Jay stood at the edge of her best friend’s grave, the dress she had worn especially for Hayley, floating around her legs. She was still wearing boots, and a vest with pockets. If Hayley had asked what the hell she was wearing, Jay would say she was going for 90s grunge, if the magazines she had read were accurate. Hayley would then be somewhat mollified.

Everything was too clear in this moment. The sunlight, the soft breath of the breeze, the chirruping forest. Jay closed her eyes.

Hayley and I used to play this morbid game. We called it ‘What if I Died?’ – we asked what would we say or remember about each other. She was much better at it than me. That is one of the reasons why I think it would be better if we could switch places right now. Jay couldn’t see her Dad, but she could imagine him shaking his head slightly, in frustration. Jay swiped at her face, and Hayley’s mom touched her arm, gently. I think we were very lucky to have each other, for so long, in this world. And selfishly, I am sad that one of only a handful of people that has known me nearly all my life, a holder of my memories, is gone. But I have another role now; I have her memories to take care of. Hayley liked wearing pretty dresses and looking nice. She was fierce and protective, even though she hid her soft side in sarcasm and name-calling. Jay glanced over at Jeremy. She wasn’t perfect. I can’t even pretend that, even though she isn’t here to defend herself. She was always late and often her thoughts would come straight out of her mind, unfiltered. I would have known within 20 paces that she would have hated this outfit. She didn’t let this tough world make her hard. She was generous and adventurous, and she was the girl I loved most in the world.

Jay opened her eyes. Those were the things she would have said today, if she had been brave enough. If she felt she had the right. But she didn’t. It was her private eulogy. As everyone moved away, Jay backed up to a tree, letting everyone pass, giving, small, close-mouthed smiles of acknowledgment that never reached her eyes. A real smile would seem like an obscene thing.

She watched her dad in the crowd. He always knew what to do and what to say. Jay scuffed the toe of her boot into the dirt. Ben sidled up to her. He didn’t say anything. She could smell him. Sunshine and warm polyester; a suit jacket. He pressed a piece of paper into her hand. Jay slipped it into a pocket without looking at it, and Ben walked away.

Let’s go, said Dep, slinging an arm around Jay’s shoulder. He’ll take forever. Dep paused. He’s proud of you, you know.

Jay rolled her eyes, for what – pretending to be a semi-decent human being?

Yeah, pretty much, agreed Dep.

Life goal achieved, then. But she knew then, without having spoken to her dad at all, that there was a truce.