or hate him, Thomas had been a classmate. One of them. They had known him for years. So of course they would be shocked and freaked. I was just surprised at how freaked.
My strained eyes fell on Missy Thurber--big nostrils, bigger attitude--leaning back against the tastefully papered wall in her chic black suit, her nose all red from crying. At her side, as always, was Lorna Gross, whispering in her ear, looking very somber. I suddenly wanted to hurl something at them from across the room. Where the hell did they get off pretending to mourn? Neither of them had ever spoken to Thomas in their lives.
Between them and Taylor and Kiran's continued rantings, I was beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic. Then I saw Constance Talbot, my former roommate, making her way across the room toward me. The last time I had seen Constance she had told me off with tears in her eyes for dating the guy of her dreams, Walt Whittaker. Walt Whittaker, who was here somewhere, chatting up a few members of the older generation, as usual. Whit and I were definitely no longer an item (not that we'd ever really been one), but I had no idea whether or not Constance knew this or not.
I stood up straight as she stepped up to me, my whole body tense. Constance met my gaze, then threw her arms around me.
"Reed! I am so, so, so, so sorry!" she said over my shoulder.
I was so surprised, it took me a moment to respond. But then I hugged her back. Hard. In a million years I never would have been able to predict the relief that rushed through me at her gesture of
6
friendship. Apparently Constance was a lot more important to me than I'd realized.
"Thanks," I said as she pulled away.
Her green eyes were bright and red-rimmed, her wavy, dark- red hair held back in a simple ponytail. It was hard to tell if she was paler than usual or if it was the lighting, but somehow the freckles on her nose stood out more today, making her look almost precious.
"Are you okay?" she asked me, biting her lip.
"Yeah, I guess. I don't know," I said. A bubbly sob rose up into my throat and I swallowed it back. "It's all just a little surreal."
Surreal didn't even begin to describe it, but it was the only word I could come up with. Every other second I experienced a new and intense emotion. Just forty-eight hours ago I had been on a train back to Easton
from the city, telling Josh--Thomas's roommate--that I was over Thomas. That I was moving on. And I had felt really good about that decision. Thomas, after all, had disappeared from school without warning. Without a goodbye. I had found that note from him days later, but it had raised more questions than it had answered. And for weeks he hadn't bothered to get in touch with me, even to let me know that he was all right. I had decided that a guy like that was not worth my time. That I deserved better.
But now I had found out that the reason Thomas had been incommunicado was that he was dead. And every time I thought about how indignant and angry and self-righteous I'd been over
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the past few weeks, I felt this soul-sucking guilt unlike anything I had ever felt before.
"It must make it harder, not knowing how he died," Constance said. She turned around to stand next to me and survey the room.
"You bet your ass it is," Kiran said, a bit too loudly. She grabbed another wineglass from a passing waiter and drained half of it.
"Kiran, keep your voice down," Ariana said.
"What? I'm just saying I'd like to know, you know, exactly how they think it happened, that's all," Kiran ranted. "Wouldn't it make you feel better to just know, once and for all, what they're thinking? If they have any theories? "
"You're rambling," Ariana said, taking the glass right out of Kiran's hands and placing it on the mantel, out of reach. Kiran looked after it longingly.
"I wonder if his parents know," Noelle said, narrowing her eyes as the golden-haired Mrs. Pearson strode into the room to whisper in the ear of the caterer. "They'd have to tell the parents, right?"
No one spoke. It wasn't as if we knew the inner workings of the justice system.
"Look at them," Kiran said, lifting her chin toward Mrs. Pearson, who had now been joined by her silver-haired husband. She snapped at a waiter and procured a fresh glass of wine. Ariana rolled her eyes. "They're just chatting like this is some charity function. When I go, I hope my parents don't look that poised."
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"Kiran! Oh my God!" Taylor said, her quivering jaw dropping.
"What? I'm just saying," Kiran replied, rolling her eyes.
"Talk about morbid," Noelle said.
I watched as Mrs. Pearson chuckled and laid her hand gently on the arm of one of their friends. Mr. Pearson checked his watch and glanced around as if looking to see if there was anyone more interesting to talk to. Suddenly, my heart started to flutter in this insane way. Away that made my breath catch and my skin sear.