Perfect (56 page)

loved Conner, and not because he scored

touchdowns or got straight As. We loved

who he was when he let his guard down
.

When he let us see who he wanted to be
,

free of expectations. The real Conner
.

We thought he was stronger than it turned

out he was because he saved us both
,

more than once, and in different

ways. I will never forget him
.

What I want to tell you is what

I think he would tell you, if he could
.

Living means taking chances. Risks
.

Playing safe all the time is being dead

inside, even if you happen to still be

breathing. People expected Conner

to play it safe all the time. And when

he did, he felt dead inside. I saw him

take risks, and then he was the most

alive person I’ve ever known. He would

ask
you
to take chances. Sometimes

that means getting hurt. Getting an F
.

Losing a game. Losing someone you

love. But if you always play it safe
,

you lose anyway
. Tony turns, goes

over to the casket, bends and kisses

Conner.
Fuck you, dude. You should

have hung around. Proved ’em wrong
.

He Turns Back, Crying

Which is fine, because everyone here

is crying. Even Mom. She makes no

sound, but her eyes glisten, and I think

Tony has given her permission to break

all the way down later. He gestures to

Vanessa to come say good-bye. Protocol

might dictate Conner’s family go forward

first. But I think Tony and Vanessa are

Conner’s family. Probably better family

than the rest of us. Dani whispers,
Thanks

for taking a chance with me
. She kisses me,

in front of everybody. And I’m good with it.

Kendra

Chance

Brought us

together.

Tattered us

twisted us

wrenched us

wide apart.

But it wasn’t

chance that

ended you

took you

away from

me forever.

People Move Forward

To say their good-byes. But I’m afraid.

Afraid to see what’s left of Conner.

Afraid I’ll see too much. Too little.

Afraid that what I see will convince me

it’s not Conner at all. From here,

the thing in the coffin looks like it’s made

of wax. A fake Conner, meant to fool

us into believing he’s dead. Maybe he’s not

dead at all. Maybe this is just some

crazy scheme he came up with so he could

get away. From school. From football.

From his family. From me. Maybe he’s living

large with Emily Sanders somewhere.

Oh my God. What’s the matter with me?

Of course he’s dead. Look at his parents.

At Cara. At those two—Tony and Vanessa.

He has leveled them. Shredded them.

I would say he got the final laugh, but

would he laugh, knowing what he’s done

to them? Knowing what he’s done to me?

Kendra,
says Mom.
Don’t you want

to say good-bye?
She stands, takes

my hand, coaxes me to my feet. I let

her lead me forward. My head is light.

I haven’t eaten a bite since I got

the news. Death as a weight-loss tool.

Wonder if I could market that.

The thought makes me laugh. Mom

gives me a sideways glance. But all

it takes to sober me completely is reaching

the casket. I’ve never seen Conner

in a suit. That alone makes him look

a lot like a mannequin. A suit is so not

Conner. I’d rather remember him naked.

Next to me. Under the trees. On a blanket

of pine needles. The memory catches in

my throat. Did he ever think about

that afternoon? Can he think about it now?

“Where are you, Conner?” I whisper.

“Can you hear me? Can you remember,

wherever you are? Will you remember

me, the way I will always remember you?”

I don’t want to say good-bye, but Mom puts

her arm around me.
He’ll remember you.

Sean

Good-bye

Watching

good-byes.

Long ones.

Quick ones.

Sad ones.

Angry ones.

People say

good-bye in

many ways.

How will

people say

good-bye to me?

How will

people

remember me?

I Didn’t Hang Out

With Conner. Didn’t miss him

when he wasn’t at school

after his so-called accident

with the gun. That must

have been on purpose too.

But I have to admit, seeing

him dead, no more chances,

no more choices, no more

ways to make things better,

is making me think. Rethink.

That Tony guy wasn’t totally

right. I mean, yeah, he was

spot-on about other people’s

expectations, and how trying

to live up to them can take

a guy out. But fact is, I

don’t always play it safe.

I take calculated risks,

always with a focused goal

in sight. But sometimes

I feel dead inside anyway.

Cara made me feel alive.

Maybe that’s why I can’t

let her go. I don’t want

to feel dead anymore.

What I think is, I need to

find a way to feel alive

that doesn’t require

someone else to make

it happen. I mean, putting

a ball over the fence, and

hearing people cheer for

me, well, that’s a solo

effort, and a definite rush.

Dead people don’t get rushes.

Getting into Stanford,

mostly on my own

willpower, that came

close. It’s the “mostly”

that bothers me. Am I really

good enough to play Cardinal

ball? I think the time has

come to find out. To dry