Felix had a long neck. He kept his chin tucked, but I could
still tell. He sat in the back of class and picked his nose when he thought no
one was looking. When I saw him I’d nudge Eric E. who would kick Eric R. We’d
all laugh. Together we were known as the three Erics. I don’t know when they
stopped calling us that. By middle school maybe.
Eric Rothschild was hit by a drunk driver only a week after
he got his license. Felix had been in the car with him. All I could think was,
When did he become friends with that nose-picker? My girlfriend says I’m too
prone to nostalgia. But I don’t think that’s what made me visit Felix in the
hospital.
The elevator doors opened and it smelled like chemical
vomit. The nurse at the front had given me the number 204 which I wrote on my
hand. I followed the arrows and tried not to make eye contact. Inside-
