“He’s your friend, and he’s going to need you today. Even if he doesn’t know that yet.”
Jake is more than a friend, but I don’t say that. He’s always been more than just a friend. Right now, I need to show him that I’m not going anywhere. I know he doesn’t want me around, that he thinks it’s not safe for me to be close to him, but I don’t care. I want to be there for him.
Not that the asshole deserves it…
I shake that thought from my mind. I’m not here to relive the past. I’m here to support someone I love during one of the worst times in their life. I know what it’s like to lose a parent. The death of my mother was bittersweet, because although I lost one parent, I gained another two. My dad and Antonia. If my mother wasn’t sick, I doubt I ever would have met my dad. Not when I was a child anyway.
“You okay?” my dad asks.
“Yeah, it’s just… funerals are always so sad.” I sigh.
“They do tend to have that ambience,” Dad agrees.
I smirk, hiding the smile that wants to appear on my face. “Not the place for jokes.”
“Right. You go. I’ll be right here.” Dad sits in one of the first open pews when we enter.
My legs wobble as I continue down the aisle. The service hasn’t started yet. I can see the back of Jake’s head in the front row. As if he can sense me, he turns and his eyes connect with mine. I don’t stop until I’m sitting in the open spot beside him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks me.
“My best friend’s parents’ funeral? Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” I reach over and entwine my fingers with his. Resting our now-joined hands on my leg.
“You shouldn’t be sitting with me,” Jake whispers.
“Too bad. I’m not sitting anywhere else.”
His hand squeezes mine. His eyes are watery. I know this isn’t easy for him.
“I don’t want to make this day harder for you, Jacob. I just want to be here for you. Because I know if it were me, you’d do the same.”
“I’m an asshole. You cannot count on me to be there for you, Jazzy. I’ve already proven that,” he states.
“I know, but we all do stupid shit when we’re young. We’re moving on.”I’m moving on. Trying to, at least. I will find a way to get over the hurt and embarrassment. Because what we shared in that panic room wasn’t just sex, and I know Jake feels it too.
“You have always been too good for me.” Jake untangles his hand from mine. Then he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him. His lips press against the side of my forehead. “Want to sneak off to the confessional?”
“Jacob Westmead, you are not seriously suggesting that we… you know. Here. Now,” I gasp.
“This service fucking sucks and it hasn’t even started. I’m tired of everyone telling me how fucking sorry they are. None of these assholes cared about my parents,” he says.
“I cared about them.”
“You care about everyone,” he counters.
He’s not wrong. I do tend to care about people easily. I never want anyone to hurt. Well, not most people. “That’s not true. I don’t care about the people who did this to them.”
“Thank you for coming,” Jake says. “You really shouldn’t have. You’re not supposed to be seen with me.”
“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t show up?” I ask him.
“The kind I deserve.”
“True. But lucky for you, I’m not an asshole. So you’re stuck with me now.” I try to smile. “You know I’ll be here, for whatever you need.”
“What I need right now is you, in that confessional, without any panties on,” he whispers in my ear.
“My dad is in the back row watching us, by the way,” I tell him.