I take a step closer to her, noticing a smattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose. “I heard someone talking. That was you?”
She seems cautious, like she’s unsure whether or not to answer. Her eyes search mine.
I should turn back to Kim’s grave, the whole reason I’m here, but instead words come tumbling out of my mouth. “Once upon a time, right?”
Her eyes lock on mine, and the five words hang between us.
She pushes her hair behind her ear, face flushing. “I… tell stories,” she says as she lightly touches one of the pink flowers.
“Stories? Like… fairy tales?”
“Yes,” she replies, looking back up at me with a small, pleased smile. “Just like fairy tales.”
“That’s cool,” I say as I stop across from her, the pink flowers between us. The toe of one of her yellow Converse traces a small circle in the dirt. When she doesn’t say anything else, I start to talk again.
“What’s your name?” I ask, but her voice overlaps mine, asking, “Does your head hurt?”
My head? I reach for my scar. I thought my long hair was covering it.
I trace my fingers along it. The pain still lingers, but it’s more distant now. “How did you—”
“Marley,” she says, our words overlapping yet again. “My name is Marley.”
Marley. The name’s not familiar, but her face is.
“I’m Kyle,” I say, trying to keep us on one track of conversation instead of two. “Kyle Lafferty.”
She nods and studies my face for a long moment before saying, “Food helps. With headaches.” My gaze lingers unconsciously on her mouth, her lips delicate and pink, curved up at the corners like two rose petals. “Maybe you should eat? It’s lunchtime,” she continues.
A quick, sharp pain darts across my temple, gone before I can even reach up to touch it.
“Do you… want to get lunch?” she asks.
“Oh,” I say, finally catching on. My stomach sinks. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here for Kim. I shake my head and start to turn away from her. “No. Uh, I should go—”
“But you’re hungry,” she counters.
I open my mouth to object, and as if on cue, my stomach lets out a long, low growl. Perfect. Marley smothers a smile. I have to fight the urge to smile back as a laugh tries to make its way out. It’s such a foreign reaction to me right now, to laugh. But it feels… good.
And she’s right. I am hungry. But… going with her to get lunch would mean leaving before I finish talking to Kim. Even though I have no idea what to say, it doesn’t feel right to do anything else.
So if I can’t do that, I should probably just go home.
“Thanks, but I really can’t,” I say, limping past her down the path as I head toward the gates, defeated.
“Oh. You’re leaving,” she says. Something in her voice makes me turn back around.
I’m more than ready to start my long walk home, but she pushes her hair behind her ear, her hazel eyes expectant.
Keep walking.
I want to, but I feel rooted here, my feet completely disobeying my mind.
Marley takes a step closer to me, but when I don’t say anything, she stuffs her hands in her pockets and looks away.
Maybe she’s lonely? A graveyard isn’t exactly a cool place to hang at lunchtime.
I guess I can relate to that. My social life for the last three months has been hanging out with my mom. Sometimes Sam, more recently, but mostly my mom. Probably not the most normal thing an eighteen-year-old guy could be doing, but I don’t even know how to be normal anymore.
I glance at her again. I mean, it’s just lunch. I was going to go home and eat some cereal or something anyway.
She gives me a small smile, as if she knows what I’m thinking. “So…，” she prompts.
“Let’s get lunch?” I ask.
The wattage of her grin could power nine suns. Her eyes seem brighter, the hazel color bolder. More vibrant. Greener.
It’s contagious. Suddenly I’m smiling too. My first real smile in months. It feels good to make someone happy for a change.
“I would like that very much,” she says, and the two of us head down the path together, toward the big iron gates. I hesitate, looking back at Kimberly’s grave as we leave. I don’t know what I expected would happen, but this is definitely not it. I promise her I’ll come back, that I’ll know what to say next time, but her voice stays silent.
9