The funeral had passed Lola by in a daze. It was the usual sad state of affairs, with everyone patting each other on the back and offering supportive sentiments. In some ways, funerals offered a very positive viewpoint on society. Love, support, even comradeship. The world really wasn't such a bad place after all. 

Caleb was clearly suffering, and Lola did feel for him. However, she had never been particularly good at the whole talking therapy thing. Mainly because she used humour as a device to deal with her own issues. It worked for her, but it meant that she was dire when it came down to other people. Choosing to fix her eyes on the window, she repeated the words that the man sitting next to her had said.

"Martha. Got it." 

Leaning back into the seat a little, Lola closed her eyes. She really didn't have the energy for being charmingly polite to a room full of strangers'. Plus, she was still sorta' feeling the whole tension thing that was still going on between them. It was just beyond bizarre. Bizarre and exhausting. Subconsciously nibbling on her thumb knuckle, she shot a sideways glance to Caleb.

[i]For the love of god stop it!!![/i]

Surely something, or someone had to give soon? Will power had never been one of Lola's strong points. It would have been quite useful to know what [i]he[/i] was thinking.

[i]He just buried his bestfriend for Christ's sake Lola.[/i]

Letting out an audible groan, the blonde sunk down into the comfortable leather seat of the truck. Why now? Why did it have to hit this kinda' crescendo today of all days? [b]Nightmare.[/b]