Chapter 29

GOOD-BYE TO THE SWEETEST PERSON I KNOW

I stay with Eggy for a couple of days.

Her parents are very sweet to me, but they’re shy. Which is fine. All I want is to be alone.

Eggy is a great friend. She knows how to be quiet, and she is always ready to download ridiculous movies and episodes of bad reality television. We spend a lot of time eating ice cream and watching people make a mess of their lives and/or remodel their kitchens.

The thing about being incredibly sad is that it’s exhausting. I spend a lot of time sleeping. And standing around in the shower, just letting the hot water run over me until it feels like my skin will peel off.

Whitlock Funeral Parlor takes care of everything funeral related, thank God, because I am completely nonfunctional. Mrs. Morris didn’t have much in her savings, so we skip the rhinestones, and I have to say that the result is very tasteful.

All my friends come to the funeral. Brainzilla cries her guts out from the minute we get to the grave site. I’ve cried so much over the past three days that I feel all dried up, like there aren’t any tears left in me.

My other friends didn’t know Mrs. Morris that well, but they know how important she is… was… to me. We all hold hands as I read the letter I wrote. It’s short. Here it is:

Eggy plays a really beautiful version of “Amazing Grace” on her trumpet. It’s a cold day, but sunny and perfectly clear. An inch or two of snow fell overnight—just enough to cover the ground and make everything brilliant white. The crisp air feels good in my lungs. I don’t cry, and I don’t shatter like glass, though I feel like I might do either at any moment.

Is it right that such a sad day should be so beautiful?