“Hi, it’s Sarah.” My best friend, Sarah, who was usually loud, hysterical, and had an exciting voice, now spoke in a distant mumble, as if it wasn’t really her. “Dude, I don’t have time to talk I have to finish this…” I said. “Pedro Gurrola is dead” she said as if she herself were dead, too. “Huh?” I was sure I hadn’t heard correctly.
“Alex’s dad? Pedro Gurrola? He was killed this morning in his garage,” she explained. “Jeez, that sucks.” I said, trying to focus on my paper. “I’d says it more than sucks. Anyway, all of the youth group is meeting at the church to comfort Alex. I’m really worried about her.” It took me a minute to realize she was suggesting I join too. Still subconsciously stressing about my paper, I excused myself. “Ah…I would go but I really have to finish this paper. I’m not even half way done. “ “Are you serious right now?” She sounded sarcastic as usual, but I took it the wrong way. “I know right!”
“No, not that you idiot. Just come to the church.” She sounded frustrated, so I gave in. “I’ll ask my mom.”
“Okay, you better be there.”
As I walked into the living room, the too familiar sound of my parent’s favorite show, Jeopardy, filled my ears. I looked at my parents, whose eyes were glued to the screen. “Hey Mom, can I go to the church?”
She didn’t take her eyes off the screen.
“Pedro Gurrola is dead-“
“30 seconds, contestants. Good luck!” interrupted Alex Trebek on the TV. “Pedro Gurrola, Alex’s dad, is dead.”I repeated. After I said it, it felt like I was hearing it for...