Chaos. Pure. Utter chaos.
Huff was rushed away on a gurney, and when his parents got word soon after, they showed up. There are no words to describe the looks on their faces. Losing one child is horrible. But losing two? I can’t imagine.
After that, all I remember are the sounds of his mom sobbing as we waited and waited some more in that crowded room. I don’t even remember handing the drugs off to one of my sisters, but she must’ve gotten the doses out. A few hours later, some of the ones who were “feeling sick” started showing up for support.
I know it’s going to be a huge mess when this all shakes out, but right now, in this moment, all I can think is that I must be dreaming.
That doctor did not just come out here and tell us there was nothing they could do. It can’t be. Huff can’t be gone. No way.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here trying to process it. My heart is numb. My brain feels like it’s been busted up into a million random thoughts—memories of Huff and me playing in his yard, hours of us talking on the phone. Our first school dance together in the seventh grade. Dressing as the Hudson River for Halloween—green clothes with trash and plastic fish glued all over us. Then there was our kiss and these past few days. Huff telling me he loves me.
So many things are swimming in my head, and all of them are telling me that this can’t be real. It doesn’t fit our story. We were supposed to be together. Forever.
My eyes drift over to Huff’s parents, who are holding each other crying. I want to say something to them, but what? My condolences? I’m sorry for your loss?
Fuck no. Because he’s not dead. He can’t be.
“I need to see him,” I blurt out. “I want to see him.” I rush through the door where they took Huff. “I want to see him!”
I’m intercepted by some woman. “You can’t be back here. You have to go back outside.”
“No. I want to see him! I know he’s not gone.”
Some guys show up and start dragging me out.
I kick and scream and flail my arms. “I’m not leaving until I see him!”
I don’t really know what happens next. It’s all a blur. I’m put in some exam room and locked inside. I hear screaming out in the hall. Some of my sisters are demanding I be let out. People are running around, calling for security.
“I want to see him! Now! Let me the fuck out of here!” I pound my fists on the door and look out the small window. Men in white coats rush by, pushing a gurney. There’s a body with a sheet over it.
They’re taking him. They’re going to chop him up into little pieces and study him like an animal. “You can’t do this! Give him back!”
But no one comes. No one is listening.
I drop to the floor and cover my face, unable to stop crying. There is absolutely nothing in this world that will convince me he’s dead. I would know. I would know!
An hour later, the door opens, and a familiar face is on the other side. “River, your parents are downstairs. I’ll take you to them.”
“Kyle? What are you doing here?” It’s a stupid question. Of course he’s here. Why wouldn’t he be? “Did you see him? Did you see them take Huff away?”
“Yes, I saw him.”
“He’s not dead. Why did they take him away?”
“River, he’s gone. His body is downstairs if you want to see. I’ll take you, but no more screaming.”
I can’t breathe. “He’s really gone?”
“Yes. And I really need to help my parents right now. I need—” Kyle’s voice cracks.
“Oh god. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Kyle needs to be with his family, and here he is worrying about me.
“Do you want to see him or not?”
I do. “Yes. Yes. I want to see him.” I’ll never believe he’s gone if I don’t.
A week later, I’m standing at the back of the church in my old hometown, staring at a giant photo of Huff’s sweet face. The photo next to the casket is from before that night, when his face was thinner. It’s the same smile I’ve known since we were in the second grade.
What gets me is how many people have shown up. Strangers. Acquaintances. His family and mine. The parking lot is packed with news vans and creepy assholes who just want to get a look at the faces of those who loved the world’s first human being with abilities only seen in the movies.
They call him Mr. Ultra Mega Love now, and it makes me want to cry and laugh hysterically every time I hear it. It’s so corny. Why did I say that to those reporters? I know it was the heat of the moment, but this isn’t how I want him remembered. It sounds like a name belonging to one of those dumb cartoons Huff loved so much. What I hate most is that it makes him sound like he wasn’t real. A real guy. A real person. The man I loved. Now he’s been reduced to wild debates and conspiracy theories on the internet.
Everyone has an opinion about the drug and where it really came from. Super-soldier potion developed by the military. Extraterrestrial-DNA-infused serum. They call the forty people who are hooked on the stuff “crazy.” Others call them junkies. Some have genuine sympathy for my sisters who were given nearly toxic doses of the drug without knowing. They started crashing almost immediately, which was why they all got sick.
Keni is evil. She did it to teach them a lesson. And then control them.
All I can say is it’s too much. And I don’t have my best friend by my side to help me cope.
Yes, he’s dead.
I saw the body. Kyle held my hand the entire time. Huff looked so peaceful and handsome. But the life was gone from his face.
After that, my parents showed up and took me home. Our sorority house was flooded on the first floor, and it’ll be months before we can all move back in. If I move back at all.
I know Huff would want me to muscle through all this, but how can I? People stare everywhere I go. Reporters follow me all hours of the day, begging for interviews.
Huff’s stupid roommate, Ronno, was offered six figures for some lame book, My Roommate, the Secret Superhero.
Seriously, Ronno? You knew him, like, what? Two days? Idiot.
But I don’t have the energy to get angry anymore. My life as I once knew it is gone and replaced with a heart that doesn’t work anymore.
I wipe away a tear from my raw cheek as Kyle goes up to the podium to talk about his brother. I can’t watch. I can’t be here.
I don’t want closure.
I just want Huff back.