Free Losing Her by Mariah Dietz Page B

to eat his toast and popcorn both burnt.
    “Not once did I ever hear my dad say a bad word, in any language that he fluently spoke.
    “My dad and I secretly joined a soap box league when I was nine.” I hear Savannah whisper to Jenny, asking if she had known this, and listen to her quietly hiss a no.
    “He called our mother ma moitié, his other half.
    “I have a jar of pennies from my dad for each time something bothered me, and he’d silently slide one to me.
    “He could consume two milkshakes in less than thirty minutes, and has his face on the wall of Maggie Lou’s to prove it.” She takes an audible breath and lifts a hand and I see a small remote in her palm.
    “My dad was one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met, but he made one request for this day …” I watch her grimace. “His last words of wisdom to us all.”
    She drops her arm to her side, and I know it’s because she can’t physically keep it up anymore as the quiet sounds of Let it Be, stream through the speakers. All around people laugh through their tears at the song we all seem to associate with David.
    It’s not surprising that Ace disappears again after the burial. I can’t blame her. Watching the last of the soil pile on the casket has an adverse effect upon us all. I want to scream, and cry, and punch someone, all at the same time. Nothing about this is fair. My mom drives me home, and I feel like I’m twelve rather than twenty-three.
    My fear is like a living thing, trapped inside of me, feeding off of what I had once felt so secure about—my relationship with her.

I’ d managed to bring Jameson to that party at Karli Lincoln’s by assuring him Kendall would be there. Working to convince myself that the only reason I mentioned it was to help out a friend and be a good wingman. I think he knew I was lying, but it had been hard to tell; he was pretty infatuated with your older sister.
    The party was not my scene. At least three-quarters of that crowd annoyed the hell out of me, but there I was. Do you remember Megan Vetter? If you don’t, I’m sure you would if you heard her hyena laugh. It made me realize I was underestimating the percentage of people I could stand. I feared you liked those people and the mind numbing conversations they shared.
    Jameson followed me into the kitchen where a large bar was set up. I immediately looked over the different shaped and colored bottles to see what they had to offer. You know me, if I had to endure people like that before you, I needed the alcohol to help my nerves. It never managed to help me in the same way you do. You are my calm. Just seeing your smile relaxes every nerve in my body and allows my lungs to expand. A chick had obviously set the bar up. Only girls worry about making sure everyone is going to be able to find something that appeals to them.
    I poured two shots and handed one to Jameson before throwing mine back, enjoying the quick burn of the whiskey that made Jameson glare at me. He still hated that shit, like you do.
    “Max Miller?”
    I turned, hearing the high-chiming voice of Heather Rodgers and saw her trademark long blond hair. She was wearing a short white dress that stuck to her like a sticker. I know you say you watched me a lot in high school, and I hate that you thought I actually messed around with all of those chicks. I don’t think many of them even had a sincere interest in me, not like you. Those girls just wanted to piss someone off, or have meaningless sex, something I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to do again. Heather had pursued me a good portion of my junior year. I had avoided her at all cost because she played soccer with you when you made JV your freshman year, the year I started noticing too much about you. She was always a pretty girl for the most part. I’m sure you’d say she was gorgeous. You’re like your dad, and see the good in everyone. Her big blue eyes that were a little wide set, and white smile greeted me, and all I