Tomorrow, I will die.
That is tomorrow though, not today.
The day started off much differently than I was used to. The first difference was apparent when I inhaled deeply through my nose, a strange combination of scents greeting my still groggy mind. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what the smell was, but it was familiar to the point of nostalgia. It was somewhere in the realm between comforting and concerning, the latter only because it wasn't one I generally woke up to. This one was much sweeter than the smell that lingered in my house. Not to say that my house smelled bad, just not as nice.
My eyes refused to peel open and I was almost convinced that they'd permanently crusted shut. My brain was already throbbing dully against the inside of my skull. The source of the ache was the same reason I'd slept a little too well, it was all thanks to the 'Stan is totally not dying' celebration. I felt like I was resurrecting from my endless years of sleep in my neatly sealed tomb and not a comfortable bed. And when I say comfortable, I mean that I didn't know a bed could be so comfortable.
My tired limbs stretched as I decided to pursue the mystery of where I was. In the process, I heard footsteps from behind me somewhere, presumably outside the room, and a woman's voice. The voice gave it away and put an end to my detective work.
"Good morning, Kenny! Did you and my bubbie have fun last night?" I could make the words out thanks to the shear volume of her voice. My eyes pried open but all I saw was a wall before they shot closed again. The intensity of the sunlight pouring in through the window at the foot of the bed sent a sharp pain into my skull, making my headache so much worse.
"Yup! Thanks so very much for having me!" Kenny always laid the glaze on thick when he spoke to our parents. They always believed he was this little angel, but he was probably the complete opposite. If we were doing something bad, nine times out of ten, it was his idea.
From the short dialog and glimpse of the Einstein poster on the wall, I'd gathered I was most likely in Kyle's room, possibly in his bed. Well, not possibly, I definitely was. I'd been in his bed before, but we were children then and fit comfortably on the small twin mattress. Now, it seemed a bit awkward, two seventeen year olds in a bed. Here I was though, possibly lying beside him.
I think it'd be less awkward if we didn't have this weird relationship. It was pretty obvious, or so Kenny said, that there was built up sexual tension that made being close harder the older we got.
I slowly blinked my eyes open again as a knocking filled the room. "Bubbie, are you and Stan in there? He has to get doing soon if he doesn't want to be late. Sharon will raise a fit if we don't leave soon too."
Oh, right. My funeral is today. It was at three though, could it possibly be that late?
The mattress shifted behind me, catching my attention. I peeked over my shoulder, my best friend, in fact, beside me. "Morning, Kyle." I muttered.
"Morning." he rubbed his eyes with balled fist, sitting up, still snuggled in his thick blanket. His hair was disheveled; red, messy waves framing his face. One of his hands fell to his lap, the other holding his head. "We're coming, mom. Sorry." He called out, voice crackling from lack of use.
"Okay! Come down when you're ready. Hurry though! We have to take Kenny to his house to pick up his suit." she said, the floorboards creaking under her weight. Footsteps soon trailed off though, fading as they carried her towards the kitchen.
"Man, we really got obliterated last night." I turned over to face my best friend, the rest of the room coming into view behind him. So organized and clean.
He shook his head, smiling a little bit despite the pain. His lids opened slowly to reveal bright, green eyes. His gaze trailed to me. "All I remember is Kenny making us play beer pong. You were so awesome at it even though you never played. He was so mad because apparently he's been playing for years and still lost to you. It was so funny."
I couldn't help but smile, he always made me smile whenever I saw him happy. "A-ha, that sounds so rad, dude. I wish I could remember that."
"That's really all I remember, he made me play after he lost. I couldn't even make one cup so I drank a lot right away." He laughed, running his fingers through his messy locks.
I stretched out a bit more, shifting the blanket in the process. "We must have been really messed up if we decided to share the bed. It's been fore--" I trailed off as the blanket slid off of him, revealing his bare torso as it fell in his lap. Like, no shirt at all, which was really weird since Kyle was shy.
He looked down at himself, seeing where my eyes were stuck and making the connection. He blinked a couple times, eyes suddenly widening before he hurriedly tugged the blanket up to cover himself again. His face started to turn red, his expression one of shock and embarrassment.
This made me painfully aware of why I was so comfortable. I felt extremely naked now that I thought about it.
I scrambled to sit up beside him, lifting the blanket to peer underneath. Sure enough, I was pretty damn naked. Great. Just what I wanted to do my last night of life; cheat on my girlfriend with my best friend.
I very much liked my girlfriend too! Like, she's not the cheat-on worthy type, if that was even a type. If it was, it shouldn't be. No one deserves to be cheat on except maybe me after this crazy shit. It wasn't even that I didn't like Kyle, I very much liked him too. If it was under different circumstances my mind would be screaming 'Hell yes! You finally did it! Praise the lord, I can now die happy!'. This was reality though. The only reason Kyle had slept with me was because we were both obliterated and I was definitely still dating Wendy.
"So...uh..." I couldn't really form words in this moment, dumbfounded by the situation. My mind was trying to think of reasons why we'd be naked and laying together aside from the obvious. I just didn't want to believe this.
"Yeah..uh.." He partially mocked me, looking down at his fingers as they fidgeted together in his lap. "I was a virgin."
"Kyle..I'm sorry." This only added to the awkwardness. If I wasn't dying tomorrow, I would have time to sort this out. The most we'd done was kiss in eighth grade. It wasn't romantic. We started talking about our first kisses and how awkward they'd be. We figured if we took each others lip virginity, it would make us less nervous when the real thing came. Normal bro stuff, ya know?
"Its not like I regret it. I just wish I remembered it." he said softly. "I might have been upset if you weren't...ya know.."
There was the pity. I'd gotten a lot of that lately. "Yeah, I know. It's okay. Let's get ready."
He smiled but it wasn't as bright as usual. It wasn't contagious this time. I knew he was sad. Maybe it was because we'd finally done the big deed right before I'm supposed to die, or maybe it was because I was going to die with Wendy as my significant other and not him.
"Yeah.." he muttered, letting the blanket slide off of him as he stood.
His full figure stood before me, a rather nice view. He was skinny, but it wasn't like a scrawny skinny. His stomach was flat, waist thinner than his hips from behind. I really swore he had the best body out of any guy I'd ever seen. Normally, I wasn't into guys, but he wasn't a normal guy. He was shorter than me by at least five inches, his face still as cute as the day we'd met. He was like a girl but without the awkwardness.
I couldn't tell Wendy, but he had a nicer body than her. It would kill her self esteem if I voiced this out loud, so I would never. Even if she did call my legs short.
The seriously fucked up part was that I would probably sleep with Kyle again if I had the chance. It kind of felt liberating. I'd never slept with Wendy because she was set on saving herself until the perfect moment. Apparently, that moment hasn't come yet, even though we've been dating for three years. I never tried to make her because I've tried to live my life as a good guy who always does the right thing. Who was to say that being with Kyle wasn't the right thing all along, and by some weird irony, I had figured this out the day before I am destined to be buried in the ground.
Before I know it, he is fully dressed in a rather nice looking dress suit, smoothing his hair out in the mirror. He'd sneak glances at me in the reflection every so often.
I slid off the bed, following in suit. All I had were my clothes from last night, so they had to do until I got to my house. "Hey, uh..do you hurt..?" I was concerned, really.
He stopped mid comb, turning to look at me instead. "I don't think we should talk about this ever again."
I finished pulling my last article of clothing on, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't think that it was that wrong, Kyle. Besides, I don't have much time so 'ever again' is really only twenty-four hours, if I'm lucky."
Angrily, he sat his comb down, letting out a loud sigh. He shook his head, making his way to the door and unlocking it. "It's better for everyone that way." he mumbled before disappearing into the hallway.
I'm not exactly sure what he meant but the words swirled in my mind regardless. I couldn't tell if it was what he said that bothered me more, or the way my stomach started to churn. Without warning, my stomach rejected the small amount of contents left inside of it, bile rising in my throat. I hurriedly got up and ran for the garbage can beside his desk but didn't make it in time. Instead, stomach acid, along with half digested snacks from last night and schnapps, spewed from my mouth and all over the wooden surface. Oops.
I tried to be sneaky about getting something from the bathroom to clean it up with, but Kenny caught me in the hall. "You guys good? You both look kind of gross."
I ignored him for the most part, only earning a shrug as I grabbed a towel from the rack beside the toilet. I figured in a list of importance, Kyle's desk was above a towel.
Luckily for me, I didn't throw up on anything important thanks to Kyle's tidiness. I wiped a majority of the gross liquid mix from the table top, gagging a couple times but not quite enough to vomit again. In the process, I noticed a couple pictures beside his computer monitor. One was of him, his parents and his brother recently in Canada. I almost forgot they'd gone there for a vacation last year. I think that this picture made me sad because it reminded me that they all had the same death date. It wasn't for twenty five years, but it still seemed depressing. They'd definitely die unnaturally. Whether it be in a car accident, a plane crash or a mass shooting.
The second was of our whole graduating class, also a new picture that was taken for the yearbook this year. Me, him, Kenny and Cartman all stood in the back. Kenny was being his usual self and making a ridiculous face. Cartman was glancing at Butters beside him who looked as if he was on the verge of falling of the bleacher. Me and Kyle were all the way on the end, along with Wendy. She held my hand tightly, smiling widely at the camera. Kyle one had one of those small, sad smiles on, hand holding onto the sleeve of my shirt on the opposite side. I hated how normal and plain everyone else looked. So I moved on.
The last picture was of us as children, somewhere around nine or ten, standing outside of Whistlin' Willie's, arms slung around each other. It was Kyle's birthday, a paper crown on his head to signify this, the same paper crown in his closet somewhere. Kenny is looking at the camera, smirking like he's got some big secret that he'll never tell anyone. Suave even as a child. This was right after he'd stopped wearing his hood on and instead exposed his face all the time. Cartman was to his right, eyes fixed on the ground as discomfort takes hold of his expression. He'd eaten too much that day because the food was free and ended up throwing up the entire night. I couldn't help but laugh at the memory.
On his right was me and Kyle, holding each other especially close. He looked the best in this photo. He always said that night was one of the best he'd ever had, even to this day. It defined our group, set our friendships in stone. He smiled so hard that his eyes curled into happy crescents atop his features, pearly white teeth completely exposed. Even then, he was the brightest, in color and in mind. My eyes were focused on him, a smile of my own in full blossom. It was like all I could see was his happy expression. That was all I saw now.
Tomorrow, none of it would matter, though. I wouldn't be able to see him smile like that ever again. I'd cease to make these kinds of memories. I wondered if it ever really mattered at all.
I'd acted like I'd come to terms with my early death, joking about it for years.
Staring at this picture though, barf towel in hand and the sound of Kyle talking to Kenny outside the room, I stopped over thinking.
For the first time, I was scared.