Caught (20 page)

Bottom of the 7
th

Quinn

What if I pick out the wrong song? What if it’s too sad? What if it’s not sad enough? When Greg’s parents approached me about singing at his funeral, I didn’t hesitate to answer yes. His mother was trying to be so strong when she said, “Greg was very fond of you, and would always mention how amazing your voice was. We know he’d want you to sing at his funeral.” She’d let out a slight smile before breaking down. Her words gutted me and sent a pang throughout my whole body, but I knew I needed to hold it together as best I could, even though it was killing me inside to do so. I didn’t know what to do besides hug her and tell her I’d be honored.

Now I’m freaking out. I don’t know what to sing. It’s not like I can stick to true Greg fashion and break out some “slapping dat ass and bouncin’ dem titties” type of song he’d walk around trying to rap. I can picture him doing it as clear as day, and the thought makes me smile and cry at the same time.

In true Finley fashion, she hosted a big get together at her parent’s lake house so all of us friends could gather together in memory of Greg. It was a very thoughtful idea, I give her that. But I couldn’t stand sitting inside any longer while everyone was taking a shot with each fond memory shared. I had too much on my mind, and for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t Chace. Sucks that I had to lose a friend for that to happen. But just because he’s not the priority in my mind at the moment doesn’t mean I can take the sight of him and Finley any longer.

I don’t know why I thought anything would be different. But it felt different when he held me tight all night long two nights ago. I just need to chalk it up to two best friends grieving and comforting one another. Not sure what to chalk the rest of our situation up to. Probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

I google every type of song I can think of, mainly sad songs. I make a list in my phone’s note section of the one’s I want to listen to and the one’s I think have potential. Then I open my Spotify and plug my earphones in and start listening to each song, crossing them off faster than I can type the next song in.

“This is fucking hopeless.” I drop my phone onto the wood deck and drop my head into my lap, pushing my hands through my hair. And I let it out.

I. Let. It. All. Out.

Every fucking emotion I’ve been bottling in, pushing down deep inside finally explodes.

And I don’t even try to suppress it.

My body shakes and trembles as I break down. Tears stream down my face, catching on my hands before pooling in the rickety wood below me. A gust of wind rolls in off the lake sending shivers up and down my body right as a blanket is draped across my shoulders. Knowing who is responsible for that simple gesture makes me break down even more. I don’t care that he’s seeing me at my weakest point. I can no longer be the strong girl I portray.  And aren’t the ones we love the most the ones we should be able to let our walls crumble in front of?

Chace sits down behind me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. In this moment I’m experiencing death, love, and heartbreak all rolled into one. This pain I’m feeling might be my downfall. I just pray it doesn’t change me, mold me into some bitter spinster. I want what I’m going through to make me stronger once I make it to the other side. That’s the part I’m unsure of. How do I get there?

Every now and then Chace’s body trembles against mine, and I know he’s releasing the pain, too. I know his isn’t the same as mine though. His is merely for the loss of his friend. Mine is for the loss of my world. Guess my wish of breaking away and no longer being the third wheel is coming to fruition.

Completely cutting off the two people who have stood by my side through thick and thin for so long is going to be the only way I will make it to the other side—the side where I can find me again and find happiness. Or live trying.

“It’s not fair, Chace,” I whisper through my hiccupping cries.

“I know it’s not, Q.” He kisses the top of my head before pulling me in even closer, and I love and hate knowing that he needs me just as much as I do him.  “But death isn’t fair.”

“Love isn’t fair,” I mumble and begin to pull away from him. His grip tightens, and I fight against it willing him to release me. “Let me go.” I pull harder, a little more frantically. “Let me go, Chace.” I begin to shake with anger and frustration. I push against his chest, praying for strength to break away. Doesn’t he get that I just need to get away from him? Doesn’t he get that he’s the cause of the sorrow I’m drowning in? I look up, hoping that my eyes will tell him everything he needs to know. That he’ll be able to see how torn I am. “Please,” I whimper, knowing his grip isn’t going away once I see what I’m feeling staring back at me.

“When will you learn that I’m never going to let you go?” His lips crash to mine with a force I’ve never felt. He’s not making love to my mouth – he’s taking full ownership of it. He’s always had ownership over me. I’ve just been waiting for the time he would finally claim it. 

“Chace, Quinn, you guys out here?” I try to pull away, to break apart our melding lips, but it’s not soon enough. “Oh my god!” Finley gasps. I can barely make out her features in the darkness, but I can see her hands covering her mouth. She starts to back away and Chace begins to stutter. Here comes the moment of truth. The inevitable shift of what’s to come.

“Finley, wait,” he says, releasing his arms from around me. Arms that he just told me would never let me go.

She turns and runs, and Chace watches her, and then looks down at me, conflicted. “Go, Chace.” I push, and without hesitation he takes off in the direction her little frame took off in. And I’m left all alone again with a heart that I just felt harden a bit more.

****

I have one whole day to practice the song I’m singing at Greg’s funeral. One whole day. I’d be freaking out even more if I was still struggling with which song that’s going to be. But like the heaven’s parting, I finally got a break last night as I was driving home and the perfect song came on the radio. Once
Mad World
by Gary Jules began playing, I was entranced. It has this eerie sadness that I can’t get enough of. I immediately text Lewis when I get home, sending him the song and asking if he could play the piano. Should have known that he could. I don’t think there’s an instrument he can’t.

We agreed to meet up at the church today to do a few run-throughs, or as many as we need, to perfect it. Because I won’t settle for less than perfection. Walking up towards the stage, I can’t help but picture a casket there with a lifeless Greg lying inside it. I take a deep breath to calm myself. I don’t need to be getting choked up right now. I owe it to Greg to give this my best. No matter how hard it’s going to be.

“You nailed it with picking this song.” Lewis fingers the keys as he looks up at me from behind the huge grand piano. He glances around, and I know what he’s looking for. “Where’s Finley? Isn’t she singing with you?”

“Umm, it’s up in the air.” I drop my bag, grab the microphone and sit on the top step that leads up to the stage. “I’m ready when you are.”

We spend half the day practicing the song, even though we had it down after three tries. There are plenty of Greg memories being shared, which in return causes a bunch of laughter. The front doors of the church open and someone walks in carrying a huge floral arrangement, bringing me back to reality. I almost feel bad that I was even laughing considering the circumstances. But Greg wouldn’t have it another way.

Lewis, being the polite guy he is, walks me to my car and opens my door. I lean over and give him a friendly kiss on the cheek, causing him to blush a bit.

“Thank you.” I keep my eyes focused on his, making sure he knows this is me being completely serious.

“For what?”

“For being such a good friend. For making me forget everything even though it was only temporary. The escape was nice,” I admit.

“I’m always here for you, Quinn.” He rubs his hand on my shoulder and I smile. “See you in the morning.” And just like that we are both reminded of what lies ahead of us, and our momentary happy masks hit the ground.

For the most part, my parents keep their distance and give me space. They know that when I’m ready to talk or when I need them I will come to them. I really appreciate that about them. I don’t want to be poked and prodded at like a scientific experiment. And they fully respect that. Most parents don’t—most people in general don’t. They think if you aren’t talking it’s disastrous. That’s not the case with me. I just need to work things out on my own. No one telling me what they think I should do, or what they did in a similar past experience is going to fix what I’m going through.

Every person is different even if the situation isn’t. What works for some won’t work for all. Don’t break down life’s mistakes hoping that in return it will keep you from making the same. Because it won’t. It’ll only push you towards them in an attempt of reaching a different outcome than you did.

Which is all easier said than done. I’m pretty sure that when you sleep with your best friend’s boyfriend that happens to be your best friend, there is only one inevitable outcome.

Solitude.

I turn my phone off and grab my iPod. I don’t want to be interrupted, and I don’t want to keep checking my phone, expecting a message from Chace. It’s obvious they’ve worked it all out since Finley’s ignoring me. I was probably made out to be the bad guy, the instigator. But that was Finley. She instigated it all. I pull my headphones on and crank up the volume. Here’s to me needing to cut my losses and praying for sleep.

****

“You look stunning.” My mother moves in behind me as I look at myself in the mirror, hating everything I’ve tried on including my current outfit.

“Not sure it’s a look I should be going for at a funeral,” I mumble, taking in the fitted knee-length black lace dress I’m wearing. I curled my hair in long waves and pinned the top half back, going for a more subtle look. The dark blue heels I slipped on offset that.

My mother grabs my shoulders and turns me to her. “Quinn, you look amazing in anything you wear. This dress makes you look beautiful and remorseful all in one. I know you might be nervous…”

“Nervous, I’m not nervous,” I say quickly, trying to reassure myself that I’m in fact not nervous. Who am I kidding? I’m fucking nervous as hell. But only because of two people that will be in the crowd as I’m up on stage.

“Whatever you say, honey.” My mother rubs my shoulders, calming me down. It’s amazing how a mother’s touch can do that. “Do you need a ride?”

I shake my head. “No. I need to get there early. I’m gonna leave now.”

“Okay, we’ll see you there then.” She pulls me in for a super tight hug and rubs me along my spine. “I love you so much, Quinn.”

“Love you too, mom,” I whisper. 

I drive to the church in silence. Normally I’d have the radio blaring to shut out my thoughts, but now I welcome them. I’ll never be able to sort them out if I don’t start listening to them.

The parking lot is already filling up, as well as the streets being lined with cars. It makes me smile, seeing the outpouring of love and support.

“Oh, Greg, looks like I’m not the only one who loved your chesticles.” 

I make my way to the side door that Lewis had texted me to go in. He wanted us to meet up in the church’s music room located in the lower level of the church. He said we should do one final run through. I think he’s hoping that Finley will show up, but little does he know that I’m the reason she won’t be.

The door is locked and there is no sign of Lewis. So I text him. Not getting an instant reply, I take it upon myself to go see if he’s elsewhere in the church. I don’t want to be seen by everyone who’s showing up early, so I venture up the back staircase.

“I’ve been looking for you,” I hear from behind me, and stop dead in my tracks.

“Why?” Is all I can manage to squeak out. I don’t bother to turn around, because I’m sure whatever is going to be said will be sweet and to the point, and I refuse to show the pain it will cause.

“Because we need to talk.”

I huff. “There’s nothing to talk about. You made your choice, Chace.” I finally turn my head in his direction, hoping my words sting him a little. I shouldn’t be the only one that’s hurt.

“You’re right. I did.” He takes a step closer, and my body stiffens. I don’t understand why he wants to rub it in. I get that he doesn’t feel the same as I do, but does he want to rip me to shreds because of it?

“Exactly. I need to go.” I turn to continue up the stairs, but he lightly grabs my hand. The touch causes chills to run up my arm as our fingers brush against each other.

“You’re my choice.”

My heart stops.

“I choose you, Q.” He grabs my hand again, but with purpose this time.

“But…” I stutter. “You ran after her.” I can’t even say her name out loud.

Chace sighs. “I ran after her because I had to man up. What I’ve been doing hasn’t been fair to her.”

I turn to unleash the Kraken on him, but his smile keeps me from doing so.

“But more importantly, it wasn’t fair to the girl I’m in love with. I was selfish in my ways, and confused. It took me all of this to realize that.” He motions to our surroundings.