Chapter Eight

Death Is Its Own Lesson

Genevieve went home and cried. Kyle and Nick were best friends like she and Emilette. Genevieve could identify so well how Nick must be feeling. To have the other half of himself torn out, to have lost someone considered a sibling. It was like ripping your heart out, and being expected to live as only half the person you were. Genevieve felt as if she'd never truly live again. She felt lost. Genevieve knew that she would never be the same. Emilette had been the person by which she defined herself. She wondered if Emilette was safe, was happy, wherever she was. What she'd do to Kyle when she found out what he had done. No matter what, Genevieve knew, the couple would end up together. It was how fate worked.

Genevieve thought of it often, what it must have done to Nick. To have Kyle slit his wrists in the exact spot where Emilette had died…the picture, the pain, imagining the feeling….it sent pain straight through Genevieve’s skull. She wondered if anyone would have ever done that for her. It occurred to her that Nicholas most likely would. She laid on her bed and prayed for sleep, that never came. She thought often of the loss she suffered without her friend. She knew she and Nick would be in for a rough time, and that school would be hard. Her parents had said she didn’t have to go, but Emilette would have gone, and Genevieve knew that Nick would go, because that’s what Kyle would do. So, to honor both their friends, they knew they’d both be in school the next day.

The days that followed were a blur. At school, everyone tried to comfort Genevieve, but Gen found that the words were meaningless. Time with Nicholas was empty, a reminder of hard work put in by Genevieve’s best friend, who wasn’t there. Genevieve still hoped it was a nightmare. That she’d look over and see her best friend walking beside her, babbling about boys, and gossip, and her latest work on the paper.

The school newspaper had put in a tribute to their best writer. The profile was beautiful, but was completely and utterly empty of meaning. To Genevieve, who had seen everything these tiny lines of type did not describe, these small black letters were nothing but words. The sports editor had done a profile on Kyle, describing his swimming successes in depth. Kyle had, like Emilette, been so much more than the one article could begin to explain. To eyes of the people that knew him best, the paper didn’t know Kyle, or Emilette,at all.

Lauren and Vivian, and most of the rest of their friends,studiously avoided Genevieve and Nicholas, like bad luck and losscould spread like a plague.

They didn’t understand. There hadn’t been a loss. One lost keys. One lost a game. A death was not a loss. It was the end of the world; an Armageddon.

Genevieve tortured herself, wondering why she lived when Emilette did not. Why she wasn’t strong enough to stop it. Why she didn’t fight harder against fate.

Nick got suspended from the swim team after he lost three meets and mouthed off to his coach. He was angry and took it out on whatever target was available. The team started avoiding Nick. No one had any idea what to say. Nick and Genevieve knew that only the other understood how it felt to go through this hell, how it felt to be ostracized by misfortune. Genevieve was fine with that; she didn’t want to talk to anyone. She and Nick talked more and more, but only about Emilette and Kyle. Everything else seemed mundane. Genevieve never mentioned the fight. It felt insignificant. Hey, she thought on one of her more morbid days, at least you don’t have to tell Emilette about it.

Nick and Genny had gone to see their friends at the graveyard, more than once. Often, they went together, bringing some food and sitting silently beside their fallen friends’ tombstones. Nick would watch as Genevieve had her head turned to the side, laughing with tears streaming down her face, the sunshine shedding its’ rays on her features. It seemed as if she was talking to Emilette, as if she were really there, alive. It seemed to Nicholas a wonderful thing to imagine, to be able to have Emilette there strictly by calling to her in his imagination. Sometimes Nick could almost see her, brought to life by Genevieve's voice. Nick sat by Kyle’s grave, not really talking, just wanting to be near his friend. They’d been almost brothers since they were in kindergarten. What do you expect me to do? he asked, knowing well that Kyle would never answer, ever again.

Walking from the graveyard one night, Genevieve stopped Nick as they walked, his arm over her shoulder, she keeping her body as close to him as she could. They were standing under the streetlight, where their first kiss had been, almost a month ago. A month. It truly had been only a month since all this had started, since everything had changed.

“Nick…” Genevieve said carefully, going back to being the shy girl Nick had brought to the party. “Nick, if we are going to continue this charade, we’re hurting ourselves.” Nick nodded, trying hard not to drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness. “It’s not either of us. Emilette’s death has been so hard. Kyle slit his wrists where Emilette died. You’ve seen that.”

Nick nodded; wincing at the picture he’d kept in his mind ofwhat his friend’s mangled body must have looked like.

“I can’t keep dating you right now. I have so much to face.”

Genevieve looked at Nick’s face. He looked crestfallen.

“Nick, I love you. You know that. But I can’t be in a relationship and deal with everything right now, and besides, we’re juniors. Soon enough, it’s going to be senior year, then, too soon, it will be graduation. Then college; we’ll barely see each other. And I need to have space to grow in high school, and space for dealing with what’s happened and to start looking at colleges… Besides, if we weren’t to lose each other in high school, by college we’d be doomed. I think we’re better off ending it now.”

Nick’s face hadn’t changed. He stood up, his lips brushing Genevieve’s cheek.

“Gen, you don’t want this.”

Genevieve shook her head.

“Yes, I do.”

And she left Nick standing under the streetlight, looking lost and forlorn in his small pool of light, alone, in the cold darkness of the evening. Genevieve walked into the shadows, disappearing,without looking back.

*​*​*

Genevieve awoke that night to something cold in her room. She knew it was on toward winter, but there was nothing natural about the cold. She looked around. A shadow in the corner took on the shape of someone Genevieve knew very well.

“You broke up with Nick?!” the apparition cried loudly.

“Shh! Emilette! You’ll wake my parents!” Genevieve smiled broadly. She wanted to hug Emilette. She rushed forward. When her arms passed through, Genevieve saw Emilette’s eyes become a little dimmer. Genevieve’s eyes brimmed over with tears at this reminder that Emilette would never truly be physically there again.

“Come on now, don’t cry. Come on, you know I'm watching over you. And you need Nick, now more than ever. I'm not here, but he knows what you’re going through. Please trust me. Just go to him tomorrow. Talk, please, Gen.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Words have always come to you. They won’t forsake you when you need them.”

“And they say death doesn’t make you smarter.”

Both girls smiled faintly.

“I can’t stay long. But don’t start pitying yourself. I already had a few words with Kyle. Well, rough patches.”

Genevieve smiled. Emilette sounded as if she didn’t even know she was dead. She was as beautiful as ever. Her dark eyes and hair combed and looking as lovely as Gen had ever seen.

“But the girls…” Gen said, referencing the friends that refused to speak to her.

“I know, I'm off to them next. A good haunt will do them good.”

Gen laughed.

“Kidding, of course. Geez Gen, I’ve missed your laugh.” Emilette reached toward Genevieve’s face, then stopped, remembering she could not wipe away the tear resting on her friend’s cheek. “I just needed to see you. I’m glad I said good bye, but I don’t think Kyle is to blame. Gen, don’t be angry, OK? Promise!” Emilette insisted, as if she wasn’t a ghost floating in the air above her friends bed, but Emilette, alive, giving Gen advice, same as ever, expecting something Gen didn’t believe she could do. But Emilette always had faith that Gen could do anything, and much more than Gen expected of herself. Emilette believed, always believed, that Gen had the ability to raise her expectations of herself.

“I promise.”

Her friend faded, and Genevieve fought back tears as her friend dissipated into gas.

“Em, if you can hear me, I'm sorry. And you’re always my best friend.”

“Always here. Anytime you need me. And if I'm you’re only best friend, you need a life. No pun intended. Remember, I'm there, but you need real friends, living ones. Don’t be scared to reach out to people.” Genevieve heard from the air.

“Don’t leave.” Genevieve pleaded.

“Never.” Genevieve rolled over. Emilette’s ghost hadn’t scared her. But it had sure given her a good dose of Emilette-sized attitude. And that was exactly what Genevieve needed.

*​*​*

Genevieve found Nick the next day in school. He looked as dazed as she felt. Neither could believe they’d broken up. Genevieve looked into Nick’s emerald-green eyes, and tried to fit all her emotions into sentences. “I’m sorry.” She said.

“Me too.” Nick replied, fitting Genevieve into his embrace. “You’re the only one who knows what I’m going through.”

“That’s true. And everything has been such a blur for us, both of us.” Genevieve nodded. “I don’t deserve someone like you.”

“No,” Nick agreed. “You deserve better.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the best I can get.” Genevieve replied, laughing for the first time in so long. Her voice seemed so rought at first. Laughing, a noise like that, had not sounded in so long. It seemed foreign. Genevieve covered her mouth.

“It’s OK,” Nick said soothingly, “she’d want us to be happy.”

The faces around Genevieve held no more meaning than ever, but suddenly she saw how clear everything became around Nicholas. Genevieve watched Nick pull away wearily.

“I think we both have a lot to work through.” Nicholas said. Genevieve snorted derisively; that was more than certainly an understatement.

“I’m willing to work,” she murmured as Nick leaned over, taking her face in his hands and laying his soft lips against hers. Genevieve wanted to fall back into his embrace. She let herself fall. As they walked out of the school that day, Nick reflected that he had a few years left with Genevieve, and he most definitely looked forward to it.

Genevieve saw Emilette watching the two of them approvingly from above, and in her mind she could hear Emilette’s voice telling her “I told you so.” Genevieve laughed to herself. Nick looked at her sideways but said nothing. He had a feeling he knew what Gen was thinking. After all they’d been through, at least they had each other, he thought.

Emilette faded behind Genevieve, leaving a smile on her friends face, a final gift she could leave, a last reminder that Emilette would always be there. She wished she could leave behind a more solid reminder of her ever-lasting presence, but Emilette had a feeling that Genevieve would never forget that her best friend was there in a time of need. Genevieve was like that; somehowGenevieve would know that, no matter what, she always had a best friend. Emilette would Not be gone, would not be forgotten. Emilette was there, even when she wasn’t. Her memory lived on.But it doesn’t hurt to make some new memories, Genevieve thought as she felt Nick’s lips on hers under the beautiful afternoon sunshine, the pink on the horizon leaving her feeling as if magic was possible. She felt that the flames on her skin, running through her veins, would never die, anymore than Emilette would. And Genevieve stepped back and looked at Nick, sure he was thinking the same; that both their friends were happy somewhere, and that he and Gen ought to be happy where they were, keeping their friends’memories alive. He leaned down again, and his lips found hers, in a kiss as binding as death.