Grim and Bear It

Rule #4: Off-hours are to be spent in the reaper world and not in the human world.

- The Reaper Code of Ethics, official handbook. Poppy

I was basically the FedEx of death. DeadEx, if you will. My job seven days a week, nearly eighteen hours a day, was to ferry souls from the human world to the afterlife. I was a cog in the corporate afterlife. Well, technically I'd become a reaper at sixteen, so I'd never had a corporate job, but based solely on my memory of Dolly Parton's catchy song "9 to 5," this felt like the equivalent.

Except I didn't actually get any currency in exchange for my labor. Only chronic seasickness and moderate depression. And, if you asked my sister Sylvia, "too much snark." As if such a thing even existed.

Most grim reapers, especially my siblings, were obsessed with all things gruesome and deadly, but to me, it was just a dead-end job (pun intended). However, death was a family business, and I was one of four kids. Death was my birthright. I was obsessed with weddings. More accurately, I was in love with love. Death was fine, but so dark and commonplace. Everyone died, and then it was my job to escort them-usually kicking and screaming to the afterlife.

But love, true love, was rare. It was golden and glittery, like champagne. I could no longer consume food, but back in my human days, my friend Eliza and I had snuck a bottle of champagne into our cabin at summer camp. Our cabin-mate swore the fizzy drink tasted like love felt.

I'd only had three sips, but she'd been right. The bubbles on my tongue matched the way my heart burst whenever I was around Eliza's older brother, Jake. We weren't allowed to be together because of an almost two year age difference both sets of parents had made that very clear-but Eliza was on our side and wanted me as her sister. Besides, I was supposed to have time to grow up, graduate, and start over with Jake somewhere else.

Time that I ended up not having. Not while alive, anyway. I had all the time in the world now that I was dead.

My great-grandma had been the last person called to be a reaper, and she had been in her late sixties. They hadn't called my grandparents yet, and anyway I had still been in high school. They rarely pulled kids, wanting us to grow up and live a little, get married, reproduce, and make more reapers. Nepotism at its finest.

I had been sixteen, full of dreams, and out of school for the summer. It had been sweaty days lying by the neighborhood pool with Eliza in matching pink bikinis, Jake beside us. It was the feel of wet skin on skin as I ignored the lifeguards and jumped on Jake's back, dunking him. It was sitting next to him in the passenger seat-at Eliza's insistence while he drove us around. I was mesmerized by the easy way he handled the car. It was his tanned forearms, his long fingers wrapped around the wheel, the music playing with the windows down, the flash of his smile when I said something funny, his sunglasses reflecting my own smile back. It was his pinky finger wrapping around mine.

It was slipping out my window to the tree house as soon as our parents went to bed. It was curling into Jake's arms the moment he climbed in beside me, the butterflies in my stomach as we stared at each other, nearly nose to nose. It was whispered promises that in just a few more years, we'd both be over eighteen and could be together despite our parents' objections. It was the way he held my face in his hands as if I were precious, the way he'd ask, kiss me? It was those rare, secret moments, just before dawn, when our kisses grew more heated and he made me see stars behind my eyes with clever hands and soft lips.

It was long summer days looking online at colleges with Eliza, debating how we'd decorate our shared dorm room. It was whispered confessions that we didn't only like boys, and rainbow stickers on our cheeks during the town's Pride parade. It was that summer-camp-champagne-hazy plan to be neighbors when Jake and I finally grew up and got married.

And then August came.

"Poppy!" My older sister, Sylvia, whispered, interrupting my reminiscing. I jumped, still easily startled even though I was dead. "I was waiting for you! Why are you watching some wedding in Applechester?" She made a face. "And what's your obsession with this old house? It stopped being cool when we were like ten."

I sighed in exasperation. I only had six personal hours a day and I absolutely hated it when someone interrupted me. Even my siblings. I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the ceremony, a reflex. No one could see or hear us. No one human, anyway. "Just let me watch them say their vows. Death isn't going anywhere."

"Ugh you're so gross."

"Says the woman who likes to watch people die."

"Says the woman watching a stranger's wedding. And on a Sunday. Who has a wedding on a Sunday?"

"Sundays are cheaper."

She crossed her arms and pouted, then pulled up the hood of her dark purple cloak, a reaper staple. I had covered my cuffs in sequins just to make it flashy. "Fine," she caved. "Get all mushy, just don't be late." "I'm never late."

She rolled her eyes. She was ten years older than me and still found me and my rule following exasperating, even in death. With a huff, she waved and disappeared, likely going to enjoy watching the last moments before someone died. I was glad she left before she got a good look around, because if she had, she'd know that I wasn't exactly following the rules. I brushed my hood down and inched closer to the ceremony just as the beautiful brunette woman in a simple ivory gown met the man at the end of the aisle. When the audience sat down, my old friends were standing there.

If I had a beating heart, it would've somersaulted. Jake was next to Eliza, wearing gray suit pants and a light blue tie, but no coat. His white shirt hugged his biceps, his hair just a little longer than he usually wore it. God, he looked even better than last week.

He shifted his weight so he leaned heavier on his cane. His jaw tightened for a brief moment, and I wished I could do something to ease his pain. My chest cavity ached with echoes of emotion as I watched Eliza wipe away a tear with her thumb while smiling, and Jake pull two gold bands from his pocket to give to Magnolia, his stepmom, who was officiating. They all looked happy. Good.

I scanned the crowd for Eliza's daughter, Daisy, who was sitting in the front row, leaning on the edge of her seat. She was so big now, maybe eight or nine. She smiled huge, her eyes wide as she watched the ceremony. She was the spitting image of her mom at the same age. I wished I could be her favorite aunt, tell her silly bedtime stories, take her to concerts when she got older, help celebrate all her milestones.

I wished, I wished, I wished...

Sebastian looked over his shoulder at me and touched the air where the brim of his top hat typically sat, although he'd taken it off for the ceremony. I nodded at him, and smiled at Reggie, who had his arm around Clint. I took a step back, preparing to disappear as soon as the couple walked back down the aisle. This time, I had to stay away for longer. I'd visited three times this month, and that was just too risky.

If I ever got caught, I would be permanently removed from duty. In the bad way. Sentencing ranged from working a desk job inside a reaper building, meaning no returning to the human world ever again, to being banished to Isle of Exile, where I would be removed from existence by a soul-hungry creature. Neither of those options seemed like a party.

To be fair, outside of Sylvia, it was unlikely someone would even bother to check on me. I was the "good kid." The one who always followed the rules and did as she was told, with the exception of my love for Jake. He had been mine since he was eight and I was six.

We had just moved in next door and he and Eliza came by to invite us to play in their treehouse. I'd nearly fallen down the ladder, but he had caught me. Twenty-two years later and my death had changed nothing. I was still in love with him. I would give all of eternity to spend one more human day with them. Everything to hug Eliza. Everything to kiss Jake. Everything to redo my last living memory with them, when I'd chickened out on saying good-bye.

We'd been in this house, this same room, only twelve years ago. Jake had walked over to me and held out his hand and said, "Dance with me."

I had been powerless to do anything but slide my palm against his. He pulled me into him and slipped his arm around my waist, whispering the song lyrics against the top of my head. We weren't even standing close enough for it to be called a hug, yet sparks cascaded between my chest and stomach. I closed my eyes, memorizing the moment.

Tomorrow wouldn't come. Not for me. My dads had gotten the call and our time was up. At midnight tonight, just like Cinderella, my magical life ended. Tomorrow, I'd wake up as a reaper, joining the family business at sixteen.

I wish they hadn't told me, that they had let me be the carefree, silly girl for one last night. The girl who would've shouted the lyrics to "Sweet Caroline" without pausing because she was fighting tears. Who wouldn't be staring at my best friends throughout the entire day, trying to memorize their laughs and smiles.

"What's wrong, love?" Jake asked, his lips so close to my ear, I could feel the heat of his breath.

"Nothing."

He squeezed my hand and twirled me, then brought me back in closer. "You're a terrible liar."

I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling, but no amount of willpower kept a tear from leaking. Without saying a word, he maneuvered us to the side of the dance floor and out the patio doors. He dropped his arms and grabbed my hand, tugging us to the side of the patio. We were still in partial view, but a few carefully placed bushes lent us some privacy.

"Seriously, what's going on?"

I shook my head. I couldn't-and wouldn't tell him. "Had a fight with my dads," I said instead. It wasn't a lie; I had screamed at them until my throat ached, then cried for hours. Only a cool cloth over my eyes and carefully applied makeup had covered up the swelling.

"Bad?"

I nodded. "Really bad." I tried to wipe the wet away with the back of my hands, but it kept coming. "We're..." dying "moving."

He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled me into his arms. "Eliza and I both have driver's licenses. We'll figure it out. Only a year and a half, love, and it's you and me, okay?"

Yes, please, yes. I just shook my head against his chest. "It's really far away."

"Poppy, you're breaking my heart," he whispered. "What can I do to help?"

I covered my face with my hands and sobbed.

He rubbed my back, swaying us back and forth. "I love you," he whispered. "We'll figure this out, okay?"

I didn't even bother to nod. There was nothing to figure out. I was going to be dead, and he wasn't going to be there. I don't know how long we stood like that maybe a minute, maybe an hour-but we didn't move until Eliza called for us. "We'll be right there!" Jake called. "Poppy just needed some air." He pulled back and brushed my hands away from my face, tilting my chin up. "You gotta stop crying unless you want twenty questions from Eliza." "I don't know h-how."

He leaned toward me, his eyes never moving from mine. "Kiss me."

My stomach plummeted through my body, the ground, the center of the earth. "What? In public?" We only ever kissed in the dark, in secret moments or underneath blankets.

Of course, what did it matter? What were my parents going to do if they saw us? Punish me until I died? Ha!

"Kiss me," he repeated in a low voice. A command not a question.

In that moment, only two and a half hours before my time as a human was washed away, I couldn't think of a single thing I wanted to do more than kiss this man. I forgot all about my tears and wrapped my arms around his neck. His nose bumped mine and I tilted my chin higher, brushing his lips with my own. It was an innocent embrace, him holding still as I pressed my mouth to his a second time, a third. A fourth. Tingles chased down my arms and chest, filling me with curls of heat.

When I pulled away, his lips chased mine for one more kiss, then another. My entire world narrowed down to that moment. Him and me, kissing under the stars on a warm summer evening. His arms held me tighter, and his tongue flicked over my lips, making me gasp. I deepened the kiss, trying to prolong the moment.

Jake wasn't my first kiss-that honor went to Mazy Kline at summer camp-but he was my favorite. And my last. And it was perfect. His tongue brushed my lower lip and then was gone, his head lifting and turning toward the party. "Someone's coming."

He let go of me, smoothed down my hair, and took a giant step away. My fingers went to my mouth, as if I could hold the feel of him there for eternity. I dropped my hand when Eliza bounced around the topiaries. "Uh, pretty sure Mom saw you-" She stopped short and looked between us. "What's wrong?"

"Had a fight with my dads. I'm fine now." I linked my arm through hers. "Let's go see if there's more cake."

She shot Jake a look, then hesitantly agreed. As we walked away, I looked back at Jake. Thank you, I mouthed. Somehow, inexplicably, his kiss had made me stop crying. He smiled at me and put his hands in his pockets.

My dads had forced us to leave the moment Eliza and I had walked back in, confirming we had been caught. That kiss was the last moment I ever saw Jake when I was alive. It was amazing how much the memory still hurt twelve years later. It was time to go. Being here today, in this house, with these people was too much. "Until next time, friends," I whispered, then turned around and headed down a hallway toward the kitchen. There was a creek behind the venue that would transport me to my next location. Flowing water always helped.

"This isn't a costume party."

Jake. Icy dread froze me in place. If I still had a stomach, it would have tumbled out of my body and through the center of the earth. "No," I breathed.

Something was happening in my chest. I didn't need to breathe, didn't have a heartbeat, but somehow I couldn't get enough air. I was suffocating. I sucked in a gasp, atmospheric dread crashing down on me.

No. No, no, no. Surely the universe wasn't this cruel, wouldn't make me take the soul of someone I cared for more than myself. I thought I had been hopeless the day I had crawled into my bed, knowing I wouldn't wake up again. This was

worse.

"Who are you here for, Reaper?"

If he could see me, it meant he was on borrowed time. It meant I'd be back for him, even if he wasn't on my list today. It meant his days living were numbered, likely weeks at most. If I could cry, I would have burst into tears.

"You can see me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I hadn't dared to turn around.

He grabbed my wrist, and I sucked in a breath at the touch, at the heat of his skin against mine. He shouldn't be able to touch me, but he shouldn't be able to see me, either. He was so warm. He tugged me to face him, paused, then stumbled back. "Poppy?" His voice cracked with emotion.

I took in his stricken face, his beautiful blue eyes, his parted lips. I could never come back here, never see him again. Even if they asked me to take his soul, I knew in that moment I couldn't do it. This was it. Our final good-bye. "I'm sorry, Jake." I closed my eyes and disappeared.