I sit up on the bed and wipe my eyes. “It’s okay. What’s up?”
“The Jacobses are on their way. Adam ran to pick up more boxes, so we will be getting on the road as soon as they get here.”
“Okay, I’ll change and be down in five.” I give him a weak smile.
He nods and closes the door behind him.
I shuffle off the bed and place my phone and earbuds on the nightstand next to a photo of Zach, Dani, Emmett and me from this past Thanksgiving, the last time the four of us were all together. I pick up the frame and focus on the smiles on our faces. Will the three of us ever smile like that again? I set the frame down when the tears threaten to break free.
I quickly change my clothes and make my way down the steps the same time the front door opens. I watch as Kelly Jacobs enters the house and walks straight to my mom. She pulls Mom into a tight embrace, holding her up. I am thankful that my mom has a best friend like Kelly to help her through this.
Speaking of best friends, where is mine?
I walk out the front door toward the Jacobs family minivan and see Dani sitting in the back seat staring at our house. She hasn’t been here since before the accident. It’s too hard for her, she says. Sometimes I wonder if she forgets we
’re all going through the same tragedy.
“All set?” Dad asks as I approach my door.
I shrug. All set for what? To pack up my brother’s things? I’m not really sure that is something I can prepare for. I know we don’t have to do this today. Zach said that he didn’t plan to get another roommate and that Em’s belongings could stay as long as we needed them to, but my dad thought this would be a good part of starting the healing process. We all deal with grief differently; being proactive is his way, I guess.
I take a seat next to Dani and buckle my seat belt.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she responds, but doesn’t take her eyes off my house as we pull out onto the road.
Small talk fills the ride. Dani doesn’t add much to the conversation, just blankly stares out the window. Before I know it, we are pulling into the parking space marked for guests. Dad and Adam take empty boxes out of the trunk. Boxes that soon enough will hold the last of my brother’s things. Silence takes over as we make our way to the main entrance.
I notice Dani stopping in front of the empty parking space next to Zach’s Jeep—my brother’s parking spot. My chest begins to tighten, and I see her frozen in place with her eyes squeezed shut. I slowly walk over to her, her eyes still closed, and grab her hand. She jumps slightly, but I try to give her a reassuring nod. She returns a smile, but it quickly fades as she looks over her shoulder at the empty spot. I realize I need to take the lead and begin the walk to the entrance. Her hand remains in mine the entire way to the apartment door. With my best friend by my side, I can get through this.
Today is the first day of my spring semester. I’m supposed to be excited, most likely oversleeping, and quickly grabbing a shitty student union coffee. But here I am standing in our—no, my—fuck. I keep forgetting it’s only my apartment now. So here I am standing in my apartment, drinking coffee out of my mug, having been awake for hours. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days, because all I do is dream about my best friend. I would much rather block out that night than see it playing over in my mind every night.
I walk from the kitchen to the living room to stand in front of the bedroom doors. Mine, I always keep open, but Emmett’s door remains closed. It hasn’t been opened since the rest of the furniture was picked up and taken back to his parents’ house. The day we packed up his things was a hard day for all of us. It was Dani’s first time here since we left for the funeral days after the accident. Emotions ran high, especially when we found a present for her that Emmett never got the chance to give her. The only saving grace that day was seeing my best friend’s obsession with orange Gatorade was worse than we thought—we found a total of thirteen bottles in his room.
I should grab my shit and head to class, but instead, I find myself walking toward the door. I reach for the handle and turn it, then lean against the doorframe and look around the empty room. There is no trace of Emmett anywhere. I close my eyes and can picture the many times I stood in this very spot, giving him shit about my sister or waiting for him to get ready to go to class or a party. Now I stand here, remembering the very last time I did that.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Nothing much. My sister coming up this weekend?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe, my arms and ankles crossed.
Emmett continued to grab a few books off his desk and threw them in his backpack. He clearly wasn’t planning to come with me to the pre-end of semester bash. Any reason to throw a party—it was close to the end of the semester, so shit, why not call it a pre-end of semester bash since we’d have the big end of semester bash after finals?
“Nah, I have to get a jump start on studying for finals so I can head home to see her next weekend. English Lit is kicking my ass, so I’m heading to the library for a study group.”
Well, shit!
“Are you sure? Can’t you take tonight off, dude? Come on—we’re so close to being done with the first fucking semester of college! We need to celebrate that.”
“Ha!” Emmett’s laughter overtook the entire room as he finished packing his bag. He slung it over his shoulder and headed in my direction. “Zach, you’d find a reason to celebrate anything. Someone gets laid—let’s throw a party! Someone breaks a nail—let’s throw a party! Hell, someone farts—let’s throw a fucking party.” He slapped his hand on my shoulder as he walked past me.
“Why don’t you come out for a little bit? Just stop by for a moment, say hello, and then go on to the library.” I followed him into the kitchen.
Emmett reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, opened it, and took a large gulp. He shook his head as he screwed the top back on.
“Not tonight. I gotta get this shit done so I can see my girl next weekend. Why don’t you stop thinking with the tiny head between your legs and start thinking with the head between your shoulders, fuckwad?”
“Woah. Woah. Woah. No need to insult my dick—it’s anything but tiny. And did you just call me the little dude in Shrek?”