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I Never Expected You

Page 2

by Stefanie Jenkins


  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?”

  “Beside the point.” He shook his head, laughing.

  I loved our ridiculous conversations. It’d been like this our whole lives. We were more like brothers than friends, or possibly even an old married couple. We loved to mess with each other. Sometimes I felt bad that my sister had to put up with both of our shenanigans.

  “You need to stop dicking around, bro, and find yourself something solid. I know you’re just going there tonight for pussy.”

  “You mean like what you have with my sister?”

  He nodded while I snickered and rolled my eyes. That sort of love wasn’t in the cards for me.

  “Nah, that’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. You guys are your own…” I searched my thoughts to come up with the right word but came up empty-handed. “Well, I don’t even know what you guys are.”

  “Easy pussy eventually gets old.”

  Yeah, like he knew—he’d only ever been with one girl. Gross. I cringed at that thought. This conversation had gone downhill quickly. I walked back to my room to grab my coat and heard him call out to me.

  “Zach, one day, man. One day you’ll find her, and you’ll just know. She’s gonna knock you on your ass.”

  “Yeah, sure, whatever, Em.”

  Emmett opened the front door. “I’ll see ya later, fucker. Don’t forget to wrap it up.”

  I heard the door click shut as my best friend walked out the door—for the last time.

  Fuck, if I’d have known that would be the last conversation I would ever have with my best friend, I would’ve talked about something more meaningful than my sex life. If I had only known, I would have forced him to stay home.

  I reach for the doorknob and exhale a deep breath before closing the door with a little too much force. I’m not sure if I’ve hit the anger stage of grief yet, or if I just don’t know how exactly to express my emotions these days, but I know we’re most likely not getting the security deposit back as I pass the newly spackled hole in the drywall from where I punched the wall a few weeks back. My hand has healed physically, but the wounds I carry on the inside, I’m pretty sure will never go away.

  I look down at my watch and see that I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry up and head to campus. I take one last look around, chewing on the inside of my lip, fighting back the emotion. I could easily say fuck it and skip class, but it’s the first day of classes, and I don’t want to start the semester on the wrong foot or in the professor’s bad graces.

  Look at me, caring about my education. Maybe a little bit of Emmett has rubbed off on me. I place my cup on the counter before grabbing my backpack off the couch and walking out the door.

  I make it to class with about five minutes to spare and grab a seat toward the back in a row that has two empty seats.

  Nope, not going to do this now. Nope. Keep your shit together, Zach.

  I swallow down the emotion that has been trying to break through since I made my way across campus to class. Our entire lives, if Em and I had a class together where we weren’t assigned seats, we would always sit together. I take a seat, needing to push the thoughts of my best friend not being here and all the things he won’t ever get to do away, at least for the time being.

  I am focused on pulling out my textbook and binder when I hear movement to my left.

  “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

  Without even looking up to see who the male voice belongs to, I say, “Nah, it’s all yours, man.”

  “Awesome, thanks.” I hear the sound of the chair moving as the person takes a seat next to me. “Hi. I’m Kyler.”

  I look over at him. He extends his hand. I stare at it for a moment before doing the same.

  “Hey. I’m Zach.”

  Two weeks into the semester, and it’s already kicking my ass. A night out is just what I need. The party animal from last semester is on vacation, possibly permanently. I guess being at a party reverts my mind back to that night. But staying in and getting drunk by myself gets old.

  Kyler Lawson, the transfer student who I met on the first day of the semester, is meeting me here at the apartment. It turns out we’re both communications majors and have most of the same classes. We hit it off pretty well and decided to meet here before heading out to the party.

  I race home after my last class and a long workout in the gym and take a quick shower. After throwing on a pair of jeans and a dark gray Henley, I walk out to the living room and take a seat on the couch. I check the time and see Ky isn’t due to arrive for another fifteen minutes. I decide to check in at home by FaceTiming my sister. I dial her numbe
r and wait.

  The call connects and my sister’s face appears. She’s in her bedroom, and the light is dim, but there is enough for me to be able to see her face is pale and her eyes are rimmed red, the same look she’s had for weeks now.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey. How’s it going?” I ask as I lean back on the couch.

  “It’s all the same, just like the last time you asked yesterday.”

  Dani’s voice is soft and lifeless. It kills me to see my sister in so much pain. I wish she would just talk to me—hell, to anyone. My parents finally convinced her to go to a therapy session, but I don’t know if she’ll open up to them, a complete stranger, when she doesn’t open up to the people who are closest to her.

  “It’s Friday night. Got any plans?”

  “Same thing I do every Friday.” Her tone now becomes harsh.

  Every time I call to check up on her, it’s the same thing. It’s like being on a daily merry-go-round of me trying to get her to open up and she cuts me off. I’m not sure why I expected this to be any different. We’re all hurting. Doesn’t she realize that? I only wish she would open up about it. The thought of my sister always staying home alone instead of enjoying her life makes me hurt to remember the vibrancy that used to live inside her. I don’t even recognize the woman she has become. All I want her to do is to snap out of it and make her realize we all lost someone we loved that day.

  “You know you can always come to visit if you need to get out of the house, right? We could have some brother-sister bonding time. Maybe Haylee would want to come too.”

  She tenses at the mention of her best friend, and my heart breaks a little more. She has shut out the one person who needs her most right now.

  “No.” She holds her hand up and adjusts herself on the bed, making the camera shake. “Zach, stop. I can’t be there, and you know that.” Her voice breaks, and that was not my intention.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I want you to know that I’m here.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I need to go.”

  Before I can say goodbye, she hangs up. I set my phone down on the table and rest my elbows on my knees.

  Running my fingers through my hair, I exhale a breath. “Son of a bitch.”

  I think about calling her back to apologize, but as I reach for my phone, there’s a knock at the door. Perfect timing. I’ll call her tomorrow. I’ll be home next week for Em’s birthday, and hopefully I’ll get some time with her while I’m there for the weekend.

  I open the door and find Kyler standing there looking at his phone. He looks up. “Hey.”

  “Hey, come on in. I need to grab my phone and wallet.” I move to the side and allow Ky to enter the living room.

  I leave Kyler in the living room and run back to my room.

  “Wow, this is a nice place.”

  “Thanks, man. We like it. Moved in last August,” I reply walking back into the living room.

  “We? Oh, you have a roommate.”

  I freeze, not even realizing I said “we” just moments before. That one little word threatens to crush my chest. I adjust the collar on my shirt, feeling as though the heat just kicked on in here. There is no longer a “we”—that is something I am not sure I’ll ever be able to get used to.

  “Yeah. No. Shit, it’s complicated.” I grip the back of my neck, not wanting to get into this now.

  “Recent breakup? That sucks.” Kyler stands there completely oblivious to the emotions boiling inside me, but I swallow it all down and nod.

  “Something like that.”

  Kyler nods, not pressing the subject, thankfully, as we make our way out of the apartment. Will it ever get easy talking about Emmett?

  I need a damn drink.

  Later in the night, the party is packed, and Kyler and I just lost after a four-game winning streak at beer pong. My troubles are pushed aside as the alcohol flows through my veins.

  “Good game, Em.” I slap Kyler’s back and walk away from the kitchen.

  “Who’s Em?” Kyler asks from behind me.

  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?”

  “Oh right, I guess I forget there are people in this world who didn’t know that my sister and Emmett were together. They had been together since they were kids.”

  “Gotcha. That has to be crazy, dating your best friend’s sister.”

  I shrug. “Eh, not really. I mean, it just kind of was always Dani and Emmett.”

  With that, my mind drifts to my sister and the conversation we had earlier.

  I chug the rest of my beer. I look over at Kyler, who looks like he�
�s ready to say something, but I cut him off before he has the chance.

  I look down at my empty cup. “I need a refill. You good?”

  My eyes are burning from the tears fighting to break free, and I push down the emotions currently strangling me. Here I am trying to tell my sister to talk about her feelings, and I can’t even handle talking about it. Talk about a hypocrite.

  He nods, understanding that I need an escape from this conversation. “I’m good, thanks.”

  I push off the wall and make my way to the back porch where the keg is located, running away from Ky and the rest of the conversation as if I had a bull on my tail and I was wearing red. As soon as the fresh air hits my face, I exhale a breath. As I refill my cup, I spot Becca, the blonde who sits in front of me in English Lit, and damn, she has an ass that won’t quit. Her tits are spilling out of her tank top, and I would bet that if I reached my hand up her skirt, I would find that she wasn’t wearing panties either.

  The best way to escape the conversation Kyler and I were having and to avoid it coming back up is to get lost in a coed. And the way Becca is seriously eye-fucking me across the room, not to mention how many times I caught her staring at me while Ky and I were on our hot streak, I would say I’ve found a willing participant.

  As I approach, I notice the girls she’s standing there with. The redhead next to her looks familiar, and she’s looking at me like she knows me, but I can’t place her. Who knows, maybe we had a class together or something.

  “Hey, Becca.”

  “Hey, Zach.”

  My eyes wander over her body. When my eyes meet hers, I realize I’ve been caught. Good thing I wasn’t trying to be sneaky about it. She blushes, and I watch as it goes from her cheeks to her chest. I wonder just how far down it reaches.

  “And who are these beautiful ladies you’re hanging out with?”

 

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