Let's Go Dancing in the Rain

spring break of 1999 was perfect - i got to spend the entire time with my friends just vegging and hanging out. of course, there was that english project due the day i got back, which i put off until the sunday before. i was sitting at my computer furiously making up an essay when my little sister walked in from softball practice eating a snow cone and laughing with a sticky smile.
"whatcha working on?" she asked lightheartedly.
i smiled at her appearance and told her that it was just an english essay. i turned back and continued clacking away. from behind my shoulder she tried to start a conversation.
"so..." she began. "you know a kid in your grade named justin? justin schultz?" she licked at a drip on her snow cone.
"yeah, i know him," i replied. i had gone to elementary school with justin. he had to be the greatest guy i knew. he never stopped smiling. justin had tried to teach me to play soccer in the third grade. i couldn't get it, so he smiled and told me to do my best and cheer everyone else on. i'd kind of lost touch with him in the last year, but i told my sister yes, anyway.
"well," she said, trying to keep her messy snow cone under control. "his church group went skiing this week." she paused to take a lick.
lucky guy, i thought.
my sister swallowed the ice chips and continued, "so he went skiing and today he died."
i felt the blood drain from my face in disbelief. my hands froze on the keyboard, and a line of Rs inched across the screen. mu jaw slowly dropped as i tried to process what she'd said. breathe, something in my head screamed. i shook my head and whipped around to look at my sister.
she was still innocently munching on her snow cone, staring at it determinedly. her eyes rose to mine and she leaned back, a little startled. "what?" she asked.
"y-you're joking, right? who told you that? i don't believe it. how? are you sure?" i spit out a long string of questions.
"claire," she stopped me. she began a little slower this time. "a girl on my softball team was house-sitting for them. justin's parents called her today and told her, and she told me. sorry, i didn't think you knew him." she sat very still waiting for my response.
every memory i had of justin flashed through my mind. i inhaled slowly. "no. no! NO!" i tried to scream. no words came out. i sat up clumsily and shakily ran from the room with my sister behind me yelling, "wait! i'm sorry..."
i called one of our mutual friends right away. she told me between sobs that no one knew why he died. the thirteen-year-old was as healthy as a horse. he fell asleep on saturday night in the hotel room, and when his roommate tried to wake him up sunday morning, justin wasn't breathing. i didn't want her to hear me cry, so i quickly got off the phone.

chicken soup for the teenage soul on tough stuff: stories of tough times and lessons learned... copyright © 2001 by jack canfield and mark victor hansen... pages 293 - 296