When he stopped, he looked so deep into my eyes that I was sure he could see my soul. I didn’t know what to say; all I could think was that I hoped he never stopped calling me butterfly. I wanted to kiss him and I was pretty sure that he wanted to kiss me, but neither of us were brave enough to make the first move, neither of us strong enough individually to put our pride and fears aside. So we continued to deny ourselves a chance at our fairy tale and instead, we settled, miserably, for friendship.
“I need a drink, do you want something?” I was somewhat relieved that he found his voice as he got off the bed and headed for his door. I was the worst kind of weak—I wasn’t strong enough to put myself out there for him, for a chance at us, but I also wasn’t strong enough to detach myself from him. I was completely at his mercy to wherever he wanted our relationship to go. He would have to make the decisions; I just didn’t trust myself to.
“Yeah, I’ll take a glass of milk,” I answered with a forced smile.
“Milk, of course,” he chuckled. “Only you, butterfly.”
While he was in the kitchen, I snapped a picture of the drawing with my phone. I wasn’t sure what it was about the sketch, but it inexplicably drew me to it, an effect similar to the one that its creator had on me. Whenever I looked at the picture, I would always be reminded of not only the mystical fairy tale that I continued to hope for myself, but the private moments that Ash and I shared in his room.
We spent the rest of the night hanging out as we typically did on Saturday nights. We had a jam session and watched a little tv. We never discussed Eros and Psyche again, nor did he ever ask me about why I wasn’t seeing Dylan anymore or what was going on with me and Mason. I wished he wanted to talk about it, I hoped the thought of me intimate with someone else made his stomach churn like mine did when I thought about him with his multitude of girls that passed through his sheets. I had hoped that his jealous responses to seeing me with Mason would make him see that he should pursue something with me, but suddenly I wondered if it was jealousy at all that fueled his actions, maybe he really was just protecting me from someone he thought would hurt me . . . like a friend would do.
Thanksgiving dinner the following Thursday with my family had been uncomfortable at best. Even though I was speaking more and more with my parents, the tension between us that had never existed before at family functions made things awkward. My parents tried their best to put on the fake “we’re a big happy family” show, but it just made it worse in my opinion. As soon as I could escape to Evie’s, I did, and early Friday morning we returned to Houston. She was having Max withdrawals after only two days and I was eager to see both Mason and Ash.
The next several weeks passed in the blink of an eye. The air outside grew colder and the foliage on the trees began to disappear. Evie and I began to prepare for our first set of finals as mid-December approached quickly. We studied and we read and we studied and we made charts and we studied . . . I thought both of us were susceptible to a brain explosion due to the sheer amount of knowledge that we attempted to shovel inside.
She saw Max as much as possible around the school work, even if it meant they just got to sleep in the same bed a couple of nights a week. They were so adorable together and I loved seeing Evie happy all of the time. I continued to see Mason, and by “see” I meant do every sexual act that I had ever wanted to do with a guy except sex itself, several times a week. He would pick me up and take me to dinner and we would go to the bar for a while either for him to do a set with Jobu’s Rum or occasionally one of us would perform at open mic night. We had a hard time keeping our hands off of one another when we were together whether in public or in private. Numerous times in the middle of one of our steamy makeout sessions, I would think to myself “if he tries, I’m not going to stop him,” but he never pushed the issue. I had told him I wasn’t going to have sex with him from the beginning, and for whatever reason, he respected me enough to accept that and whatever it was that we had.
Mason knew how I felt about Ash, I had been forthcoming with him from the beginning. He always told me that Ash was the biggest fucking tool ever for not pursuing a relationship with me, but that he owed him a thank you because it allowed us time to spend together. I liked Mason, more than I wanted to admit. His was brutally honest and really didn’t care what anyone else thought about him. I envied his carefree attitude and self-confidence. I loved being around him and I loved being wrapped around him even more. It had become impossible for me to remain emotionally unattached from him, as much as I tried. It seemed that I was determined to set myself up for heartbreak no matter what.
Ash and I continued on as we had been . . . friends. He, along with Jess, Meg, & the crew, became regulars at Mason’s bar on Friday nights where he often performed. I would always go over to say hello to all of them, but never lingered. Ash never asked me up onstage with him again, but I couldn’t help but wonder if his song selections at times were made on my behalf. Often the lyrics hit a little close to home, but I did my best to ignore him and focus my attention on Mason. The only time we ever mentioned the time spent at the bar when we were together Saturday nights was when he complimented me on a performance and vice versa.
Evie and I introduced Mason and Max and they hit it off immediately. Together they had booked both Jobu’s Rum and 32 Leaves to play at a music festival in Dallas. The festival was scheduled the third weekend of December which unfortunately, was the weekend before mine and Evie’s comprehensive Biology final. We were super bummed that we couldn’t go watch our men in action, but instead we spent the three days studying and hanging out like we used to do. We watched girly movies, drank cheap wine, and painted each other’s toes. Other than the studying part, the weekend was exactly what I needed. Reconnecting with Evie reminded me of what a wonderful friend she had been to me for so many years. She had taken me under her wing time and time again, and without her I wouldn’t have been anywhere near the person I was. I owed her everything, and now that my parents no longer wanted to be a part of my life, she was all that I had.
Monday morning arrived before I knew it. I was thankful that after the Biology final, I would be finished with classes for the semester—my first semester of college in the books, literally. Luckily the student housing that we lived in did not make us vacate over the holidays because both Evie and I wanted to stay in Houston as long as possible. Mason and Max were scheduled to be back the following day and we were both in need of some serious “stress relief.” Sunday night Evie went to bed early because of another headache. She said she wanted to make sure she slept it off before the exam the following morning.
I was surprised that by the time I entered the kitchen in the morning that Evie wasn’t up yet. She always woke up before me. I yelled out to her, “Evie, get your scrawny ass up. We’ve got to leave in 45 minutes.” I went on about my morning routine, getting the coffee started and making us both a bowl of cereal. After I didn’t hear her start moving around, I called out to her again, “Evie! Wake up! Come on, chica, you’re cereal is going to get soggy!” Still no response.
I started to get worried so I made my way to her room and swung the door open. “Evelyn Rose, get up now!” I barked.
She did not move. Instantly, I knew something was very wrong.
I ran to her bed. Her skin had been drained of its natural color. “Evie?!” my voice cracked as I grabbed her arm and nudged her. She was very cold, clammy. I gasped and dropped it immediately.
“Evie! . . . get up.” I finished weakly, dropping to my knees next to her, knowing she wouldn’t answer.
I reached for her phone, still propped on her night stand where she had placed it before—, “oh God” I cried, “oh no, no, no.” I pleaded, dialing 911 in what felt like ultra slow motion.
Before the operator even finished saying those dreadful numbers I cut her off, “My best friend is unconscious, please send help.” I said as quickly as I could to save any time that might have been available to help Evie, but somehow I knew
that it was too late. I felt it in my gut, in my heart.
I managed to give them our address, and the answers they needed, as I kneeled next to Evie looking at her pale lifeless body. I went through the motions, but I knew that it was useless, my best friend was gone forever. I could feel it in my soul.
Shock set in; nausea ensued shortly after. A sob rooted deep in my chest traveled up the back of my throat and obstructed the air flow, forcing me to breathe in loud gasps. Thousands upon thousands of thoughts crossed through my mind—it happened so fast, I could not process anything and soon my head was pounding. I had so many questions. What happened? Why? How long had she been like this? How did I not know that something was this wrong? How could this be happening? What am I going to tell her parents? What am I going to do without her? What am I supposed to do? Why her? Why me? Why? I just couldn’t stop—I was afraid my brain was going to explode from sheer overload. Thoughts were moving so fast they were almost a blur. I’m not sure how long I sat on her bed next to her, it could’ve been 5 minutes or 5 hours, but eventually a warm numb spread across me. The thoughts stopped for the most part, my stomach didn’t hurt as bad, and soon I just didn’t feel at all. I was so disconnected, like I was watching life through someone else’s eyes. Not leaving Evie’s side, I somehow managed to make the worst phone call of my life.
“Hey sweetheart,” Evie’s mom answered cheerfully on the first ring.
“Something’s wrong with Evie,” I blurted out.
“What? Scarlett, is that you?”
“Yes, I’m on Evie’s phone. I found her unconscious in her bed just now. I’ve already called 911 and the paramedics are on their way.”
“I’m on my way!” She hung up without another word.
I sunk down to the floor, still unable to process what was happening. The next call I made was to my parents. My mom was obviously very upset by the news, she began crying immediately. She offered my old room to me if I wanted to come home, I told her thanks and that I would let her know, but I knew I would never stay there again. Even though our relationship had been strained for the past several months, I had no doubt that my parents would be there for me for this.
The paramedics arrived quickly. They found me sitting on the floor next to Evie. Her hand didn’t feel as cold in mine anymore. I couldn’t move. The cloudy thoughts in my mind were no longer my own. They were more like sporadic flashes of a life I once had. The muffled sounds around me didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in that moment. And I didn’t care if they ever would again.
Evie’s parents got there in what seemed like minutes, even though it must have taken several hours. They found me sitting on the couch, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think and I couldn’t move. I heard Evie’s mom call Jess to come stay with me so that she and Evie’s dad could go to the hospital. Jess and Ash all showed up some time later. I could see the red rims of their eyes and the dried up tears on their faces. I still hadn’t cried. What was wrong with me? I thought maybe I was dreaming or maybe it was me that was dead, but when Jess shoveled scalding hot soup into my mouth and burnt every taste bud on my tongue, the nightmare that my life had become was confirmed to indeed be real.
The rest of the day was a blur really. At some point I got off the couch and moved into my bed, or someone carried me there, I really couldn’t remember. I woke up there in the dead of night, screaming at the top of my lungs, the vision of Evie’s dead body in her bed had stamped into my brain.
Ash’s arms quickly wrapped around me and pulled me to him, which scared the shit out of me and caused me to scream again.
“Shhh . . . it’s okay, Scarlett. It’s just me; I’ve got you.” He rocked me back and forth against his chest while patting my head. “I’ve got you now, butterfly.”
I laid in the security of his embrace a while longer, but was forced to move when I needed to go to the bathroom
“Thank you,” I choked out before I disappeared behind the bathroom door.
For the most part I was still pretty numb. It was like my brain wouldn’t allow me to think about it, about her. I guess it was some sort of self-preservation defense mechanism or something. But I knew that I couldn’t stay in bed for the rest of my life; I needed to figure out what was going on, what I was supposed to do next. I knew that I had to keep moving, one foot in front of the other, just keep moving. The first step was a shower.
When I got out, Ash was no longer in my room. I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and went to face my Evie-less future. I found him sitting at the table, holding a cup of coffee, but not drinking it. He sat silently, staring at nothing, lost in sleep-deprived thoughts. When I entered the room, he stood up quickly and rushed to my side. He engulfed my body with his before I could say a word. He held me so tight up against him, I was afraid he was going to bruise my ribs. But I didn’t say a word. I needed him to hold me close. I needed to feel protected and close to someone. I needed to not feel alone.
“Oh, butterfly . . .” were the only words he needed to say.
I pulled my head out of his chest and looked up at him, but stayed snuggled against Ash’s warm body. “So what’s the plan? Have any arrangements been made? Where are her parents?” I began with my questions.
“Evie’s parents are at my house staying with Jess. They made arrangements yesterday for a small service this afternoon at the funeral home’s chapel.” He said softly, stroking my hair.
“Do they know what happened? Why?”
“Initial reports showed a brain bleed. They were doing further tests overnight so we should know more today.”
A brain bleed? The headaches, the fatigue, her weakening eyesight . . . it all made sense. I should have pushed her to go to a different doctor. I should have made sure that she followed up with someone when the headaches didn’t go away. I should have done something that would have saved her life.
“Has anyone called Max?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I need to call him. He should be on his way home from Dallas now. He was there playing at a music festival over the weekend,” I explained as I broke free from Ash’s arms.
“You really don’t need to do that right now, Scarlett.” He tried to wrangle me back in, but I stepped further away from him.
“No, I do. He needs to get here in time for the service. He wouldn’t want to miss it.” I began searching the apartment for my phone when I made the realization that Evie’s boyfriend and Evie’s parents would meet for the first time at her funeral. I rushed to the bathroom only to discover that there was nothing left in my stomach to discard.
A few minutes later I had gathered myself enough to leave the bathroom and make the dreadful call to Max. He answered on the first ring.
“Hey Scarlett, what’s up?”
“Hey Max, are you guys on your way home?”
“Yeah, we left a little more than an hour ago. Why? Is everything okay? Where’s Evie?”
“No, Max, everything is not okay. You need to get home as soon as possible. Come straight here.”
“Scarlett, you are scaring me. What’s going on?”
“I can’t talk about it over the phone, Max. I just need you to get here. And please, don’t say anything to Mason for me.”
“He’s in a different car, I won’t see him again until we get back. Scarlett, tell me what’s going on! Where the fuck is Evie? Is she hurt?”
“Just get here, Max.”
I hit the end button and stared at the phone. Why was this happening to me?
“If you were going to call him, you should’ve told him, Scarlett,” Ash said. “He’s going to be worried sick. He’s going to think the worst.”
“He should think the worst, Ash! She’s dead! That’s about as fucking bad as it gets!” I screamed at him. I stormed into my room and slammed my door. I threw myself on my bed and hid my head under my pillow. I wanted to disappear. I wanted everyone and everything to go away. I wanted to be alone. I still didn’t cry.
Unfortunately, Ash
either didn’t get the hint or decided to ignore it because a few minutes later, I heard my door open and close quietly. He climbed back into bed with me and gathered me into his arms. He held me close, rubbing my back, and kissing the top of my head.
“It’s going to be okay, butterfly. I promise. I know it doesn’t seem that way right now, but I promise you are going to be just fine. I will be here for you, for whatever you need. Jess and Meg and you and me . . . we are all going to get through this together, okay?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t really think he was looking for an answer anyways. I knew he was saying what he thought I needed to hear, and honestly, it did make me feel a little better even though I knew he had no idea if I was going to be okay or anyone else for that matter. I let him hold me until I heard Evie’s mom’s voice carry through the thin walls. I got up, knowing that I needed to be strong for her. She had just lost her only child, and I owed her to make this day as painless as possible. There simply wasn’t room for any more pain.
The funeral was . . . well, it was a funeral. Evie’s parents kept it very small and low-key. In addition to a few of Evie’s extended family members and my parents, Jess was there with Jacob, Nicholas, Vicki, Meg, and Ash. Mina and all of the 32 Leaves’ members were there to support Max. He seemed to have taken the same approach to life post-Evie as I had—numb. After the priest conducted the formal portion of the ceremony, they opened the floor to anyone who wanted to speak.
Jess approached the microphone first. I was so proud of her as she kept herself together as she retold funny stories of her and Evie being mischievous and getting in trouble when they were kids. Max walked to the front of the room next, his acoustic in tow. Just looking at him broke my heart even more, and at that point, I thought that feat was impossible. He pulled a stool from the side of the altar area and sat down, his guitar in his lap.