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“What do we say?” Charlie whispered, so quietly that no one else heard him, or at least they didn’t know how to respond. They were standing outside Neil and Todd’s—now only Todd’s—dorm room. The air felt heavy, oppressive, as if it were silencing words before they could even be formed. The hallways of Welton Academy, usually alive with the quiet hum of nighttime whispers or the rustling of pages, were eerily still, as though the very building itself was holding its breath, mourning.
Hager had come to wake Charlie up, his knock at the door sharp. "It’s an urgent phone call," Hager had said, his voice low and solemn. Charlie, still dopey and disoriented from sleep, had stumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes and fumbling to find his slippers. How he wished now that he had never answered that call. If he’d protested getting up, annoyed Hager enough that he’d give up and let him sleep, he could’ve slept through this night peacefully, avoiding the truth till morning.
The walk to the phone felt like a dream—a long, endless corridor of polished wood and dim light, where the shadows stretched endlessly and every footstep echoed like a thunderclap. The air felt colder, the walls closing in around him as he neared the office and the phone. When he picked up the receiver, he heard Mr. Perry’s voice, calm and composed, almost detached. He said something, Charlie really didn’t pay any attention, still half asleep. What woke him Mr.Perry’s next words: “Neil is dead.”he suddenly stated, the words numbing Charlie’s whole body. He didn’t even try to question it, the way it was said, the hidden grief in a father’s voice, Charlie understood it to be true.
Charlie didn’t cry when he heard the words. He had stood there, as though the statement hadn’t fully registered. He politely thanked Mr. Perry for calling, muttered that he was sorry for his loss, and wished Mrs. Perry well. The words felt mechanical, like someone else was speaking for him. Then he hung up the phone. Hager had escorted him back to his room, murmuring something about how heaven had gained an angel. Charlie had nodded, agreed, and even managed to wish Hager a good night. But as soon as the door behind him shut, everything hit him at once. Every emotion, every memory, all the pain—it flooded him, overwhelming him in an instant. He sank to the floor, his back pressed against the door, his sobs choking out of him, raw and uncontrollable. Cameron had woken up to the sound.
When Charlie had somehow pulled himself together, probably still operating under shock, he knew he had to wake the others. The thought of them finding out in the morning, in a room full of classmates, was unbearable. He knocked softly on Meeks and Pitts' door, the sound of his knuckles against the wood louder than usual in the quiet of the night. Meeks opened the door first, his hair tousled and his eyes squinting in the dark without his glasses. Pitts was behind him, groggy and confused peering over the ginger boys shoulder.
Charlie stood in the doorway, his face pale, eyes red and swollen from crying. "What is it?" Meeks asked, his voice laced with confusion and concern. Charlie looked at both of them, struggling to find the words.
“Neil… Neil is dead,” Charlie finally managed, his voice cracking as he spoke.
At first, Pitts let out a small, disbelieving laugh, as if the reality of the words was too much to grasp. But when he looked at Meeks’ expression—one of shock and silent horror—Pitts’ laugh quickly turned into sobs, raw and pained. Meeks didn’t say a word, his face drained of all color. His hands shook as he went to get his glasses, and he followed Charlie out into the hall, his footsteps barely making a sound. The boys moved through the hall, the weight of the news settling on their shoulders as they walked to Knox’s room.
Knox was next. They decided to pull him out into the hallway before telling him, not wanting to wake his roommate. When they got him out of bed and into the hallways, Knox stood there with a sleepy smile, the remnants of a pleasant dream still lingering in his eyes. But that smile vanished as soon as he saw the looks on their faces. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice cracking with worry. Charlie took a deep breath before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper as he told Knox the truth. At first, Knox refused to believe it, convinced it was one of Charlie’s cruel jokes. But as he looked around at their tear-streaked faces, the reality crashed into him. His knees buckled, and he latched onto the person that was nearest to him, Cameron, sobbing into his shoulder as the truth settled in, heavy and unrelenting.
Now, they stood outside Todd’s door, the last in a line of grief they had no choice but to follow. The hallway felt small now, the walls pressing in on them, suffocating. The grief had drained them all—everyone had cried as much as they could, some sobbing, some shedding quiet tears. Both Charlie and Meeks had thrown up. But here they were, with nothing left to delay the inevitable. Everyone had managed to regain some composure—no one was sobbing on the floor gasping for air, but the grief was still there, a heavy presence that clung to them.
They all knew, instinctively, that it would hurt Todd the most. The had all adored Neil, but Todd and him had something deeper. Todd would feel this pain in a way that none of them could, and they knew no words could comfort him.
“I can’t do this,” Knox whispered, his voice trembling.
“You know we have to,” Meeks replied, leaning against the wall, still feeling a bit sick from the grief that churned in his stomach.
“Fuck,” Charlie muttered under his breath, the word filled with all the anger and sorrow he felt.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie gently opened the door, the hinges creaking softly in the silence. The room was dark, except for the sliver of moonlight that streamed through the window onto the walls. Todd was peacefully asleep, his face calm and undisturbed by the weight that had already crushed the rest of them.
Charlie hesitated, his hand hovering above Todd’s shoulder. He wished he could let Todd sleep a moment longer, keep him in that peaceful oblivion for just a few more minutes. But he knew he couldn’t. Charlie gently shook Todd’s shoulder, his hand trembling.
“Todd, Todd, wake up,” he whispered, his voice shaking and barely audible.
Todd stirred, his brow furrowing in confusion as he blinked awake. “Hmm?” he mumbled, still half-asleep, his voice thick with grogginess.
Charlie took a breath, trying to find the right words, but they wouldn’t come. He could have been more gentle, could have let Todd wake fully before breaking the news. But in that moment, he didn’t know how.
“Neil’s dead.”