you feel comfortable doing so. No pressure to say anything you don’t want to.”
I exhaled in relief, and the green-shirted boy was finally able to coax Turtleneck back down into his chair with an encouraging nod. “Good,” he told Matt. “Because Parker here hasn’t spoken a word out loud since his parents died.”
I winced. Butbothparents? Wow, that had to suck.
“Of course, of course,” Matt was repeating in reassurance. “I totally understand. No more explanation is necessary. Though I was hoping we could all go around and at least give our names, and then if you feel okay with sharing, let us know who you lost in your life.”
Pointing at Turtleneck, Green Shirt spoke up again, “Okay, then. Well, this is Parker Ohrley. And he lost both of his parents in a car accident last month.”
When he lifted his eyebrows at Matt for confirmation, Matt nodded and then splayed out his hand in greeting. “Alright, thank you. And welcome, Parker. We’re glad to have you.” Then he shifted his attention to Green Shirt. “Wouldyoulike to go next?”
“Oh!” Green Shirt straightened as if he’d been goosed. “No. I’m just here for Parker. To be his mouth and talk and stuff. We’re best friends who’ve lived next door to each other our whole lives. He’s been staying with us since it happened. But I didn’t lose anyone, sorry.”
“No, that’s okay. That’s just fine,” Matt answered, nodding with encouragement. “We appreciate you being here for Parker. Would you like to share your name, anyway, though?”
“Yeah, sure, I guess.” Green Shirt gave a rueful smile and waved to the rest of us. “I’m Thane. Thane Eisner.”
“Welcome, Thane,” Matt greeted. “And what about you?” he asked next, motioning toward Blondie.
“Me? I, uh, I’m… My name is Foster Union,” he said, glancing around the circle hesitantly. “And I lost my…” Ducking his chin, he took a breath before shakily admitting, “My little brother.”
When his voice broke, my throat constricted, and a fine mist of tears coated my lashes. I wasn’t sure if I could sit here and listen to this. I already felt sad enough for myself. Heaping everyone else’s grief on top of that felt too big. I wouldn’t be able to handle it.
But they kept going, saying their names and who they’d lost.
“Keene Dugger. My mom.”
“Alec Younger. Dad.”
“Hudson Ivey. My best friend, Brett.”
And then it was my turn. I hated talking. I hated admitting how I was feeling. I hated all of this. It was so freaking embarrassing. But everyone was looking at me, which was even more mortifying because my throat had closed over, and I couldn’t speak.
“And you?” Matt said with an emboldening smile. “What’s your name?”
I cleared my throat. It was just my name. I could say my name.
“Damien,” I mumbled, my voice wobbly and probably too low for anyone to actually hear. So I tried again. “Damien Archer.”
“Well, hello to you, Damien,” Matt greeted. “We’re happy you’re here with us today. Would you like to tell us who you lost?”
1
OAKLYNN
“I’m not saying Iwantyou to go. I love having you around—I really do—you’re like a sister to me,” Jaylani promised as she clasped her hands together and sent me a fake, begging smile. “But…”
With a groan, I threw my head back to wince up at the clouds before finishing the question for her. “But when the hell am I going to get off your couch and finally find a place of my own already, huh?”
“Seriously, it’s beenthreeweeks,” my best friend shrieked, clutching her French coils in agitation. “I mean, come on, O! You said you’d be gone within a couple of days, tops.”