Page 1 of Back to You
Chapter 1
Today was the day.
Two-and-a-half years of suffering through round after round of chemo, violently puking her guts out because the meds that would supposedly kill the cancer were slowly killing her, too. Two-and-a-half years of pissing the bed due to the ascites fluid that built up in her gut and turned her into a goddamn marshmallow.
Two-and-a-half years of hair falling out in ugly clumps, sallow skin and sunken eyes. Exhaustion, sleepless nights, hearing loss, and so many tears—and it all came down to this: A cheap-ass coffin being lowered into a hole six feet deep while her loved ones stood in the rain, saying one final goodbye to Temperance Joliet.
I stared down at the grave, numb to everything but the fist gripping my heart in a vice. Behind me, Mrs. Fisher sniffled and patted my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Hollister. If there’s anything I can do to help you, sweetie, just let me know.”
I swallowed around the knot in my throat, but I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? A shrug and a nod would have to do. I felt empty. I’d been split open down the center and gutted like a fish. Everything that used to fill my fleshy carcass had been dumped in a pile of rotting entrails on the soggy ground.
Still, I didn’t cry. Not when Mrs. Fisher came up behind me and hugged me. Not when Violet dabbed her eyes with a wadded up tissue before offering a watery smile, or when Dane squeezed my shoulder with an apology of his own.
No. I stared down at the casket and tried to wrap my head around the cold, hard truth. Mom was dead. The one person who’d ever mattered in my shitty life was gone. I was alone and, ironically, the only thing that was keeping me from losing my shit and having a full-blown panic attack was the fact that there was a fresh pack of razorblades back home with my name on it.
It was time. Wasn’t that the plan, all along? I was so damntired.
The sky opened up with a murmur of thunder. Rain began to pelt the ground, kicking up mud onto my once-shiny black dress shoes. Violet squealed and dove beneath the cover of her mother’s umbrella. Dane wrapped his strong arm around my shoulders and gently guided me away from the grave.
Away from Mom.
I exhaled sharply and shook my head. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I might never be ready, but I knew it was over. I’d held her hand as she took her last stuttering breaths in the throes of death. I’d been there with her through it all, and now I was alone, and it hurt more than I could’ve ever imagined.
“Come on, Hols,” Dane murmured.
I closed my eyes on a small nod and, as the rain dripped onto my face, I could pretend I wasn’t crying. The saltwater on my chapped lips told me otherwise. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Swamped with exhaustion, I leaned into Dane’s embrace and let him take me away from it all.
“You okay?” That was the stupidest question I’d ever heard.
I nodded anyway. “Yeah. Just… In shock, I guess.”
“Let’s get out of the rain. Did you drive? I didn’t see your ugly orange eyesore in the lot.” He cracked a grin, but I wasn’t feeling it.
“No.” I’d needed the fresh air, so I’d walked across town in my dress shirt and black slacks. Of course, it hadn’t been raining then. Together, we ducked beneath the gray and white canopy outside of the church, out of the rain. My socks squelched in my ruined shoes. My feet were like ice, but it didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter.
Dane shrugged. “No prob. We can take you home.”
“I’d rather walk,” I retorted, then realized how rude that sounded. “Not trying to be a dick. Sorry.”
“Hollister, it’s pouring. Mom doesn’t mind. Hell, it was her idea.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re gonna get soaked.”
“Already soaked. Doesn’t matter. I need…” My voice cracked. I sucked down a gulp of air and tried again. “I need to be alone right now. I’m sorry. I’m really… I just need to be able to think straight, you know? I’ll be okay. You don’t have to worry about me.” The lie of the century, but what Dane didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, at least not until it was too late. I forced a smile. “I promise.”
He chewed on the silver hoop pierced through his lower lip. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Thank you, though. You’re too good to me.”
Dane smiled and squeezed me in a tight side-hug. “You’re my best friend. Of course I’m good to you. Okay. Text me when you get home so I know you didn’t drown walking in this crap. It’s really coming down in buckets.” He peered out from beneath the canopy.
It truly was.
Mrs. Fisher pulled up in her blue minivan and honked the horn. Dane hesitated, but I waved him off. “Text me,” he called before jogging through the downpour to pile into the backseat of the van. I knew Mrs. Fisher would argue her case, but I didn’t give her the chance. Sticking my hands deep into the soggy pockets of my slacks, I started for home.
