I Need You So Much Closer

by Kitty Kat

Updated 1.06.06 Sequel to This Brilliant Dance. When Ashley decides to move to New York, how will it rock the Degrassi community?

10. At Your Funeral

I Need You So Much Closer

A/N: Sorry about the delay. Major computer troubles, and I lost the first half so had to do it over. Song lyrics "At Your Funeral" by Saves the Day.

Chapter 10: At Your Funeral

As soon as I step through the threshold into our apartment, Kate grabs me and leads me back out. "Where are we going?" I ask dumbly following her down the stairs.

"To see our favorite neighbor."

"Who's that? Mrs. Cassidy?"

"She died last week, Craig. No, our new favorite neighbor. Steven Figaretti. Yes, so Italian. Anyways, he's getting us hooked up with some pot."

"Anyone in this city can get us hooked up, but I think you're forgetting how little money we have. The reason we haven't had pot in over a week, you know?"

"He doesn't want money," she says finally getting off at a landing two floors below our's.

"Well, okay, what's the catch? What does he want?"

She smells under each arm pit, and I look away, disgusted. "All he wants," she says, obviously pleased with the lack of odor, "is a little bit of me." She knocks on the door.

I laugh. How can I not? It's fucking hilarious. "You're pimping yourself out for weed?"

She looks over at me and then nods her approval. "And, I'm sharing."

"How nice of you." The large Italian, Steven Figaretti, opens the door. Kate smiles widely. "Hey Steven, this is my roommate, Craig. You remember, the gay one."

He nods and opens the door enough for us to squeeze in. He passes me the bag. Fair amount. "You can start, Craig. She'll be joining you shortly."

Kate smiles flirtatiously and grabs his thigh. "Not that shortly, though." They laugh and disappear into a back bedroom.

I make a quick exit out of the apartment. It smells, and I really would rather not listen to the sounds of my girlfriend fucking another man. I push my way back into my apartment and see a light blinking on the answering machine. Who the hell would leave us a message? I thought we had paid most of our bills this month. So fucking great that we didn't. I push the button and fall onto the couch in the next room, still in perfect ear shot.

The first thing I notice is her voice. It's different. It's hurt, in some crazy way that I know it will never be fixed. "Craig, hey. It's Ashley. Ashley Kerwin. Um, well, I called because I just, well, I wanted to tell you that Toby died last night. His funeral is going to be Tuesday at the Samson Funeral Home. I just wanted to let you know and everything. Okay. Well, bye."

I play the message three times and pinch myself the same amount to make sure this is actually happening. Finally, I resign myself to the oldest Chinese food ever made and an equally old documentary about, what else, drugs.

Kate walks, no- skips, totally oblivious to the fact that I'm dead on the couch and simultaneously forgetting that I left her in that creep's apartment. She frolics into the kitchen. "A message?" she says in that horribly overly dramatic tone that she takes on when she thinks she's a Broadway dance. "Pour moi?"

She pushes the button and Ashley's voice resonates through my ears, once again. Thanks. Thanks a fucking lot, Kate. Kate stands in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. "Did you hear this?" she asks.

I nod and bury my face in my hands. I try to dig my brain out through my eyes with the palms of my hands. It's not going too well. I guess this is Craig Manning's adult version of trying to dig a hole to China in his backyard. "Are you going?" I don't answer. Go away. Please. "I mean," she says coming more into the room, "if you want to go, you know, I'll go with you. I'll meet everyone. This Ashley chick, is she your friend?"

"I'm sending flowers. Because I love her. I love Ashley. If you want to deal with that, fine, but I really don't. So don't bring it up anymore."

"Oh." She takes a step back. She stands there for a long time. The entire room is silent except for the monotonous documentary that I don't have the energy to turn off. She steps in between the couch and the table and picks up the baggie. "Oh," she says again before leaving the apartment.

"This song will become,
the anthem of your underground.
You're two floors down,
getting high in the back room."

The Simpson/Nelson household seems even more dark and blustery the day of Toby's funeral. I knock on the front door, as I was instructed to do, and wait for any sign of life. The seconds tick away slowly, but I'm not counting them. Something inside of me, I can't place the exact feeling, pushes me to enter her house. I feel drawn to her somehow, and I know that I'm no good to anyone standing on her porch like the useless idiot I've become.

I step inside her house. I expect it to be clean, or at least give off the appearance as such in the front room, but it's not. Her house is dirty. I can't even process the thought. I pass the laundry baskets littering her floor and the dirty dishes piled in the sink to the top of her basement steps. I sidestep wrappers and her shelled off underwear to make my way into her room. "Knock knock," I say leaning against the stair rail.

She flutters her eyelids open. She is sprawled out on her comforter, a black dress on and black shoes danging from her feet. "What time is it?" she asks groggily.

"Time to get a watch." I wait for her to laugh or make an attempt at a smile or anything, but she doesn't. "It's getting kind of late, actually."

She turns her head to the side, and I can fully see the red eyes and the tears that inhabit them. "Why does it matter if we're late? He's dead. He doesn't care. He's dead," her voice fades along with her confidence of the statement.

"We're not going because of him. I mean, we are going because of him. But we're going for everyone, Em. We're going because Ash and Manny, they need us. We're going because, I guess, it's supposed to give us closure. I don't know, have you ever not gone to the funeral of someone you loved?"

"Yea," she says looking up at me with totally earnest eyes. "Your's."

I sit on the edge of the bed and shrug. "It's my fault. I did phrase that wrong." She turns her head away with a slight look of disgust. I know what she's thinking. She just pretty much said she loved me. And I ignored it. Because I don't know what else to do, and all of my muscles are aching to be going to Toby's funeral. But I don't move an inch. I don't think I can. I can hardly breathe around her.

"I'm sorry. I made this really uncomfortable. I shouldn't have said anything."

She looks thoroughly shocked when I put my hand on top of her's. "No. You deserve honesty, so let me be honest. Okay, so when I went after the only two girlfriends I've ever had, it was after this extremely traumatic event in their life. I didn't think of it then, but I was stupid and now I know. I can't do that. I was taking advantage of them. I mean, it's just like if they were drunk and I coaxed them into a relationship. I can't do that to you, Emma. Never."

"Without you, JT, I have nothing. Don't," she pauses as she wipes away a few of her tears, "don't think for a second that I don't need this. I do."

"I need you in my life, but I'm not sure how to do this. I promise I'll always be here. But for right now..." I trail off, lost for words.

"For right now, we can just go do this thing. Someone whom I trust with my life said that it gives you closure." I link my fingers with her's and walk up the stairs with her. Somehow, this crazy blonde environmentalist nut has given me something I haven't had in a long time: hope.

"If I flooded out your house,
Do you think you'd make it out?
Or would you burn up before the water filled your lungs?"

I look at the next batch of mourners. Cousins from the States. I'm sorry, right? Because you can't think of anything original or meaningful to say. I'm sorry for your loss. Your brother was a good person. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Your empty words hold no meaning for me. Come on, quote some Billy Joel, mix it up a bit. Only the good die young, yea. Now I understand why Craig laughed at his dad's funeral. These people pretending to know what they have no idea about: true grief. Craig knew, but he's half a world away, screening his calls. Fuck Craig Manning. I have no time for him anymore. Thank God, JT's finally here. With Emma fucking Nelson hanging off his arm like... arm candy. When did that happen? We've been broken up for three days. Seventy two hours to get a new girlfriend. I need to get out of here. Spinner and Manny. I hate her. No, no I don't. Just, deal with her. I'm shaking with sobs by the time I reach them huddled against the door. I don't know why I'm crying again. Is it not for Toby? I mean, who would cry after they pretty much killed their best friend, their brother? Not Ashley Kerwin, that's for damned sure. Manny's crying, and Spinner looks lost. What's new? I offer them the only form of consolation I have, the small bag of high grade marijuana just sitting in my glove compartment, waiting for a few lost souls to forget their problems. Manny takes one long look towards my brother's casket before deciding she'd rather be anywhere but here. I'm starting to like this chick more already. We make our way outside and past the youngest of the three funeral directors. The first time I saw him, his eyes drew me into him in a way that made me feel dirty and childish inside. I actually believe his sympathies, maybe just a fault of his genuine nature. He's smoking a cigarette, so I stop and kid him, asking if he'd like anything a bit stronger. He clenches his jaw a few times before saying that he would kill for something stronger. Well, that settles it. The man is getting what he wants. The only other thing I can remember is complete oblivion. No happiness, though. My brother's dead. JT's with Emma, and it pisses me off because I know he should be. And Craig? Fuck Craig Manning. It's not my fault this whole fucking scene is dead.

"And at your funeral,
I will sing the requiem."

Ehh: You should be warned. Major stoner fluff here. Why? I don't know. Just... be prepared for the fluff of your Katy-reading lives.

Manny blows a puff of smoke in my face and I brush it away. "You're so cute," she giggles. I love her. I don't know, but for some reason, her letting loose, and crying, and being totally everything she is around makes me feel so much better about myself. I run my hand through her hair.

"Manny, can I tell you something?"

"Sure! Anything. Unless, it's like, I think we should break up. Because I'd die. And kill myself. Yup."

"I just wanted to tell you that I love everything about you, and I would cry if you realized how much better you are than me and dumped me."

She makes her version of the stoned, pouty face. "Mr. Gavin Spinner Mason, I would never dump you! If you were a telephone, you'd still be off the hook."¹

"Manny, have you been listening to my Brand New tapes again?"

"Nooooo," she says giggling. "Okay, a little."

I put my forehead next to her's. "Are you thinking of me when you're putting on your make-up darling? Dying your hair like you do? Well, you're wasting your time if you're trying to impress me, I waste all my time just thinking of you."¹

I see tears form in her eyes, and I silently thank God or whoever for giving me the ability to remember those lyrics right. She kisses both sides of my mouth. "You're it," she says rubbing my cheek softly. "You're the guy that I dreamed of always. God," she kisses me again. "Forever, Spin?"

I link my pinky with her's. "Forever, Manny."

We hear a car door close loudly in the distance, and our heads snap apart. "Should we check on Ashley?" she asks before I can find the words.

I'm already halfway gone. "Yea, let's go."

We jog hand in hand to Ashley's car, parked only a few cars away. She's alone now, the funeral director or whoever the fuck she brought to take a quarter of her stash is gone. I get in the passenger's side and Manny goes into the back. "How are ya, pal?" I ask with a fake smile.

Her hair is messed up in that just had sex sort of way. I don't think she even realized that we came into the car. "Oh, hey guys! Manny, you look so pretty. You know what? I don't hate you. I'm sorry I told everyone about when you got pregnant."

Ordinarily, I'm sure this would make the air settle awkwardly, and Manny would fidget and cry because she sucks like that whenever you bring up the pregnancy. But something about the combination of her being high, Ash being high, Ashley actually talking to her and apologizing and I'd like to think our little 'forever' promises a few minutes ago make Manny just giggle. "I never hated you Ash, ohmigosh. Like, I don't know, I looked up to you so much when I was little, right? And then, I did something and I was like, I'm so stupid! And I didn't even like Craig. He just smelled really good and was really sweet and I was like, well he's better than Sully. But I was so dumb to do that."

They start to laugh together. I put my hands over my face and laugh, too. Because it's funny. Life is funny. And hot damn I need a hot dog.

"This song will become,
the anthem of your underground.
You're two floors down,
getting high in the back room."

Why the fuck did you have to fucking die, Toby? Seriously, what the fuck is your problem? You had to make this awkward for me, didn't you? I have to go and see your sister and all of the people that I've hurt more than fucking anything. God, but you know I'd be here. You know that next year, in MI, I'm going to have a breakdown every time I see your empty desk. I know some new kid is going to come and try to sit there, but I swear to God the second he does, he'll be so dead. Trust me.

I walk quickly across the parking lot. The sun beats down on me, and the black of my suit absorbs it and burns my skin. I'm sweating a little, and I gladly play it off as the sun's fault. It's so damn hot in June nowadays. I see Ashley's car a few meters away, and I stop to stare at it. How much of my life had been spent in that car? So much.

I walk into the building. How did I ever convince myself to do this? This so wrong. The glares of everyone in there tells me that Sean Cameron is not welcome. I try to suppress the urge to run in the opposite direction and never look back, but it keeps bubbling over. I bite the fleshy parts of the inside of my mouth to keep myself from screaming.

I don't see Ashley anywhere, which is this huge internal sigh of relief. I walk up to the kneeler in front of the coffin and kneel. It's closed, which is haunting in it's own right. He was that fucked up and mangled that they couldn't make him look showable even in death. I've never used a kneeler before since I've never gone to church before, but I finger the tracery on the coffin and try to ignore the people boring holes into the back of my head.

There's a kneeler next to mine which an older lady had been using, probably an aunt or some such relative. She gets up to leave without me realizing it, but soon enough, the air shifts and another body is next to me. She tucks a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear and then uses the same hand to cover my own on the coffin. "He's dead."

I don't have to look over. I know her expression already. Her face, full of grief, and her eyes, intent on the head of the steel box that looms in front of us. "I know," I say in a hushed tone. "I've been told."

She lets her hand drop to her side. She does the sign of the cross and makes as if she's going to leave. "Take care, Sean."

"You too, Emma."

"Don't worry."

"I wasn't about to." She's gone again, and the lifelessness creeps back into the air.

"If I flooded out your house,
do you think you'd make it out?
Or would you burn up,
before the water fills your lungs?"

"It almost seems like it's not worth it to have friends. It's not worth it to get close to people, since everyone just dies on you anyways. I can't stand it. I just don't want to feel this kind of pain ever again."

JT wraps his arm around me reassuringly. "But if you never feel anything, you won't ever feel love. The love is what makes the pain tolerable."

"Did you just steal that from Dr. Phil's book of inspiration quotes or something? It was kind of random and fluffy."

He shrugs. "I just thought it would help."

I sigh. Great. Now he thinks that I'm mad at him just because he's a total corn ball. I attempt my sweetest smile. "I'm sorry. I'm just, not taking this well. To put it lightly."

"Yea, to put it lightly," he agrees. He leaves his arm around me as we both stare at the closed coffin in front of us. "What were," his voice cracks a bit, so he coughs and starts again. "What were you and Sean talking about?"

I fight the smile trying to creep its way onto my face. JT's jealous. "What were we talking about? Hmm, death. Toby. It was not a long conversation."

I cross and uncross my legs. How do I tell him that I love the feel of his arm around my shoulders? How do I put into words how much I need him? Sometimes, I remind myself, the direct approach is the best way. "JT?" I ask. He turns his attention off of the coffin and looks at me. "I love you."

I rest my head on his shoulder and he rubs my arm comfortingly. I love you.

"And at your funeral,
I will sing the requiem,
I'd offer you my hand;
It would hurt too much to watch you die."

I walk around my house, which I still call mine even though I haven't lived here in months, aimlessly, trying to avoid people I've already talked to or those who I think will only offer me the platitudes that have been burned into my subconscious at least forty times already this hour. I keep glancing back to the stairwell, trying to figure out the best way for me to sneak upstairs without being noticed. I capitalize on an opportunity as my grandma slips into the bathroom. "I need to use the lu," I say to my mom. "And grandma's occupying this one."

She waves her hand, dismissing me like a teacher. I roll my eyes and bound up the stairs, two at a time. Stepping into Toby's room is an emotional head rush, and I have to close my eyes and take a step back before I can gather the strength to continue.

I find a real sense of calm overwhelm me as I lay on top of his bed. His scent fills my entire body with a warm, musky feeling. I reach under his mattress and find his journal. I contemplate whether I should respect his privacy or not, but decide against it since he's dead, and I'm the one who needs help grieving.

"This is my last leg, been awake for days,
in a minute I'll die of starvation
I'll come back a ghost,
back to haunt you and float around your room.
What do I do when you get close?
If I kiss your neck, would you slit my throat?"¹

He's an amazing writer, I notice for the first time. Totally prophetic, too. I trace over the letters again, wondering who this could be about. Then I see the underlined 'AK.' Shit. It's about me.

I throw the book across the room. Fuck it, Toby. The date... it's been forever. You've loved me forever. I rub my face over and over again until it turns a bit raw. Jesus Christ.

I stand up and grab the book. I throw it into my bag and make my way back down to his wake. I walk up to my mom and dad, who are talking in hushed tones as everyone else dissipates around them. They look up at me expectantly as I stand with my hand on my hips. "Yes, Ashley?" my mom asks.

"Dad, I'll be out by the end of the week. I'm moving."

My mom chokes up, and my dad is in a stunned silence. Jeff appears from somewhere, and Kate buries her head in his chest. "Where are you going?" he manages.

"New York City. I'll be sure to stay in contact. I'm sorry, I just couldn't stay here anymore. I love you both, but it's just too hard."

This is for the best, I keep reminding myself as I turn on my heel and leave. I pass JT, who puts up his hand up in a stationary wave. I stare at him with tears threatening to spill over. I did this. I did this all.

"And you can bet when we mourn the death of you that night (of you that night),
They'll lay me on the dinner table;
I will be the pig,
With the apple in my mouth,
The food that celebrates your end."

Ashley's little revelation was, well, interesting. I really, truly hope it's not just a late working side effect of the pot. In that case, she'll have more than enough fun explaining her whole little scene to everyone in the morning. If not, well, I guess I'll be one of the first to say that I will miss her. She's changed. She's a lot more fun now, and she learned how to let grudges go.

Spinner shakes his head at the closed door and looks down on me. "What do you think that was all about?" he asks.

I shrug. "Well, she doesn't have JT, and she must feel like Emma abandoned her. And of course, she doesn't have Toby. She must feel like she has no one. I mean, she's kind of notorious for her breakdowns and wanting to run away, right? And what better place than New York? You can do almost anything you want to, and you can easily disappear in the crowd. Craig's there, too."

He stiffens a bit. "What does that matter? It's not like either of them have feelings for each other anymore."

"Okay, Mr. Defensive. I mean, I would go there too, if I knew I had a friend there."

"How do you even know they're still friends?"

"Seriously, Spinner, calm down. You're acting extremely too involved in this whole thing. I don't know they're still friends; I just guessed. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Well, I don't think she'll go through with it, personally."

"And why's that?"

"Because she has a future here. She doesn't there. Once she realizes that her plans are here, she'll stick around. As much as she's notorious for running away, she's not known for rash decisions."

"That's some deep thinking, Spin."

"I guess that whole idiot reputation is for shit, Manny."

I roll my eyes and giggle. "I guess it is."

"Are you ready? These things always make me antsy to go out and live."

"And what do you mean by live?"

He wraps his arms around me from the back. "I mean taking you somewhere secluded and showing you how much I love you," he whispers. "I mean falling in love with you over and over again. I mean... marrying you."

My head snaps up. "You... want to marry me?"

His voice sounds shaky as he slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket. In his hand is a small gold band with a single, tiny diamond in the center. "Is it too soon to give this to you?"

I gasp and bury my head in his shoulder to hide my tears. "Let's get out of here," I whisper with a voice plagued with sobs and laughs at the same time.

"I'd like nothing more."

"And at your funeral,
I will sing the requiem.
I'd offer you my hand;
It would hurt too much to watch you die."

"What happened with that Isaacs kid?" Jay asks as he sits next to me on his couch.

"Car accident," I say flipping through the paper until I find the obituaries section.

"Oh." He turns on a movie, an Adam Sandler or Jim Carrey one, I forget what he said. "Why didn't you go to the funeral? Aren't you pretty good friends with his sister or whatever?"

I scan the article twice before finally focusing my attention to read it fully. "Eh, we used to be, but it would be weird. And Sean probably went."

I fold up the paper after hearing about his living relatives and all the bull shit that no one really cares about, but can't think of anything else to say. "I have half a mind to kick Cameron's ass again. Show him what it really means when you just decide to fuck dudes, all the sudden."

I stare intently on the television. "Don't do that. It's not his fault that he's bi. It's his fault that he cheated on me with my brother and then got mad when we got together, but it's not his fault that he likes guys."

"Still, it's prick as fuck to cheat on someone like you, Paige."

"I got over it, though," I say kissing his cheek.

He puts his arm around me and I settle into him. "That's good. I don't know if I'd be able to just let it go."

I shrug. "Grudges are so three years ago."

My phone beeps twice, signaling a new text message. I grab it and read it quickly. "What is it?" Jay asks, straining to read the small screen.

"Ashley's moving to New York," I say and flip it closed. "Oh well, good for her."

"And at your funeral I will sing the requiem.
I'd offer you my hand,
It would hurt too much to watch you die."

1- Lyrics to the Song 'Moshi Moshi' by Brand New.