Just Friends

Part 26: When they go together

It had been two weeks since Chris died. PJ hadn't said a word to Phil or me. With every day the sick feeling in my stomach grew. After two weeks of silence I couldn't take it anymore. Why hadn't he said anything?

"Phil!" I yelled across the flat. "We're going to PJ's."

He ran into the lounge. "Did something happen?"

I bit my bottom lip nervously. "I just need to go check on him. I have a bad feeling."

Phil grabbed my hand. "Me too."

The cab ride was quiet and tense. I probably sent PJ two hundred texts on the way. There was no reply.

The cab hadn't even stopped before I bolted out the door. I was at the door in a moment with Phil at my side. I rang the doorbell frantically. No answer. Phil dug out his emergency key. The door flew open.

"PJ!" I called. My voice echoed off of the walls. The flat was a wreck. It looked like a someone had thrown everything around in a fit of anger.

Phil ran off towards PJ's room. I searched the other rooms. "DAN!" Came a shriek from Phil.

My stomach twisted. I sprinted to the other room. I knew what I'd find before I even reached the door. Phil was knelt on the floor beside PJ's bed. His hunched form was shaking with violent sobs. PJ was lying on the bed. Phil was clutching a piece of paper. I knew what it was.

I was in too much shock to even cry. I put my hand to PJ's forehead. He was cold. Cold as death.

Someone was screaming. Who was screaming? Oh. I was screaming. I didn't have a reason to stop. So I didn't.

Later that week.

Phil was sitting next to me in one of his nice suits. The reverend kept talking about them. It was obvious the man hadn't met either of them. There were so many old people who probably had seen them twice a year. I glanced at Phil. Tears were streaming down his face in silence. His knuckles were white from clutching the arm of the pew.

It was a nice service. Closed coffins. I don't think I could have seen them again. At the end of the aisle there were two matching black coffins. I felt so numb. This wasn't happening. I wasn't here. This is all just a horrible nightmare. I pinched my already bruised hand. I barely felt it.

Phil looked at me with bloodshot eyes, "I'm glad they went together. I still miss them though."

I kept staring straight ahead and nodded.

"The fantastic foursome became just Dan and Phil."

I winced. I wanted them to pop out of the coffins and yell "syke!" But that wasn't very realistic. Fuck realistic.

Phil and I stood next to each other as the coffins were lowered into the ground. We stood next to each other as the sun set behind their tombstones. "PJ Liugori, the most creative person I knew. He could have been so much more." And "Christopher Kendall, he could always make me laugh. He could have been so much more."

Phil buried his face in my shoulder and cried. His slim body trembled against mine. I embraced him tightly.

"We're going to be okay. We're going to be okay." I repeated it over and over. I whispered it into Phil's ruffled hair. I wanted him to believe that. Even if I couldn't.

"We're going to be okay."

But we're we really?