Close To The Dangerous Bad Boy novel Chapter 74

I didn't feel better. Well, at least not the way I though I will. I felt stronger, and more myself than ever, but...I didn't feel like the winner. Not today. Today I was a loser. We all were.

"Skye." I saw Lucas standing in front the school entrance, holding a phone in his hand.

He was so hurt. I saw the pain in his eyes. The sorrow. The despair. The heartache.

He took my hand into his ever so gently, lifting it up to his face and whispering like he was blowing a kiss: "What happened?"

He didn't know May personally, but I knew he was sad for Jimmy. For his best friend. After all, who would know the pain of losing someone better than Lucas?

I ripped my bleeding hand away from his and wrapped my arms around him. I squeezed tight, as if I were afraid his soul might escape his body if I didn't.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered.

"Me too." He said as a few droplets of my scarlet blood slid down his black leather jacket.

Some are bound to die young. By dying young person stays young in people's memory. If she burns brightly before she dies, her brightness shines for all time.

It was a cold, sunny day. You know, like one of those winter days with a little bit of sun, but not enough to keep you warm. There was no wind, no clouds, no rain, just...melancholy. I felt it in the air, in the people...In Lucas.

But I didn't feel it. I didn't feel the sorrow...I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel the sadness for the ashes of the girl that died. I didn't knew her. And yet...

And yet I knew exactly who she was. She was me. It could've been me. So easily.

The woman in the coat, hardly standing on her feet, that could've been my mother. Well, she probably wouldn't cry as much, but I'm sure she'd feel something.

The man next to her looked like he would never cry. And yet he did. Old age furrowed his face, making the path of the tears unreliable.

And then there was Jimmy. He stood there, holding Cookie, who was weeping inconsolably. He tried not to cry, but I saw tears in his blue eyes.

They were her family, standing in front of everybody. They were the ones holding her picture, a picture of a girl with a pretty smile, they were the ones guarding her urn.

And yet their grief did not struck me.

I don't know why, maybe because I wasn't quite there yet, perhaps because I met her once...I was holding Lucas's hand, feeling its dead weight. He didn't knew her either, but I could see grief in his eyes. The pain. The pain that he felt for his best friend. For his loss.

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