I knew, but I was not ready to think about it.
I must have been sitting there for nearly an hour when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"Quinn, I had to call. How are you?"
"Darla? Hi. I don't know. I survived," I said. I pulled myself off the floor and wandered around the room as we talked. "How are things on campus?"
"Crazy. There were about a dozen memorials for Sienna today. The administration has gone into hyper speed about mental health. I swear to God they would screen us all if they could. There's even talk of a suicide prevention team being formed. They want you to be a part of it. I actually had to explain to them why today was not a good day to call and discuss it," Darla said.
"How am I supposed to come back?" I groaned. "Owen was right, maybe now is a good time to take a break and find out what I really want to do."
"Owen?" Darla asked. "Yes, of course he was at the funeral."
"I hid out in the basement playing video games. He found me and we hung out. It was just like old times."
"Old times like when you had a mad crush on him? Like when he was flirting with you but dating your sister?" Darla asked.
"Exactly," I said.
She sighed. "Well, at least that got a little smile out of you. I heard it."
"I know, I know, but it was really great. He's the only one I can actually talk to around here."
"And it doesn't hurt that he's a 6 foot, blue-eyed, blond that's built like a Norse god," Darla said. "I'd let him comfort me anytime."
"Want to know something weird?" I asked. "My mother was crazy today and trying to place the blame on Owen. While she was ranting at him, she said the strangest thing. She said everyone knew about Owen and me. Sienna even knew how well we got along and she encouraged Owen to hang out with me."
"Well, she did only use him as eye candy," Darla said. "Maybe your sister realized you two share something a little deeper."
"But she still dated him."
"Was your sister ever any good at sharing?" Darla asked. "Sorry."
"No, it's good. Owen and I spent all day listening to memories of Sienna that had passed through a perfecting lens. No one wanted to remember that she was real," I said. I flopped back on my bed. "I don't want my sister to be a saint. I just want to remember my actual sister."
"Oh, Quinn, I'm so sorry. You and Sienna loved each other. Sisters don't always get along, sisters don't always share, and sisters certainly don't take it easy on each other. No one knew her like you."
"Thanks, Darla. I'll be back on campus soon," I said. We said our goodbyes and I hung up.
Darla was right. I knew Sienna better than anyone. And now that I thought about it, she had always talked about Owen and me together. She had talked to me about movies Owen and I would like, stores we should visit, and places we should go. Sometimes she sent us off together while she was busy. At the time I would be embarrassed, thinking she was using Owen to babysit me, but now I wondered.
My thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the window. It was followed by a smattering of clicks, pebbles hitting the glass. I pulled myself off my bed and went to the window. Owen waved from the lawn and pointed to the kitchen door.
It was the way he used to sneak into the house during high school. I turned and tiptoed down to the kitchen to let him in. I warned him not to say a thing. We slipped along the hallway and down the basement to the safety of the old leather sofa.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay. I drove to the cemetery. I didn't join everyone at the graveside, but I was there. You didn't look like you were doing too good," Owen said.
I rubbed my forehead again. "It, it was a tough drive there and back."
"Your parents? I figured."
For a moment, I thought he was going to pull me into a hug, but Owen hesitated and I took a step back. Instead, he sat down on the sofa and opened the backpack he had brought with him.
"I realized I still had some things of Sienna's that I thought you might want back," Owen said. He pulled out a dog-eared copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
I laughed and took it from him. "This is mine. My favorite book," I said.
Owen smiled. "Yeah, that makes more sense. I remember making Sienna read it before we watched the movie, but she was not into it."
"I remember," I said. "Sienna ended up inviting cheerleaders over and making pep rally signs. She sent me downstairs and you started the movie over so I could watch too."
"Well, here's what else I found," Owen said.
I sifted through the few articles he dumped on the sofa between us. "My constellation map. I wondered where this went."
"Sienna gave it to me after the meteor shower last year," Owen said. "I didn't know it was yours."
"Actually, so is the CD mix," I said.
"I loved that mix. I always wondered how Sienna got all the songs. Not really her type of music," he said. "Sorry. This was supposed to help you remember your sister."
I took his hand and squeezed. "But it did! Much more than the rest of today. Sienna knew we liked the same things and she wanted to give you things you liked, so she gave you my stuff."
Owen smiled. "Yeah, Sienna always figured out how to remove the guesswork from anything."
We sat for a moment, and I was happy to finally be remembering my sister for who she was. When I realized I was still holding Owen's hand, the heat went directly to my cheeks.
"Sorry," I said.
"It’s okay, Quinn," Owen said. He moved closer and took my hand again. "Don't you ever think Sienna might have wanted this? She was always matching us up, always putting us together."
"Then why were you dating?"
"Sienna wanted a high school sweetheart. Those stories don't include breaking up freshman year and spending the rest of high school trying to find someone else," Owen said.
"You wanted to break up freshman year?"
"It was pretty easy to discover that Sienna and I did not like the same things," he shrugged.
"Then why were you dating Sienna?" I asked. I thought about my beautiful, perfect sister and my cheeks flared even hotter. "Never mind."
"No, Quinn, it wasn't like that. Sienna made things easy for me. I'm not a joiner, I don't like being in the middle of things. I never would have experienced half of high school if it wasn't for her. I would have been down here." He looked around our basement family room.
"With me?"
I was not ready when Owen looked back. His blue eyes were too bright, his grip on my hand too warm and tight. He leaned forward and the nearer he came, the less breath I was able to capture. I sat airless and in the vacuum hope, excitement, and fear fought. We couldn't do this, could we?
"Quinn? Are you down there again?"
"Father?" I asked. I dropped Owen's hand as if it had burned me.
"We're going to order a pizza. Come up and join us," my father said.
I thought about all the food from the funeral and realized the thought of it turned my stomach as well. I had hardly eaten all day and pizza sounded good. Even though all my father's invitations sounded like orders.