Faster We Burn

slowly, barely opening her swollen eyes. Whereas I couldn’t cry, she seemed to breaking the world record for most tears shed. If only we could make a trade. I’d be happy to be the sobbing wreck if it meant she could hold it together better.
    “Okay.” She didn’t seem to want to move, so I pulled the covers down and got in with her, shoes and all. It was a testament to how upset she was that she didn’t scold me.
    I lay my head on the pillow next to hers.
    “Are you going to be okay here?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask it anyway.
    “No.” Her face collapsed and she started sobbing again. I grabbed one of the many tissue boxes Kayla and I had stashed all over the house.
    “Why did this happen? Why did this happen to us?” I handed her a tissue and put my arm around her.
    “I don’t know. I wish I had a book full of things that I am supposed to say and do, but there isn’t one. If we spend all our time wondering why, then we’ll waste our lives, and Dad wouldn’t want that.” I didn’t know who I was channeling, but it all sounded good, so I went with it. “Dad wouldn’t want you to be sad forever. He was always trying to make you laugh.” Even when it ended up just making her madder. Eventually they would stop fighting and she’d crack a smile.
    She blew her nose and threw the tissue on the floor. Dear God, she really was in a state.
    “You sure it’s okay for me to go back? I could stay with you and Kayla for the rest of the week.”
    She shook her head and wiped her eyes with her hands.
    “No, you have to get back to school. Just because I’ve fallen apart, doesn’t mean you have to.”
    “You haven’t fallen apart, Mom.”
    “Yeah, Katiebug, I have.”
    “Well, you had a good reason to,” I said, using another tissue to wipe her eyes. “You can fall apart all you want. I won’t tell.”
    “Thanks, baby.” She hadn’t called me that in ages.
    I gave her another hug and we lay there for a little longer. We hadn’t always gotten along, but that was going to have to change. She was the only parent I had left, and like it or not, she needed me and I needed her back.
    Trish had driven my car down for the funeral, so I was able to drive my own car back. I said goodbye to Kayla and promised to see her on Saturday and started the drive back to DU.
    I couldn’t find a good radio station, so I picked up my phone and put it on speaker, setting it in a little clip on my dashboard. I should have one of those headsets, but I thought they made people look like assholes, so I’d never gotten one.
    He picked up on the second ring.
    “Hey, I’m driving back and I just thought I would check in with my friend. How are you, friend?”
    He sounded like he was in a room full of people.
    “I’m good, friend. How are you?” The voices faded, as if he was walking away from them.
    “You’re not in class, are you?”
    “No, I was just getting something to eat.”
    “When’s your next class?”
    “Not for a while. I’m all yours, friend.”
    “Well that is good to hear, friend.”
    He went on to tell me about all the things that I’d missed on campus, from someone getting thrown out for setting a couch on fire, to the frat that was on probation, to the professor who’d gotten caught smoking pot on campus with a few students.
    It was all silly and mundane and distracting enough that I could get out of my own head for a few minutes. It was a blessed relief.
    He also filled me in on the crew. Lottie was dying to have me back and had stocked up on ice cream in preparation for lots of Law and Order marathons.
    Trish had almost gotten fired from her job for mouthing off to her boss, Will and Audrey had finally kissed in public and Simon was trying to convince everyone to participate in some sort of charity event that involved running around campus in your underwear.
    “I’m not freezing my junk off, even if it is for charity,” he said as I pictured his junk. It was pretty nice junk, and I wouldn’t like it if anything happened to it, even if I wasn’t going to be using it anytime soon.
    It was all well and good to call ourselves friends over the phone, but in person, I had no idea how it was going to go.
    “How’s your mom?”
    “I guess she’s as good as can be expected. She goes from sobbing to cleaning like the Queen is coming over, then back to sobbing. I’m going back this weekend so Kayla can have a break.”
    “Do you feel guilty?” Stryker always had a way of