Chapter 12

RHEA

The sun is beating down and it's way too warm considering it's only May. This kind of weather is supposed to be reserved for when I can go to the beach, not when I have to sit in lecture halls all day and smell the stench of more students than I care to think about.

I sigh and pause as I notice the ice cream truck that's pulled up opposite the campus fountain. I'm only heading towards grief support session, it doesn't matter if I'm a few minutes late getting a slushie.

Though it would be rude to only get one for myself.

I pull out my phone and tap out a message to Jack. There's an ice cream van on campus. Want anything? >

Is it weird to eat a Mr Whippy while we're in grief support group? >

Maybe. But if the van's still here after we leave and you feel like skipping your next class, you could get one. > I'm not sure taking an ice cream into the room really fits the vibe.

Hmm tempted. But for now, I'll be sensible, a mixed slushie would be great. >

A mix? That's you being sensible? > I'm smiling like an idiot at the conversation even if it's just about a drink.

Yes, that way I don't have to pick between the oh-so-different flavours of red and blue. >

The blue flavour is the superior one. >

I don't see his response as I get to the front of the queue and order the slushies. I tap my card against the reader and wait for the beep.

The cups are surprisingly cold as I pick them up and head on to the student union. I should have grabbed one of those annoying cardboard cup holders but I didn't think about it.

I push the door open with my back and step inside the room used for the session, smiling as I see Jack sitting in our usual spot. It's strange that I started coming here because of how sad I was, and yet it's started to be something I look forward to. Maybe because this is somewhere I can talk about Granny freely.

It's nothing to do with the fact Jack's face lit up when I enter the room.

"Hi, Rhea," Bobbi says brightly.

"Hi," I respond.

She gives me a curious look as I head over to Jack and hand him his mixed slushie.

"Luckily, they're using those new bamboo straws rather than the paper ones," I say.

"Oh yes, they're much better." He stirs it around the slush. "Though I did like the plastic ones with the little shovel on the end for eating slush."

I chuckle. "Oh, yeah, I remember them." I sit down, feeling suddenly hot and sticky. "I still can't believe you get a mixed one."

"It's not like they taste any different anyway. The red and the blue taste exactly the same."

"They don't," I protest. "This totally tastes of raspberry." I take a slurp of my slushie, the cold rushing to my head and giving me a hint of brain freeze.

"If it's really raspberry, then why is it blue?" he asks. "Raspberries are pink."

"I don't know. Why don't you look it up?"

He picks up his phone and taps in the question, his eyebrows raising as he reads. "You're not going to believe this."

"Don't tell me raspberries are actually blue," I respond.

"Pretty much." He turns his phone around so I can see the picture.

"It's more purple than blue," I counter. "And kind of just looks a bit blackberryish."

"It's a blue raspberry," he says, scrolling back up. "But it does say that the blue raspberry flavour is completely synthetic but is made to mimic the blue raspberry. Oh, and apparently it first came out about in the fifties to add to snow cones, so you having it in a slushie is just about the purest form of blue raspberry flavour you could have."

"Huh, I'd never have guessed."

"Why haven't you looked it up before?"

I shrug. "I guess I've not really had someone to talk about the dumb things with."

"I don't know whether to be insulted or not." The amusement on his face tells me he's not being serious.

Someone clears their throat and we both turn to find Bobbi standing there with a strange expression on her face. "Mind if I sit?"

"Sure," Jack replies.

She pulls up a chair and makes herself comfortable opposite us.

"I'm sorry if we're not allowed drinks," I say. "I didn't think."

"The drinks are fine, Rhea, you're not in trouble or anything. I just feel as if I haven't touched base with either of you enough in the past few weeks. I noticed you've been gravitating towards each other in sessions, and I'm guessing spending time together outside them too?"

We exchange a look, before I nod. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not. I'm glad the group has helped you find each other. I've had this position at the academy for several years and I've seen a lot of bonds like yours form. If you were five or ten years older, you'd probably find yourself leaning on a long-term partner for support. But I'm guessing neither of you have one."

"We're not dating, if that's what you're asking," I mumble.

"I was more asking if you were in a relationship with anyone else," Bobbi says.

"Oh, then no."

"Same here," Jack adds.

She nods, seeming to have expected the answer. "It's natural to search out someone who can understand you at this time. It's a good thing. Just don't forget to check in with everyone else."

I nod, not really knowing what that means.

"All right, I'm going to go talk to the others."

Jack sighs. "She probably means I need to message my dad."

"I don't think she meant anything specific. I don't think we've been spending that much time together, have we?"

"All my other friends remember who I am," he responds. "So that's a good start. And yours were all at your birthday last week."

"Exactly." I pick up my slushie and take a sip. "Though there was something Sage said that I've been thinking about."

"Oh?"

"Well, after we left the club, she figured we went home."

"We did," he points out.

"Together."

"To...ah."

I clear my throat. "I know it's nothing, but maybe we're giving off some kind of vibe that there's more between us."

"Maybe. But does it matter if we are? I'm not planning on dating, and you said you don't want to either, so maybe it's okay if we're putting off a vibe."

"Good point." I smile. "I don't want to date anyone." Saying the words out loud sounds weird. I've said them plenty of times, and thought them even more. But this time, something seems off, like the statement isn't entirely true.

I push the thought aside. It's best if I don't examine it here. Right now, I need to focus on the conversation at hand.

"Don't let Bobbi get in your head," Jack says.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

He shrugs. "Because I'm probably thinking the same thing. We're not becoming codependent or anything and are both maintaining our friendships with other people. Or at least, I am. I'm guessing you are too."

I nod. "I actually feel like I'm doing a better job than when I started coming here."

"Not surprising. You're processing your feelings, right?"

"Yeah. I still miss Granny."

"You're always going to," he points out. "She's not exactly replaceable."

"No, I guess not."

"But hopefully, one day it'll just be about missing her rather than it being painful," he muses.

I reach out and touch his arm. It's comforting to see someone who has been going through this longer still feeling their emotions, but daunting at the same time. Six months feels like a long time to me, and that's how far ahead of me he is in his journey of grief. It seems like it's going to be a long hard journey for me too. Even if I don't want it to be.

But I'd rather that than not mourn the woman who helped make me who I am.