Killing Britney by Sean Olin Read Free Book Online Page B

after her mother had died.

nine
    Instead of holding Ricky’s memorial in the auditorium of La Follette High School, which was what had been done for Sabrina Reynolds and Danny Boyle, Mr. Bucholtz, the principal, let the whole school out on Wednesday to attend his funeral in St. Matthew’s Church.
    St. Matthew’s was a cavernous building made of yellow sandstone and designed with lots of ornate arches and an elaborately carved wooden pulpit. Large, brightly colored tapestries illustrating the fruits of the spirit hung on the walls, interspersed with stained glass windows, each one dedicated to a different apostle.
    Ricky’s casket was displayed on the dais. It was closed—the force of the impact and the unfortunate way he’d been dragged down the street by the truck had left his body a bloody pulp. His hockey jersey was draped over one end of the casket, and his helmet had been placed over the spot above his head. With this visual clue, Britney could imagine his body inside, cut and bruised and broken. On either side of the casket, two beautiful bouquets of white lilies had been set up.
    Britney and her father sat in the front row with Donna Piekowski, Ricky’s mother, and his grandparents. His father, Jeff, wasn’t there. He and Donna had been high school sweethearts, and she’d gotten pregnant in her junior year. Instead of finishing, she’d dropped out of school and they’d gotten married. When Ricky was four, though, his father had run off to Arizona, leaving his mother to raise him alone. Living with single parents was one of the first things he and Britney had connected over.
    Like all Ricky’s friends, Britney called his mother Donna. She was only thirty-three years old, but with her streaky blond feathered hair and heavily applied eyeliner, she looked older. She had crow’s-feet around her eyes, and her loose off-white blouse and black knee-length skirt hung awkwardly from her body. Even though she was sitting down, she kept fidgeting with the heels of her black stilettos.
    Britney felt sorry for Donna. Every time Father Steiger mentioned Ricky’s name, Donna sighed loudly and her bald hawkish father shot her a scornful look. She squirmed under his gaze like a child. To make up for this and let her know that she wasn’t as alone as she thought she was, Britney held her hand throughout the ceremony.
    Watching the mascara streak down Donna’s face helped Britney remember the pact she’d made with herself. This morning, as she’d put on her conservative black flower-print dress, Britney had looked at herself in the mirror and said out loud, “Don’t be afraid to cry. Today you should be strong and remember the good times, but if ever there was a time and place for tears, this is it…. This is what funerals are for.” She hadn’t cried so far, though; she felt too numb. And she’d already handed almost all the tissues from the travel pack she’dStinger brought along over to Ricky’s mom.
    After Father Steiger’s opening eulogy, there were a variety of speeches.
    Mr. Luddy, the hockey coach, went first, describing in short, terse sentences what it felt like the first time he saw Ricky skate, back when he was in sixth grade. “Here was this half-pint of a kid, and who woulda known, he actually had the stuff. Boy, did he ever. He could stop on a dime and his face had this toughness, like he’d mutilate anyone who got in his way. Right then and there, I said to Paul Taube, that kid’s going to be unbelievable. I don’t care if he’s only twelve. He’s gonna start for the JV crew.”
    Mr. Luddy’s face gradually turned a bright red and as his speech went on, it seemed to Britney that he wasn’t so much mourning Ricky’s death as he was mourning the death of his team’s chances of winning state again this season.
    Next it was Troy’s turn. He told a variety of anecdotes. The time his car broke down fifty miles out in the country in the middle of a snowstorm and Ricky drove out to give him a