Present

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

I SIT STARING at the unopened envelope pinned onto my notice board above the desk in my room. It’s filled with pictures of Emily and me through the years. There are pictures of us from grade school with braces and no front teeth; pictures of us at the mall in one of those photo booths, pulling stupid faces and giving our best pout; stalker pictures of Emily in the halls by Ethan Jamison’s locker, Ethan in the background having no idea we were trying to take pictures of him. I lean back in my desk chair and crack my knuckles, stretching out my arms above my head. I’m going to do it. The thought makes me feel sick and dizzy, I can feel my eyes start to prick with tears. I let out a sigh.

“Get a freaking grip, Blair, it’s just a letter,” I say aloud.

I unpin it from the board, shaking so much that my name in all its purple ink glory is blurring into the pink of the envelope. I want to read it. I need to read it. It’s been haunting me for the past three goddamn months. Only I know, once I finally do open it, that’s it. That’s the last thing I’ll ever have from Emily. I know I need to just do it, but it hurts, it hurts so damn much that I want to scream.

I take a calming breath, roll my shoulders and carefully open the envelope and pull the letter out, sending a ton of pink glitter and purple heart confetti soaring into the air. It rains down over me, covering my desk and bedroom floor. I’m gonna be sparkly for a month. I hate glitter. Emily knew that, it’s no oversight. The thought makes me smile; she knew she’d be pissing me off. I unfold the paper and stare down at her handwriting, attempting to focus on the words.

Blair,

If you’re reading this then I’ve obviously croaked it. Lol! I know it’s not funny but I kinda have to make a joke of it, so that what I’m writing doesn’t feel so real, you know? I’m writing this letter to you after just finishing the one I’ve written for my mom and dad. I need to lighten the mood, so I’m gonna confess something. I can say it now because I’m not here anymore and there’ll be no retaliation. It’s a cheap trick, but you know you love me.

Last year when Corey Spencer asked you out, and then cancelled on you at the last minute, I may or may not have accidentally told him that you used to write Mrs. Blair Spencer and practice your signature at the back of your journal. And I may have also told him that you had your kids’ names picked out already. I know, I know, I totally freaked him out! I thought he’d laugh and tease you about it on your date, but I guess he kinda thought you were a bunny boiler and bailed. Sorry!!!

Okay, so now that I have that off my chest, I need you to do something for me and you can’t say no, because it’s a dying girl’s wish! Yeah, I know, I played the dying BFF card. But please, just think about it.

So, I have a bucket list. Totally morbid and cliché, but never mind. Last year when I was told the cancer wasn’t going away I listed all the things that I wanted to do before I take my Long Sleep. I didn’t tell you or Mom because I wanted something that was just mine, that I’d achieved, and I managed to cross a few of them off. You were actually with me for most of them, but not all of them, and that’s where I need your help.