The church is packed that Thursday morning. Sunlight streams in through the stained glass windows. There are so many people gathered into the small building that, even though it is a cold January morning, I'm beginning to sweat. I peek behind me. People are still filing in, even though every pew is filled and it is standing room only.

I shouldn't be surprised: Darrel and Laura Curtis were wonderful people, beloved by all who knew them.

Already irritated at being squished into the pew, Paul Holden pokes me in the side. "Stop squirming, Diana," he hisses. "It's already uncomfortable as shit in here without you making it worse."

I can't think of anything clever enough to say, so I settle for glaring at him. He makes a face at me in return, clearly unimpressed. Paul and I broke up two weeks ago after going steady for almost four years. The only reason we're even speaking today is because our mutual friend just lost his parents and we both felt like we should be here.

"You should have let me wear my jersey," Paul whines. "Curtis would have appreciated it."

"You can't wear a football jersey to a funeral," I snap. People turn to look at me, and I blush. Lowering my voice, I say, "Really, Paul. You know better than that."

Paul gives me a crooked smile, the one that still makes my heart skip a beat even though I hate to admit it. "It would have made him smile though."

I fall silent. "Maybe," I admit. "D'you think… d'you think he'll be ok?"

"He has to be," Paul says. "We'll never win another game without him."

My eyes find Darrel Curtis, son of the deceased Darrel Sr., at the front of the church. He is standing up, talking to the pastor, looking as careful and controlled as he always does. If it weren't for the two crying boys that he turns around and comforts as the pastor walks away, he could almost be back in class or on the football field. I see his face falter for only a second as his youngest brother pulls away from him, but then quick as anything it's gone.

"Those poor boys," I murmur.

Paul gives me an odd look, but before he can say anything the service starts and a hush falls over the church. The only thing we can hear, other than the pastor, are the sobs coming from the boys who are now orphans.

"Darrel, man, I am so sorry," Paul says, slapping Darrel on the back after the service. "We're having a party tomorrow night it you wanna come, might get your mind off of things."

Darrel is quiet. "Maybe. Thanks for coming," he says. He turns to me. "Diana. Thank you for coming."

I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry," I offer up lamely, slipping my hand into his. "If you need anything…" I trail off, hating myself for being so awkward.

He takes it well though. "Thank you. Are you going to the party tomorrow night?"

"I haven't decided yet," I say with a shrug. It's a party for the football crowd, and since I'm no longer dating a football player I think I might be out of place. And if Paul and his new girlfriend are going to be there I'd rather not be. "Are your brothers going to be ok?"

They've disappeared, leaving Darrel alone to deal with the crowd of family and friends who want to offer condolences. After having spent the entire service listening to their barely stifled sobs, I don't blame them for wanting to get away.

"I don't know," he says quietly. He looks behind him, as if he can see where his brothers are, and frowns. "I hope so."

I drop my voice a little and ask, "are you going to be ok?"

His face sort of falls, and he looks younger and a little lost. "I don't know that either."

I give his hand a squeeze. "I am so, so sorry."

He smiles wryly, excusing himself to go talk to other guests. Paul throws an arm around my shoulders. "Lunch?"

Paul and I end up at a diner on his side of town. He orders a sandwich and a beer.

"It's one o'clock!" I protest, frowning at him.

"That's why I'm getting beer and not liquor," Paul says.

I roll my eyes. "I'll have the same as him, only instead of beer I'd like coffee, please."

The waitress makes a note on her pad and walks away. Paul stares at her walking away for only a minute before his eyes snap up to meet mine and he says, "So."

"So."

"That was pretty shitty today, wasn't it?" Paul says. "Poor Curtis."

I nod. "Yeah. I can't imagine what I'd do if something happened to my parents."

"Yeah," Paul sighs, looking oddly introspective. "That must be rough."

"I wonder what he'll do about his brothers."

"I imagine the state will take him." He sees me wince and he looks surprised. "Come on, it might be for the best. You know which side of town they live on."

We're interrupted by the waitress bringing our food. She sets down a sandwich in front of us, and hands Paul his beer. My coffee is set in front of me. The steam warms my face and I smile, reaching for the cream and sugar.

"You could have just ordered milk, you know," Paul jokes.

I smile at him. "Maybe I should start."

"Maybe we should get back together."

My head snaps up. "What?"

He repeated himself, adding, "You know I'm not serious about Miriam."

"Seemed pretty serious when I walked in on the two of you at Jenny's party two weeks ago."

"It was just sex," Paul says with a laugh. "Don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me."

"Don't be ridiculous," I sneer. I take a sip of coffee. It's sweet and milky, just the way I like it. "We're not getting back together."

"It's your fault you know." Paul sounds serious and bitter and I look up at him. "You've changed since you came to college. You're not the same person."

It's true that I'm not the same person. It might even be my fault that he cheated on me, I don't know. I take another sip of coffee, ignoring the painful contractions in my heart, and say with more calm than I feel, "I'm sorry you feel that way."

He takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly. "I don't want to do this today. D'you think Curtis will come tomorrow night?"

"Dunno."

"That dude is gonna get so much tail."

"Jesus, Paul!" I set my coffee down a bit too hard, making the liquid slosh over the top.

"It's true." Paul grins. "Damn lucky if you ask me. Don't think I didn't notice you holding on to his hand and fluttering your eyelashes at him."

"I did no such thing!" I sputter.

"'Oh, Darrel, I'm sooo sorry about your parents,'" Paul says in a high pitched voice that sounds nothing like me. "'Please let me comfort you with my-'" I throw a sugar packet at him, and he breaks off laughing. "I'm just teasing you, Diana. I'm not joking about the sex he's going to get though. Man, I'd bump off my dad tomorrow if I thought I could get away with it."

"Don't let Miriam hear you say that." I say, snidely reminding him of his new girlfriend's existence. "It doesn't bode well if you've only been dating her for a couple weeks and you're already looking around."

"No," he informs me, heartlessly committed to accuracy. "You only found out a couple weeks ago. Really it's been more like… six months maybe?"

I tut. "Maybe I will go offer some comfort to Darrel."

"That's fine." Paul doesn't seem at all phased by the thought of me with his best friend. "Be prepared to stand in line."

"Everything okay here?" The waitress comes back to check on us. "How're the sandwiches?"

"They're wonderful!" I say, before Paul can open his mouth to say anything dirty or ask for her number or God knows what else. "Is it possible to get some apple pie? And more coffee? Put it all on his tab, by the way." I smile at Paul. "He's paying."