"Through all of it, he was there. Every breakup and breakdown; he was there. The boy was my fucking rock, and I was too late to see it. Now he won't be there anymore, and it's my fault," I started off my eulogy, scanning the pews full of people dressed in black. "I don't think there has ever been a person that knows me as well as Louis did. We've been through thick and thin since seventh grade, and I know even though he's been taken away, he'll continue to be there for me through everything.
"When I first met Louis, I was being bullied, and he told me 'Don't you dare listen to those shitheads, girl. They're all liars, anyways.' Louis was a thirteen year old calling little girls 'shitheads.' And let me tell you, I hated that boy at first. But Louis just isn't a person you can dislike. It's impossible. He has a smile on his face twenty four-seven, and it's a smile that's contagious, too. He always cheered me up. Always. That boy had the charm of, hell, I don't even know.
"And Miss Delaney," I start, looking at Louis' mother, then to his father. "And Mister Todd, thank you so much. Your son was the greatest friend I could ever have. He still is. For him to be taken right after graduation, right before his life had really started, is not fair. Louis never did anything wrong, so I don't understand. Why would somebody who had never done anything wrong, have something so wrong done to them?"
I take a break for a few moments from my speech. My voice is starting to crack, but I promised Louis, and myself, that I wouldn't cry. Taking in my surroundings, I let my eyes fall on the glossy black casket that lay open, but I don't dare let my eyes fall on him. It's amazing. The work of the coroners, I mean. They managed to cover up every bruise and scrape from the car crash.
"I love Louis. He meant more to me than anyone else in this entire world. Honestly, I don't know what to do now. I just want to go to him, because that's what I always did when I was lost, or sad, or angry. Now what, though? Let me just say, Louis, where ever you are, we all love you, and we all miss you like hell.
"I probably should step down and let someone else talk," I chuckle lightly, trying to cut through the awkward tension of the room and lighten the situation since the tears are threatening to fall at any moment. I won't cry, though. I can't.
As Miss Delaney walks up the stairs to the podium where I just was and I walk down the stairs, she mouths two words to me: Thank you. I just nod; my expression sad. Louis' eyes are closed in the casket, but when I close my eyes to match his, his are there, open, on the backsides of my eyelids. The bright blue orbs with flecks of yellow when the sun hits them are there, along with his mouth in a grin, and his hair blowing slightly in the light breeze, and I can hear his laugh echo through my head. Just as quickly as he is there, though, he's gone.
He's gone.
Those words echo through my head just like his laugh did only a moment ago. It tears me up inside.
My broken arm throbs, along with the scrapes and bruises that littered my body from the accident. He is gone, and I'm still here. I was in that accident with him. I watched his body mold against the crumpled driver's side of his car. I watched his smile remain from the laugh we just shared because it had all happened too fast for his expression to change. I watched his mouth form three words, but heard no noise as my head crashed against the window and knocked me unconscious.
I had woken the next day, but Louis hadn't. Louis hadn't survived. Louis was already in the morgue with a tie on his toe. I was just in a hospital with a cast on my forearm and bandages on my head. He is gone, and I'm still here.
"Thank you, Audrey," Miss Delaney says through tears, her knuckles turning white as she grips the sides of the wooden podium in front of her. "Louis loved you. You were, and still are, his best friend. He talked about you constantly. My son loved you to the moon and back."
After that, she went on with a summary of his life, but I tuned it out. I tuned everything out. This is my fault. If I hadn't of dragged him out of the house. If I hadn't of made him go see that stupid movie with me. This is all my fault, right?
The funeral had ended by the time I snapped out of my daze. My mom was tugging me by my non-broken arm, saying it was time for the burial. Honestly, I didn't want to see them cover my best friend in dirt. Louis wouldn't have liked it.
The minister speaks lines that he has probably spoken thousands of times. There's no meaning behind them at all. His voice is dry and monotonous, like endless waves, but made of sand instead of water. Then the casket is being lowered. Once it's completely inside, people begin throwing flowers in. I don't. I throw in a letter. It's a letter I had been meaning to give to him for a long time. It says:
Louis,
We've graduated. Can you believe it? We've made it so far and now we're on our own. I'm not worried, though. Especially since you're here by my side. We've gotten through so much together, what's one more challenge, right? I guess this is just a form of congratulations. Maybe not, though. Who knows? I sure as hell don't. We're going to do well in life, I just know it. Good luck, Louis. Even though we're going to be separated by attending different universities, we'll still have each other. I wish you all the best.
Love,
Audrey
He wrote me a letter, too. I have yet to open it. His mother gave it to me when I first arrived at the cathedral and told me she found it in his bedroom. I don't know if I'm able to read it. Not yet.
My mom drags me; once again, except this time it's to her car. She's crying. Yet, I still haven't. I have no right to cry. This is my entire fault.
"Audrey, it's not your fault," my mother tells me while sniffling and pulling away from the cemetery onto the main road through our small town in Maryland.
"Bullshit," I mumble, not loud enough for her to hear. I don't want to talk to anyone. Except, of course, Louis. "I'm going out when we get home."
"Where to?" She asks, her voice laced with concern.
"Where do you think?"
She nods, being the all-knowing mother she is, "Okay."
As soon as we get home, I change out of my dreadful funeral dress and put on jeans and a hoodie. Even though it's June, it's a bit chilly out still. Then I leave.
My mom thinks I'm going to the record store, since that's where I always go when I'm upset and Louis is unavailable, but she's wrong. I'm going much farther. I don't honestly know where I'm going. When my car is started up, some upbeat song is playing over the radio talking about dancing all night to the "best song ever." What would the best song ever even be? Louis' favorite song was always this one song by The Fray. "Look After You", I think it's called.
I just keep driving, until eventually; my car starts to run out of gas once I hit Washington D.C. As I should have expected, the place is crazy crowded and the traffic seems to be endless. So right as my car begins to stall, I merge into the shoulder. Then, I walk.
I'm only walking for about an hour when I finally find someplace I can sit down and compose myself: Starbucks. Thank god.
I order a caramel frappe, and find a small table in the back corner that's pretty isolated from the rest of the café. Then, I just become kind of lost in my thoughts.
I don't know what to do, Louis. I didn't realize how much I relied on you. You were the only person I ever spent time with, so I don't really have any other friends. I guess, I'm just lost without you. I don't know if you're there, and this is probably going to sound incredibly cliché, but please. Please, Louis. Give me some sort of sign. Anything.
"Audrey!" A barista calls my name, letting me know my iced beverage is done, and I go and get it. I quietly thank her, and head back to my table, only to find that a thin man with sunglasses on and his hood pulled up and occupied it. Well, that's rude.
"Excuse me?" I say quietly, trying to grasp the sketchy man's attention, but there's no success on the first try. His eyes are locked on his phone. "Excuse me?" I try again, louder now.
"Hm?" He looks up, seemingly nervous. Although his face eyes are hidden, he looks familiar.
"You kind of stole my table," I chuckle nervously.
He gasps, "Oh! I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay. No one is with me, so you can stay there if you want," I force a small smile.
The man nods, and then just goes back to his phone. I just stare at my coffee, holding it with my free hand and waiting for my fingers to go numb. Then all of me will be numb, not just my mind. I stay there, just staring at my coffee, for a good long while.
"I'm not trying to pry, but you seem upset. Want to talk about what's wrong?" He asks. The compassion of complete strangers will always bewilder me. I catch his English accent when he speaks.
"Don't take this the wrong way," I start, fully aware that's it's not the best way to start off a sentence. "But I don't know you."
"Alright, fair enough," he shrugs, and adjusts himself in his seat to face me fully.
I just nod.
"I'm Louis," he says, removing the sunglasses at the same time to reveal bright blue orbs with specks of yellow as the sun shines on them from the windows.
My eyes go wide. The same name and the same eyes. Though, not the same person.
"I-I'm sorry," I mutter, as my eyes begin to well with tears.
"I'm guessing you know who I am?" He chuckles.
"I have no fucking idea who you are, but you have the same name and eyes as him."
"Him?"
"My best friend that just died," I choke out, suddenly feeling like I'm being suffocated. Is this some cruel joke? I think back to my thoughts earlier. I asked Louis for a sign. Is this my sign, Louis? Even in death, you're fucking crazy.
The other Louis just stares at me, his matching eyes full of worry and regret. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," I say, trying not to snap. The last thing I need is a stranger's sympathy.
"What's your name?" He asks, trying to change the subject, but every time his eyes meet mine, it's like he is there.
"Audrey," I answer. My voice is surprisingly firm even though I feel like all air is being sucked out of my lungs by a vacuum, leaving them empty, dry, and desolate.
"Like Audrey Hepburn?"
"Yes, my mother named me after her," I chuckle, trying to lighten the intense pressure on my chest.
Conversation goes smooth between us. Yet, I can't help but ache at how similar he is to my Louis. Right down to his favorite song, and favorite food, and practically everything.
"Why are you hiding?" I finally ask, and his lips turn upwards into a slightly playful grin.
"Because I don't want to be swarmed."
"Swarmed?"
"By girls."
"Isn't that a bit arrogant of you?" I laugh, but it's not a real laugh. It's a laugh of disbelief.
"Maybe. I'm in a band, though. We're playing here tonight, and I just needed a little break from the rest of the people in my group for a little while."
Then, it just clicks.
"Louis," I start. "As in Louis Tomlinson from One Direction, if I'm not mistaken."
"Bingo," he grins cheekily.
I'm not quite sure how to react at first, honestly. "Why the hell are you here in Starbucks?"
"I just told you," he sighs.
"Am I going to be attacked by angry thirteen year olds? I swear, I will never forgive you, Louis," I laugh. I regret it immediately, though. I just joked with him as if he were my Louis.
He's not Louis and he will never be.
"You might," he chuckles. "I can't be quite sure. I'm going to have to leave soon."
"Good luck with your pop star life," I force a small smile.
"My show should be over around ten. Do you want to meet me back here then?" He asks, scratching the back of his neck. I guess even world-famous boy band members get nervous while talking to girls from time to time.
"Seeing as I ran out of gas and am stranded here, I guess I have no choice," I shrug.
Louis grins again, his perfectly straight, white teeth on display.
"I'll see you later then, Audrey."
"Yeah," I nod. "Later."
For some reason I feel the need to remind myself:
He's not Louis and he never will be.