Bada-bing-bada-boom. A new chapter, all for you. Guys I swear PLEASE REVIEW MORE:D No reviews makes me write slower, I swear!

So the last chapter was really sad. A break from all the fluff I guess. BUT NOT TO FRET, many more fluffy chapters ahead! More sadness of course, but I gotta give my characters a break sometimes.

So I will be I starting school soon, don't send me to the gallows for not updating faster. I shall continue this fic:)

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okay so I obviously don't own THG, or I wouldnt be posting on a fanfiction site about said novel. Jeez.

Stay cool.

~Jenna

THIRTEEN

The necklace feels like it was made of stone on my neck, pulling my chest down, making me sink into the soft sand as I stand in from of the willow tree that Annie's ashes are buried under.

I stand beside a very stony, very defeated Oriole, and my mother, who is being held by my father.

The ocean air is especially salty this morning. The waves are crashing especially hard on the sharp sand. The sun is too muted behind the too dark clouds that fill the over-stuffed grey sky. Everyone is wearing too much black and crying too hard. My head is being too loud, my eyes are being too blurry. My tongue is too dry. My lungs are being overly deflated.

They dig a hole too deep, and scatter too many of Annie's ashes into the sand. Each member of my family is expected to throw a handful of sand into the hole. We're supposed to help bury Annie.

My mother and father first, then my brother Caspian, looking very young. A few of Annie's relatives. Not many. The sand piles up, only a few inches left. It looks like a mountain, growing from the ground, building up over us, towering.

I force myself to toss the sand that feels like molten lava in my fingers into the grave. My joints feel like rusty screws that refuse to turn.

Oriole is last, but he doesn't move. I look at him, and everyone just looks down, waiting for him to do something. But I'm the only one who continues to look at him. His eyes are empty, and his face is so dark it doesn't even look like him. I step forward, towards him. Again, my feet are sixty pounds too heavy.

I reach forward and hold his right wrist, his hand in a fist, holding the sand. I pull him and help him take the four very painful steps to her grave. I hold his elbow and toss forward lightly. He lets go of the sand, and it scatters on the pile. His face crumples, and I take hold of his arms, stepping back, and hold his middle the rest of the funeral. His chest is rising fast and falling unevenly, like he can't catch his breath. One of his arms are draped over my shoulders, limp. His other just hangs there. I lift my hand and press it to his chest, calming his breathing.

I can feel the others eyes on us, but I just press harder and pull him closer.

Annie's gone. This just makes it all the more official.

Funerals aren't for the dead. They're for the living.

•••

Being in one house with five grieving people isn't easy. It isn't private. And it isn't desirable

I can't understand why Caleb is still here with us. He doesn't have to stay, he didn't really know Annie, he was friendly with her, but never really knew her. It must be strange being a part of something you don't really relate to.

I guess the only reason he's staying is because of my family. But he still doesn't have to.

I've only spoken to him a few times. He's comforted me, but it's not like before. Nothing's like before, but our friendship is something that's changed drastically. We don't spend all our time together, we don't talk, like really talk. But I mean, I can't blame him. Someone just died. And I basically rejected him. And we're living in Orioles house.

Life isn't really at it's utmost best these days.

It ended up raining the next day. Everyone had just gone to their rooms last night, lights out, no one ate, spoke, went out. Except for Oriole, who stayed out on the beach all night. With me.

It was probably eleven thirty by the time I heard him. It was stuffy in my room and I needed air, so opened my window, sliding it up to let the cool ocean breeze in. The moon was full and huge, a beautiful bright light in the dotted sky.

And I heard his voice. He was talking. Considering how close my room was to the beach, I wasn't surprised I could hear him. He was talking again, to his mother. He did that, talked to the waves. His voice wasn't easy to hear, but I could tell he was crying. It sounded raspy and strained. I stood there for a moment, but eventually came to my senses and stepped away from the window.

I lay back down on my bed and listened to the waves. Even though I couldn't hear his words, I could still hear Oriole. It took me about three minutes before I couldn't stand hearing him like that anymore. I grabbed my sweater and crept outside, slipping into the cool night air.

I shuffled across the sandy grass and onto the beach. The tide was high, and Oriole was higher up the beach than usual, but close to the water, and the waves crashed close to his feet. He was lying on his back, his arms over his face. He wasn't talking anymore. His shoulders shook slightly.

I sat down beside him and stretched out in the sand. I reached over and pulled his arms from his face. He turned his head to me, and I could almost make out his face in the muted moonlight. His eyes were big and puffy, his cheeks glistening and wet. He didn't say a word.

I wiped his face with my thumbs, and turned back over to look at the stars. Oriole was still on his side, staring at me. When I glanced over, I realized it wasn't my face he was staring at. He was looking at the necklace. It shone on the front of my sweater. I picked up with light fingers, and observed it. It looked prettier than before.

"Because you're the beauty in this world to us."

I started at his voice, and dropped the pendant. But I didn't move. His voice was close, and I hadn't hear it in a while. It was deeper, more emotional, but it sounded like him.

"That's what she said. She was right," he continued.

"Oriole-"

"It's okay. I'm okay."

He didn't sound okay.

I turned on my side to face him. "No, you're not."

He just smiled sadly.

"Oriole, your mom loves you more than anything in the world."

He sighed. "Loved." He corrected.

"No, loves. Present-tense. She loves you, present tense."

He was quiet. He rolled onto his back again.

After a while, he said, "I love her present-tense too," his voice breaking a lot.

"I know."

"Why did she have to leave?"

I sighed. "Because that's what happens sometimes. People have to leave. Things have to end. But it's never over, Or. Life is never ever over. You still have me, us. We're still here. She's still here. Real love never ever dies. It's never gone."

He smiled at the stars. "I see her in you. All the time, you know that?"

No, I didn't. I could only wish that I could remind someone of Annie Odair.

"Thanks," I grinned.

"You don't have to thank me for telling the truth."

"I guess not."

Oriole looked like we were kids again. His eyes gazed up at the constellations, I could almost see him counting the stars. His lips moved microscopically, stating numbers. He did that to calm his mind. God knows what number he's up to. He used to do it when we were little.

Even though he looked younger, he looked much older. He had aged a thousand years in the past few weeks. His laugh lines seem faded. His smile is something rare. His hands are worn from being clenched. He hasn't shaved in a week. His shoulders hunched. I wondered how long it would take to get the old Oriole back.

"Five thousand, six hundred and fifty two."

I looked at him.

"That's how many stars I've counted since my mom died."

"That's a lot."

He laughed. A sound that made tears prick in the corners of my eyes. He hadn't laughed in ages.

"They are infinite," he points out.

"Like us," I smile. He reached over to hold my hand.

Oriole and I had a concept. We've had it since I was twelve and he was fifteen. That fall, he taught me about infinity, how the stars are infinite, how the universe is infinite, how snowflakes are infinite. Numbers. I had pointed out how love was infinite. Family. He laughed and told me that wasn't how it worked, but that night, when we were up on The Lookout Point staring at the stars, he said, "Im sorry about turning down what you said earlier. About love being infinite. I told my mom, and she said you were right."

I had smiled and hit his arm. "I'm always right."

"Yeah, no," he laughed. "But it makes sense. A family's love is infinite, even when they're gone. It still goes on, I guess. No matter what. You any stop loving someone if you've felt about them that way."

I slid down and lay my head on his lap. Looking
upside down at his chin, I said, "You're chin is a face, with an upside down mouth." I giggled.

He flicked the side of my head. "Anyways, I was gonna say, even friendship is that same kinda love."

I stopped giggling and looked into his eyes. They were so pretty. "So, were infinite?"

He grinned. "Guess so."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

"ITS SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE"

*hollered in voice of crazed little girl in 'Despicable Me'*

ha. See what I did there? ;)