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I quickly turn around to face him. The air leaves my lungs as if someone has just punched me in the gut. My throat goes dry, and the beer and shots I’ve consumed tonight threaten to come back up.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Did I hear him correctly?
“Who’s Em? You just said, ‘Good game, Em.’ Who’s Em?” Fuck.
“Oh shit. Did I? I didn’t even realize that.” I slam back against the wall.
I close my eyes and try to even out my breathing. The room, all of a sudden, got warmer, and I run my sweaty palms up and down the outside of my thighs. Now is not the time for an anxiety attack.
“You okay, Zach? Your face just went super pale. Please don’t tell me you’re gonna get sick.”
“Nah. I’m okay.” That’s the biggest lie I have ever told. I’m far from okay.
“So, who’s Em? Your ex? Guess it was a super-fresh breakup, huh?” Kyler asks, leaning up against the wall next to me. He slowly sips out of his red Solo cup.
I know he’s not asking to be cruel. He’s new this semester, so it’s not like he would’ve known Emmett or was friends with him. Well, I figured we would have to have this talk eventually if he and I were going to be friends. I just didn’t think it would be like this, and at a party no less. He let the roommate conversation slide earlier, but me calling him Em…yeah, I probably wouldn’t give that up either.
I look down at my feet, shuffling them around. To the unknown person, I might seem drunk, but I sobered up pretty quickly when I realized what I called him. I debate telling him the truth or trying to avoid it again and save this for a different time, but in the short amount of time that Kyler and I have known each other, I’ve realized that we could actually be good friends, and part of me wants to be honest with him. So that’s what I do. I take a deep breath and start talking.
“Em’s not my ex.”
“Fuck buddy? I totally get it.”
“He…”
“Oh shit, sorry. Hey, I don’t judge.” Wait, what?
I wave my hands. “What? Nothing like that. I definitely like girls.”
“Well then, what is it?”
Why is this so hard? Just spit it out, Zach.
“He’s my best friend…” I say out a little louder than anticipated.
Kyler is taken aback by my unexpected volume, sheer confusion written all over his face.
“Was my best friend.”
I need to remember that simple term—was. “Emmett and I were best friends since birth. He attended here last semester and was my roommate. That’s who I was talking about earlier when I said the whole roommate situation was complicated.”
Just say it. You can do this.
“Oh, did he transfer somewhere else?”
I shake my head. All words seem to have left my body. This conversation is happening now, so I take a sip of my beer, needing the liquid courage.
“He died.”
I can see Kyler out of the corner of my eye. His eyes are wide, and shock is written all over his face.
“I-I-I don’t know what to say, man. Shit, I’m sorry, man.”
Well, that makes two of us.
I grip the back of my neck and continue. “Em was in an accident in December, leaving the library just before finals. My sister came to surprise him with her acceptance letter…”
“Wait,” he interrupts, holding his hand up. “Why was she coming to see him and not you?”
