Free 18 Things by Jamie Ayres

white.
    Now, everything in my life hung in this gray area called the unknown. I wanted to convey a brave face tonight but didn’t want to be a poser. Because truthfully, I was terrified, and no amount of therapy or life list would fix that.
    Huddling my legs close to my chest, I rocked back and forth in the fetal position until I glimpsed two things—an unframed photo of Conner and me at the beach, sitting on his nightstand, and a hair scrunchie I lost featured prominently on his bedpost. No matter how many months these items rested here, they now served as signs to pull myself together and honor Conner’s memory.
    I grabbed my old hair scrunchie and the picture of Conner and me, then slid them into the pocket of my hoodie.
    “Find something worth keeping?”
    I jumped at the sound of Kyle’s voice. “You scared the bejeezus out of me.”
    “Sorry.” He narrowed his eyes, eyebrows pulling down in concentration.
    S.T.A.R.
“It’s okay. I guess Robert gave you the message, too?”
    “Yeah. There’s only two things I can think of wanting though.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and I could tell being here killed a little part of him too. “His song book, because I know there were songs in the works in there, and I think he’d want us to use them, and his guitar. His dad said he’d want us to have it.”
    I pointed to the dresser beside Conner’s bed, the mirror mounted on the wall above the chest of drawers reflecting all our sadness. “I know the song book is in the top drawer.”
    When Conner was alive, his room was a mess. I came over every Thursday night to help him study for Friday tests, and I often tidied up for him.
    After retrieving the items, Kyle turned and faced me. “You ready to head outside to the bonfire?”
    My eyes watered at the mirrored reflection of just us two standing alone in Conner’s room, knowing he’d never come back. “Yes, it’s a little weird being in here now.”
    “Lewis Carroll for sure.”
    I shook my head, thinking Nate’s offbeat remarks were already influencing Kyle’s vernacular.
    “I mean, yeah, weird.”
    Someone stomped down the steps. Conner’s room took up the Anderson’s spacious basement, a perfect practice venue for the Cantankerous Monkey Squad. We looked over and found Sean staring back at us.
    “This is weird,” Sean said.
    Kyle nodded. “We were just discussing that.” He held up Conner’s things. “Got the song book and guitar.”
    “Great minds think alike.” Sean tapped his finger against his temple and walked to the closet. “That’s what I was coming down here for. And one more thing.”
    “You want one of his shirts?” Kyle asked.
    Even though Conner’s family was loaded, the majority of his wardrobe consisted of Goodwill finds.
    Sean held out two white tees. One featured a hot dog and said, ‘The dog kids love to bite.’ The T-shirt was an advertisement for some food company and so was the other, which said, ‘My fanny has no fat.’
    Kyle meandered over, then took the fanny one. “I guess it would be cool to wear his shirts to gigs sometimes, honor his place in the band.”
    Sean grabbed one more T-shirt from the closet, a black one that said, ‘Trust Me. I’m a Jedi Master.’ “Nothing honors Conner more than a Star Wars shirt, and we need one for each member of the band.”
    Suddenly, a moment of silence struck us. A crushing disappointment weighed on me, and maybe them too. We’d never see Conner again. As we all stood there, I felt so small, so insignificant, contemplating how quickly life could end.
    I picked at a loose thread on my sweater and thought about Nate instead, wondering if the band picked him as an official replacement yet.
    “Now, can we get outta here? Not to sound insensitive, but I don’t need Conner’s stuff to remember him. And being in here creeps me out,” Kyle said, clearing his throat while sliding Conner’s guitar strap over his shoulder.
    “True dat,” Sean said, leading the way out