“I’m fine,” I said.
Ana is dead because of me. The words flashed unbidden through my mind, and my body gave an involuntary shudder. Rad stood there for a minute or so, his gaze fixed steadily on me. It was the first time we had ever stood face-to-face, and I noticed that the color of his eyes didn’t quite match. One was a stormy gray, the other a summer blue.
“Do you want a glass of water?” he asked.
“No, thanks,” I said. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, and the sharp pain gave my mind a much-needed diversion. We stood like that for a while, until my breathing began to steady. Rad looked relieved.
“Did you go to school with Ana?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Were you close to her?”
“No,” I said. “Not really.”
He turned away from me, looking skyward and sighing deeply.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied.
“Do you believe in heaven?”
I looked at him, a little taken aback.
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully, with a small shake of my head. “I believe there is something, though.”
“How do you know for sure?” he asked.
“It’s a feeling, I suppose.”
“A feeling?”
“Yeah, kind of like . . .” I paused, searching for the right word. “Like intuition,” I said finally.
He nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.”
He was quiet for a few moments, and then he turned to look at me, his eyes level with mine.
“What about hell?”
I felt my heart seize in my chest. For one irrational moment, I thought, He knows about the lie. But then I realized it was just my own paranoia.
“Yes,” I said, thinking back to my panic attack the other night. “I believe there’s a hell.”
There was a loud crash that came from inside the house, and we turned our heads in unison.
“What was that?” asked Rad.
“I don’t know. We should go back inside.”
The living room was a mess. The table was overturned, and there were plates of food scattered across the floor. Ana’s dad was standing amidst the chaos, one hand cradled protectively over his left cheek, a trickle of blood running from the side of his mouth. Everyone watched in stunned silence as Ana’s uncle stood with his fist partly raised, his face twisted with rage.
“You sick fuck!” he snarled. “She was a child, for Chrissake!” He was about to throw another punch when Ana’s mother pulled him back.
“Stop it!” she screamed, stepping between them.
“Why didn’t you stop him, Mia?” he said spinning around to face her. “You must have known what was going on.”
She shook her head helplessly. “I didn’t know,” she whispered.
Ana’s dad turned to face her, his eyes filled with despair. “Mia,” he said helplessly. “You know I never touched our daughter—”
She shook her head in disgust. “Don’t you dare talk to me,” she hissed, before turning on her heel and striding away.
There was a tense silence in the room, broken only when someone began to pick up the shattered plates. Quiet murmurs floated from all directions as Ana’s mother was led up the stairs by a pair of somber-faced relatives. With his head bowed and averted from everyone’s gaze, Ana’s dad turned and left the room.
I glanced at Rad and knew that the look of horror on his face mirrored my own—although for different reasons.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered under his breath.
Outside, the sky was a dark, moody blue. There was a strip of orange along the horizon, one rolling spark of flame the impending night would soon extinguish.
“Want to go for a drive?” asked Rad.
“Okay.”
We walked to his car, a white sedan, which was parked across the street. I got into the passenger seat. There was a small tear in the upholstery, and I ran my fingers over it, thinking about the countless number of times Ana must have sat there. A flash of guilt opened me up like a fresh, gaping wound.
Rad got into the driver’s seat beside me and shut the door behind him. The silence between us was comfortable despite the strange turn of events that led us there. As we pulled away from the curb, I turned my head back for one last look at Ana’s house and could just barely make out her dad sitting bent over on the porch step, the light from the end of his cigarette glowing pitifully against the graying sky.
“Are you hungry?” asked Rad. We had been driving aimlessly for the last ten minutes through the suburban streets. We barely said a word the whole time, but it was a companionable silence.
“A little,” I admitted. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate.
“There’s a burger place nearby called Alfie’s Kitchen. Have you heard of it?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“It’s a hole in the wall. They only serve one type of burger, but it’s pretty damn good. And their strawberry milkshake is the best thing in the world. What do you think?”
“Sounds good,” I said.
Alfie’s Kitchen was a small beachfront kiosk that sat atop a grassy hill. Like Rad had mentioned, the place looked unassuming, but the crowd of people waiting to be served suggested there was something special about the place. A canvas awning the color of sandstone extended from the brick front, casting a block of shadow over the sprawling lawn where a number of plastic tables and seats were scattered across the patchy grass. A girl in a crisp white uniform and bouncy ponytail stood behind the counter, taking orders while two chefs behind her worked away in the busy kitchen. The air was filled with the rich smell of fried onions and the sound of sizzling patties. As we progressed farther in the queue, I noticed several photographs of celebrities taped to the sides of the walls, burgers clutched triumphantly in their hands and grins plastered across their faces.
By the time we got our meals, the tables were all taken, so we made our way over to an empty park bench a short walk away. The bench sat near the edge of a rocky cliff and overlooked the ocean. The sky was growing dimmer by the minute, and aside from the crowd in the distance, we were now alone. Toward the horizon, a man was preparing to launch a large multicolored kite into the sky. “I come here pretty often,” said Rad, sitting down on the park bench.
“Yeah?” I said, sitting beside him.
“The light is beautiful this time of day, especially during the summer. The sunsets go on forever.”
“It’s nice here,” I agreed, pulling my burger from its brown paper wrapper.
I didn’t realize just how hungry I was until I took the first bite.
“Strange day, huh?” he said, taking a sip of his milkshake.
“Yeah,” I agreed. I felt queasy all of a sudden and put my burger down on the bench. My fingers gripped the wooden slats.
“Are you okay?” Rad asked. He put his burger down too and turned to face me.
“I’m okay,” I said, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “It just occurred to me that I’ve never known anyone who’s died before except my granddad, but I was just a kid at the time.”
“Me too,” said Rad quietly. For a moment, he had a faraway look in his eyes, and then he shuddered as though shaking off a memory. “Hey.” He turned to me. “Can we make a deal?”
“What kind of deal?”
“Let’s not talk about Ana tonight. The last few days have been a nightmare, and I just want to feel normal again. Even if it’s only for a few hours.” His eyes looked into mine. “Is that okay?” He extended his hand to me.
“Yeah,” I said, secretly relieved. I took his hand, and we shook on it. I noticed the strange coloring of his eyes again. I wanted to ask him about them but wasn’t sure how to bring it up without sounding rude.