Emmy and I met about 10 years ago, on the first Friday of first grade. Unsurprisingly, it was the 13th. That was a running joke in our friendship, that something was going to go wrong. I guess it was fate, then, that she died. But we’re not there yet. 

Everyone at school knew about us. Emmy and Jess, the dynamic duo, ruled over our delegates with a firm but generous hand. Our delegates being the students of Jonathan Powell High. We were both fake blondes, not that we would tell anyone that. Our dads both were lawyers at the most successful firm in the city, our moms both bonded over the fact that they never cry and love wine, we both dated boys on the football team, and we were best friends. Everything was going right for us, until I met Tyler. Tyler didn’t like me- not at all, in fact- and that made me more interested in him than any of the other guys at school. Of course I knew that my boyfriend had been cheating on me for months with the head cheerleader, not that I cared. I wasn’t going to break up with him, too bad for appearances. The thing is, Tyler was Emmy’s crush, and for as much as I knew he was off-limits, I couldn’t resist. When Emmy found out about Tyler and I dating, she was furious. I mean, steam out of her ears, red in the face furious. I tried to talk to her, and calm her down, but there was nothing I could do. I waited for her to cool down, because fights happen all the time, and a boy was a stupid reason to ruin our friendship. Until I found out that it wasn’t the head cheerleader my boyfriend was cheating on me with. It was her. And that was it for Emmy and I. We blocked one another, stopped carpooling to school, and we canceled our joint hair appointments. 10 years of history broke faster than my heart. Life wasn’t the same without her, I walked quieter in the halls, went to bed earlier because I had no one to call, and started choosing my own outfits at night since I had no one to coordinate colors with. I had gotten into the habit of being on my own, until people started coming up to me with questions. Emmy hadn’t been to school in a week, and all of her teachers came to me to see if I knew anything. Of course I told them that I hadn’t spoken to her in months, but I was worried for Emmy. She was still the person I loved most in the world, even after everything. I went to her house and no one opened the door. I drove 30 minutes to her therapist’s house to see if she had met with her recently. I even asked our hairstylist, and nothing. No one had seen or heard from Emmy in over a week. I decided to wait and call her parents tomorrow, and I went to eat dinner, leaving my phone upstairs in the process. When I came upstairs to go to bed, I checked my phone to find one missed notification. A call from an unknown number. I thought it was probably spam so I turned off my phone and tucked myself in. It called me again, and I blocked it. It wasn’t three hours before my mom shook me awake. I jerked up, jumpy from the sudden and unwarranted end to my slumber. My groggy eyes opened and I saw that my mom was crying. The next words that she said made that minute the worst one of my life. Tears, warm and plentiful, streamed out of my eyes as I shook my head. No. No. Emmy was not dead. It wasn’t true. This was a cruel trick to upset me. It wasn’t real. I was dreaming. I am dreaming. I am dreaming, right? But I couldn’t put off the truth. We were cursed from the start, two golden girls with a rusty ending. And god, I should have picked up the phone.