I SEE A car pull into the drive from my spot on the sofa. It’s a quarter after one and I’m finishing up my calculus homework before I head over to see Emily. My stomach drops as I see the person getting out of the mystery car—Em’s nurse.
I close my laptop and make my way to the front door to greet her, feeling as though I’m on autopilot. My whole body is full of dread as I open the door and make eye contact with a very somber-looking Carla.
“I’m afraid I have some sad news, Blair. Maybe we should go inside so you can sit down.”
I realize I’m just standing in the doorway unable to move; I haven’t even said hello. I’m not sure that I trust my voice not to break if I speak. There’s only one reason she would be here.
My hands immediately start to feel sweaty and a knot forms in my throat, restricting the amount of air I can take in and it feels as if my lungs are about to combust.
“She’s died, hasn't she?”
All I can focus on is that I wasn’t there for her. I was supposed to go see her last night but I had so much schoolwork I put it off until this afternoon. Nurse Carla takes my clammy hand in hers and squeezes ever so slightly, her expression grim and full of sorrow.
“Yes, sweetie, she died yesterday at home where she wanted to be, with her family. I’m so, so sorry, Blair.”
The sob that I've been trying like hell to hold onto is ripped out of me and I gasp for a breath while Carla leads me back into the living room. I feel like I’m about to crumble as I make my way across the room and over to the fireplace mantle that’s decorated with pictures of my best friend and me.
I feel my brain suddenly kick back into gear as I register what she just said.
“She died yesterday, when?” I tense and wait for her answer. My best friend could have been dead for twenty-four hours and I’ve been sitting here reading calculus textbooks none the wiser. I’m so mad but I don’t know where to place my anger, at my math teacher for giving out extra homework, at the Wilson’s for not calling me and letting me know it was time, or at myself. I should have visited her yesterday like I was supposed to. Now it’s too late.
“It was just before midnight, she went peacefully and she wouldn’t have been in any pain.”
I hadn’t even thought about that. I take a deep breath and feel my shoulders relax a little.
“She’s dead,” I say to myself, and then look up into Nurse Carla’s eyes. They're filled with unshed tears. I'm sure this isn't the first time she’s had to deliver this kind of news, but I don't suppose it gets any easier.
I can hear the next-door neighbor’s little girls playing in the yard. They remind me of Emily and me, They’re always laughing, and normally it makes me smile, but today I want to shout at them to stop. There’s no reason to laugh right now, no reason to smile. For them it’s just another day. Not for me, though. I know with absolute certainty that whenever I look back on today, I’ll be reminded of the loss of my best friend. It will all be tucked away neatly in my mind, every last excruciating detail.
“Sweetie, is your mom at work? Should I call her, so she can come be with you?”
I drop my head and squeeze my eyes tight, hoping to stop the steady flow of tears that seem to be escaping despite my best efforts.
“No, I’m fine. There’s no need to call her. I’m eighteen, not twelve, it’s not like I wasn’t expecting Emily to die, I knew it was coming.”
“Just because you were expecting it, Blair, doesn't mean that it won’t still affect you. She was your best friend.” She sighs and carries on. “I told Emily’s mom that I would come and tell you. The Wilson’s are obviously very upset, but Pam wanted me to give you this.”
She holds out a pink envelope, with ‘Blair’ scribbled across the front in purple ink, a heart dotting the I in my name. It’s Emily’s handwriting; if the heart didn't give it away, the purple ink would have. She only wrote in purple—I'm not sure that I ever asked her why, and now I can’t.
I take the envelope from Nurse Carla and thank her for dropping by to tell me. It feels kind of ironic to thank someone for just breaking your heart. I really need her to leave so that I can process what’s happened. She attempts to give me an awkward hug and then sees herself out. I watch her wave from the car as she pulls out of my drive, I’m still frozen to the spot at the fireplace, watching her through the window, sure that my heart will shatter if I move.
Three Months Later