Chapter Text
When you blow your head off, you can’t really have an open casket funeral.
The sharp realization that Nat’s last sight of her father’s face was him screaming fury as he stepped toward her, ready to strike, hit her as she stood in her bargain bin black dress staring down at the cheap wooden coffin that held her father’s body. Nat had known it would be closed, of course she had, but standing there she was filled with the sudden urge to fling the coffin open for one last look. She imagined an intact, still face, imagined being able to lean down and kiss his waxy cheek goodbye. Instead she was left with the word “useless” and hate-filled eyes ready to beat her black and blue, a spray of blood, and half a head.
Nat’s lip trembled but she didn’t shed tears. They gathered in the corners of her eyes and she blinked them rapidly away, fearful that her outward display of emotion would bring the ire of… well, someone, given that Dad wasn’t around to call her a crybaby or a crocodile-teared cunt. She figured it was probably okay that she wasn’t crying because her mom was howling enough anguish for the both of them in the corner surrounded by the few friends Dad had allowed her to keep. Her mom’s friend Stacey noticed Nat looking and gave her a soft nod before going back to tending to her mom.
Nat hadn’t invited her own support to the funeral. She could have invited Kevyn and Charlie but hadn’t even entertained the idea. Charlie wasn’t good with the serious stuff and that suited the friendship just fine. Kevyn… he could handle it better. He was sweet and had offered Nat a shoulder. She had soundly rejected him. The fact that he had been there mere minutes before her father’s death loomed dark over their heads. Nat hadn’t told him the time or place for the funeral.
So imagine Nat’s surprise when she turned from the coffin to see Kevyn at the back of the room, standing awkwardly to the side in a suit that was too big for his frame and a deer-in-headlights expression on his face. She felt her stomach drop to her feet and cold anxiety tickling every nerve. Kevyn started to raise a hand and then stopped, an aborted wave. His hand fell limply to his side and he reflexively shrugged one shoulder. Nat’s heart nearly burst with affection. Then the guilt came roaring back in.
Nat smiled weakly at Kevyn but did not go to greet him. She didn’t want to draw attention to his presence. No one but Nat and her mother knew that Kevyn had been there, too, but if her mom noticed him there was no telling how she’d react. She probably wouldn’t do or say anything but even the infinitesimal possibility of Nat’s mom seeing Kevyn and blaming him for her dad’s death would make everything a thousand times worse. It wasn’t Kevyn’s fault. He had come over at Nat’s insistence and had left when he was told. Everything that followed was on Nat alone.
Nat turned back to the coffin, the lone wreath that had been donated to their service limp and wilting on a church easel as a sad reminder that they had no picture of the deceased to display. There were a few framed photos on a table in the back but Nat hadn’t been able to find a good portrait photo of her dad. Her mom had barely functioned enough to pay for the service let alone engaged in any prep for it. She had left Nat to handle as much as she could. Nat had done her best to make phone calls, find photos, pick the coffin, schedule the service.
Talk to the police.
Nat pushed those thoughts back and back, into a small crevice in her mind that held onto everything she didn’t want to acknowledge. She was good at that. The problem these days was that the crevice was packed, overflowing, and she could shove one thing in and another would squeeze back out.
Nat waited another fifteen minutes by the coffin, fielding the handful of condolences that came her way, before finally feeling safe enough to make her way back toward Kevyn. He had taken a seat in a fold-out chair towards the back. The turnout for the service was maybe a dozen people so he inevitably stuck out but Nat’s mom still hadn’t reacted so she figured it was okay to check in on him. Kevyn sat up straight as she approached and Nat gave him a small smile.
“Hey,” she said quietly. She tried to put her hands in her pockets before remembering she had none. Instead she smoothed her dress down on both sides.
“Hey,” Kevyn replied, voice cracking as if he was going through puberty. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hey.”
“How’d you find out about this?” Nat questioned.
“I asked around. Sorry… I should have asked you if I could come. I just wanted- I mean, I hoped I could.. be here for you.”
Nat tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to hide the softness that was falling across her face. If her heart had been whole she was sure it should melt.
She didn’t deserve Kevyn Tan.
“You’re sweet,” was all she said.
Kevyn perked up a little at that, hope flickering in his eyes. Nat didn’t want to squash it. A slow smothering of that flame would have to do. Simple enough, Nat thought. He’d figure out she wasn't worth the effort but she hoped they’d still stay friends.
“So, like, what are you doing after?” Kevyn asked. His face paled in immediate regret. “I mean- shit- that was a stupid question, I’m so sorry, I…” He trailed off miserably and looked down at his hands.
“No, no, it’s okay,” Nat rushed to reassure. He hadn’t meant any harm. She would never fault him for being awkward in a strange and terrible situation. “Wanna get out of here?”
.
Nat got black-out drunk for the first time that afternoon.
.