Page 11 of What You Left Me

I killed my best friend.

4

A huge chunk of our graduating class appears to be crowded into this waiting room, huddled in corners, draped over chairs, and banging on vending machines. Not a recognizable debate team, science club, ecology club, or honor society member in sight. I don’t know anyone. I don’t really know Martin either, but I’m here anyway, pulled in by fascination, regret, and avoidance in equal parts.

Everyone wears daytime formal attire, with some still in their yellow robes. Cameron, Aminah, and I look precisely casual. Bonfire chic. As if we need another way to stick out.

“We were texting this morning. It’s so unreal,” says a girl as she cries into her friend’s gown sleeve. She passes her phone around for others to see. “Can you believe he wrote that?You mean so much to me.It’s like he knew something bad would happen.”

The phone ends up in my hands. I scroll up.

Thank you for a great year

Brooke don’t do this

Why can’t I say that?

Whatever.

Happy graduation

See you at the ceremony

Maybe

Brooke come on

You know how I feel

You mean so much to me

But don’t ruin summer because of this

We can still be friends

Like before

“You’re bad!” Aminah says, scrolling up even farther to read more.

“Come on, you guys, have some respect!” Cameron whispers, curt.

“She’s the one passing it around!” Aminah whispers back.

Another person yanks the phone from Aminah, and we all cower a bit. Fear of reprimand. Nothing happens though. The girl who took the phone spends way more time looking it over than we did. She, like me, like everyone else, wants to know another side of Martin, Marty, Fly, whoever he is. Wants a good story to share years down the line, should it turn out that he really died on graduation day.

• • •

Whoa.

For a flicker, I was back in the White Whale with Spitty. It wasn’t like here, where I’m in a blink, but it wasn’t like real life either. Everything blurred and changed. Something crushed me, then rewound, then crushed again, then disappeared. Sound polluted my mind with buzzing and blaring and sobbing.

Then it was beautiful, sunny, and warm, and I grabbed at the air.

Then something crushed me again.

Every moment came and went as quick as a clap of hands. Too fast for me to process.

I know all of it happened to me, but it wasn’t quite mine somehow. It was like I lived my part in it through someone else’s—Spitty’s?—perspective.