Life could try and drag me back into the game all it liked, but I was out.

As I sat in the afternoon traffic with tears streaming down my face, I kept my hands firmly on the steering wheel and let them fall. Jeremy was always telling me to let it all hang out, to not hide myself from the world, so I was only honouring him by not giving a shit how bad I looked. And yet, as we sat bumper to bumper, not moving, I was sure the driver in the next car must have been looking at me, judging me. I glanced in his direction to find him engrossed with his phone. I stared for a couple of minutes but he never gave me the time of day.

Nobody cares, Evie.

Not me, not him, and not the driver that killed Jeremy.

I sagged against the steering wheel as the pain sliced through me.

Again.

It had been nearly a week and the pain was as intense as it had been the day he died. But I knew from experience the pain would never go away. Eventually, I’d numb myself to it, but still, I’d carry it with me to my grave. Jeremy and I were entwined so deeply that some days I hadn’t known where he ended and I began. We’d been a part of each other’s lives since we were ten.

Since Kick brought him home from school and declared him a part of us now.

Shit.

And that was the kicker.

Now I’d lost both of them.

***

It took me twice as long to get home from work than usual due to the horrendous traffic. As I pulled into my driveway, I saw my best friend, Maree, sitting on my front step. She hadn’t left me alone since Jeremy’s death, and I was at the point where I needed some space. I loved her dearly but she never knew when to back off.

Sighing, I grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and gave myself a quick onceover in the mirror. Shit, I looked awful. My mascara wasn’t waterproof after all, and I had black streaks running down my face. Add to that, my foundation had worn off in the heat of the day and my long, brunette hair had frizzed in the humidity, and I looked like a woman you would possibly cross the road to avoid.

Maree came towards me as I stepped out of the car. “You look like you need a girl’s night in,” she said, assessing me.

Maree was the kind of woman who never stepped foot outside her house unless she was immaculately presented. Even after a long day at her teaching job, with teenagers harassing her, she still looked good. Makeup still perfect, blonde hair swept up into a ponytail, black dress almost wrinkle free and heels not even affecting her feet. “I hate you, Maree,” I muttered, taking it all in.

She raised a perfect eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because you always look good and it’s not fair,” I answered as I walked past her to the front door of my house.

She followed close behind me. “Evie, have you taken a look in the mirror lately? You could wear a goddamn sack and look hot. Without even doing your hair or makeup. I have to spend hours in front of the mirror to achieve what you wake up with.”

I turned to look at her and frowned. “What I wake up with? Bed head and a puffy face?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, sex appeal. You can’t fake that shit, and you were lucky to be born with it. Even standing here with your messy hair, non-existent makeup, and fucking mascara all over your face, you still look sexy. Any guy would pick you over me any day.”

She was wrong, but I didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, I hadn’t been laid in six months so I didn’t know where all these men were who she thought would be interested in me. “I still hate you,” I said, and resumed my journey to the front door. My thoughts had shifted now to how I was going to break it to her that I needed a night off rather than a girl’s night in. Maree wasn’t one to give up easily when she was on a mission. And her mission at the moment was to get me through my grief. What she didn’t seem to understand was that time spent with her wasn’t going to take away my sadness.

As I unlocked the door and entered my house, I could hear her rambling on about her day. Her words drifted in and out as I trudged down my long hall to the kitchen at the back of the house. I caught snippets of ‘those kids will be the death of me’ and ‘it’s only February and I already need a holiday’. But mostly, I was lost in a fog where her words floated in my mind alongside images of Jeremy. Laughing, being a dickhead, dancing...all the fun we’d had over the years had replayed over and over in my mind this week. Like a movie. A movie I couldn’t switch off.

“Evie! Are you listening to me?”

Her shrill tone snapped me back to the moment. “What?”

She dumped her bag on my cluttered kitchen counter, and my attention drifted to the mess. I never let my house go like this, but this week I just couldn’t have given a shit about it, and it showed. Dishes were piled next to the sink, unopened mail lay scattered on the counter, and other junk had accumulated that I didn’t have the energy to sort out.

“Evie!”

I blinked and gave my attention back to her. Pulling out a seat at the kitchen table, I sighed and collapsed onto it. Looking up at her, I said, “Sorry, I’m not with it this afternoon.”

I’m with Jeremy.

I wish I was with Jeremy.

She sat with me, her face full of sympathy and concern. “I know, but you need to get yourself together because the funeral is tomorrow.”

All of the grief and anger I had churning in me spewed out and I was helpless to stop it. “I don’t have to get myself together, Maree. Fuck that. I’ll go to the damn funeral but I’m only doing that for Jeremy, and he wouldn’t have given a shit if I was the crazy lady at the funeral who howled her way through it and let her fucking mascara drip all over the seat. In fact, he’d want me to be the crazy lady. He was always telling me to let myself go and just feel. Well, fuck it, after all this time, I’m not going to give a fuck about appearances. I’m going to feel it all, and if anyone doesn’t like the way I deal, they can go screw themselves.”