around with a couple of stupid brats.”
“Really?” he asked, seeming genuinely surprised.
“Really.”
“Wow. I was a jerk.” His eyes were full of humor.
I laughed. “Pretty much,” I agreed. “But thankfully you grew out of it. There’s not an ounce of jerk in you now.”
The light in his eyes faded immediately. Clenching his jaw, he stared back at the pond. “You’re wrong. I’m a bigger jerk than I ever was.”
Clearly he was struggling; and I wasn’t sure how to help him if he didn’t want to tell me about it. I didn’t want to push him, either.
“Don’t talk like that, Caleb.” I rested my hand lightly on his shoulder. “You’re not a jerk. You’ve done so much for so many people. I can’t even think of even one person better than you.” It was the truth. He was amazing.
He snorted, turning to glance at me. “You only need to look in a mirror to see someone far better than I am. Don’t ever change, Anna.” Before I could let his words sink in and muster a reply, he removed the lid of the urn and stepped so close to the water that the soles of his shoes sank down in the mud. “You ready to do this?” he asked, gesturing with a nod for me to join him.
“No,” I replied honestly, releasing a deep sigh, but moved beside him anyway. He held the urn slightly toward me and I slipped my hands over his.
“Anything you want to say first?” he asked, swallowing thickly.
I shook my head. “No t really. I think I’ve pretty much cried my heart out to her every night already. If she can hear me, then she knows how much I’ll always love her.”
He nodded, tipping his hands, and the two of us began pouring her ashes into the water. I couldn’t help the silent tears as I watched the remains of my best friend drifting down, floating further across the surface of the pond, forever mixing with this one spot for the rest of eternity.
When the last of her remains had been spread, I released the urn and stepped away to give Caleb a moment of privacy, in case he wanted to say his own goodbyes. Unmoving, he stood there for a long time, solemnly watching her ashes float away. Even though he was several feet from me, his words still carried through the air, soft and powerful. “I’ll always love you, Jessi; and yes, I’m at fault here too. But honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you for this.”
He was angry—hurt—it was easy to see. So was I for that matter. If only she’d come to us, we might have been able to help her with whatever was wrong ; but now there was no repairing the damage. Suicide was a permanent solution to a temporary problem, as far as I was concerned. Surely nothing could be so terrible that there wasn’t some way to overcome it. How could Jessi not have known that? What in heaven’s name could’ve been so awful she thought being dead, and destroying us in the process, was the only answer? I’d racked my brain with this very question so many times I was almost nauseated from it. I couldn’t understand how I missed something so crucial.
Caleb recapped the urn, surprising me by tucking it down into a thick patch of ferns at the water’s edge. He didn’t linger a moment longer, but headed past me, without a word, down the trail toward the Jeep.
“Wait!” I called after him, unable to let his final words to her rest. “I need to say something.”
He stopped, turning slowly. “What?” Yes, there was clearly anger there—in his voice—in his eyes.
I fidgeted with my hoodie, nervous under his scrutiny. “You can’t blame yourself for this. None of us will ever know why she did what she did, but it’s no one’s fault—definitely not yours. She could’ve come to any of us for help and she chose not to.”
He looked away, his hands clenching into fists. “Just drop it, okay, Anna? You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His response puzzled me. “Do you know something I don’t?”
That muscled was ticking in his jaw