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He holds his hands out to the side. “I’m here now.”
I blow out a harsh breath. This is absolutely insane. How am I sitting here with my best friend—my dead best friend?
“Fuck, I miss you, man. Why did you have to die?”
Tanner swallows thickly and stares off into the distance. I guess he doesn’t even have the answer for that.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye. There’s this void right here.” I place my hand over my heart, which is beating erratically in my chest. “You should be here.”
“Remember what you used to say to Riley after the game?”
“She’s always with me in my heart.”
“As am I.” He goes silent for a moment, and I try to think of all the things I wish we could talk about, so instead, we just sit soaking up the silence. “I miss you, too, buddy.” Tanner’s voice is faint, as if blowing in the wind.
“Don’t go,” I plead. It wasn’t enough time. “Please come back.”
A foot nudges my own, and I jolt upward. When I open my eyes, a shadow blocks out the sunlight as they stand in front of me.
“Cooper,” a low-pitched voice calls. This time, the voice doesn’t belong to my dead best friend, but I still know that voice.
I blink rapidly until my vision finally becomes clearer, and the dark shadow turns into none other than Coach Benson. He’s looking frailer than before. The strong man I know is slowly slipping away, right in front of my eyes.
Glancing from side to side, I grip the back of my neck, wondering if that was all just a dream. I mean, it had to be, right?
“You okay? Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost, son. I mean, then again, we are in a cemetery.”
Haven’t I? How do I say I just had a conversation with my dead best friend without the men in white coats coming to pick me up?
Shaking the thoughts from my head because I’m clearly losing it, I rise to my feet. “What are you doing here?”
“Making a reservation,” he says so blankly.
“Jesus.” I exhale a harsh breath.
“Nope, not Jesus. Just Verne.”
“Seriously, Coach?” I quirk a brow.
“Now, Cooper. I just found you sleeping here.” He circles his pointer finger in the air. “I’m not sure you have any room to judge.”
“No, I’m not judging. It’s just—” I fumble for words. Maybe it’s all the haze in my head right now that is still processing what just happened. I clear my throat. “It’s just how can you joke?”
Coach shrugs. “Son, if I can’t joke about it, what can I do? This isn’t something I can stop. I prefer to deal with death through humor and watch the others around me smile while you deal with it by, what.” He tilts his head to the side and circles his hands as if using them to conjure up the right word. “Sleeping with the dead? Come on, walk with me.”
I grab the scrapbook and place it under my arm before walking to Coach’s side, and we make our way over to the bench a few feet away.
“So what are youreallydoing here, Cooper?”
“I, um—” I stutter as I take my hat off my head and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. As I exhale a steady breath, I focus on the Knights’ logo on the hat. “I just needed a moment.”
“Needed lots of moments lately since you returned, huh?”
My head whips to the side, and my eyes narrow in question. “How do you know that?”
“I might be old, but I’m not dead yet. And—” He smirks at his poor joke. “—Ellie and I ran into your parents at the grocery store the other day. They may have mentioned it when your mama thanked me for giving you the opportunity. How’s that going, by the way?”
Smooth transition from one subject to the other.
