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Ephram notices that he never sees Bright Abbott hanging out with his friends anymore.
He notices that Amy is completely wrecked, and that his father needs all the support he can get. He notices the Hart's go out to social gatherings less and less, and that people have stopped talking about Colin. He notices that, at Colin's wake, Bright cries in the back room away from all the people, just to protect Amy from getting even more upset. And, Ephram notices that, when all the people wind out of the funeral home, Bright trails, dazed, behind them, sinking onto the stone wall and stares blankly at his hands. They're shaking.
Ephram tries not to stare, but his dad is still inside, paying his respects, and Bright is right there. Looking pained. A similar yet different type of hurt to when Ephram sat, dwelling on his mother’s death.
"Bright," says Ephram. "Are you...?"
Bright looks up, startled. "Oh. Shit. Ephram, I didn't know anyone was out here."
"Are you okay?" Ephram repeats.
Bright laughs halfheartedly. "Yeah. I have to be."
"No," Ephram replies quickly, "You don't." He feels his gaze turn from curious to intense, and he wonders when a part of him became so worried for the wellbeing of this kid that he kind of used to hate.
Bright stifles another broken laugh. "Yeah, I do, actually." His trembling hands fly up to tug on his curls, hard.
Ephram frowns. "Could you maybe elaborate?"
A gust of wind pushes the tree behind Ephram into his back, memories of his mother's death diggiing into his skin; curling into his spine.
"I just want to go home," sobs Bright, and Ephram startles.
"Well, your parents and Amy should be out in a few minutes, but-"
"No," chokes Bright, "That's not- you're not- you're not getting it. I want to go home. Like, before I screwed up and drank that goddamn alcohol and drove all over those fields and flipped the freaking truck over and it killed him, I killed him-"
Ephram practically trips over himself standing up. "S-slow down, you didn't- you didn't kill him."
"I was driving the truck," confesses Bright, "I might as well have. I was stupid, and it was his idea but I went along with it-"
Ephram sits down awkwardly on the stone wall beside him. "Everyone makes mistakes, Bright."
Bright's red-rimmed eyes widen. "Yeah, okay, but my mistake killed my best friend!" His voice is loud, cracking on every word's end. He heaves a large breath, and slumps into a slouch. "I keep saying I want to go home, like, subconsciously. But what even is home? Anymore? Without Colin?" He digs the toe of his shoe into the ground. "He was the only one who never called me stupid, you know? Like yeah, I have other friends at school, but whenever I didn't know something, Colin stuck by me. Sure, he'd tease me a little, but he'd always be on my side."
Ephram is quiet for a minute. "Home is a hard place to find. It's taken me this long just to call Everwood my home, and even still. Without my mom, it's like... a new home. Different."
"I don't want things to be different," says Bright.
"I know," replies Ephram. "And I know this doesn't help. But I'm sorry. That all this happened."
Bright dismisses him. "It's not your fault, Brown."
"He wouldn't blame you, Bright," Ephram adds, his tone serious. He smiles slightly. "You know that."
"Yeah." Bright squints up at the sun, peeking through the clouds. "Hey. Thanks, for being there for Amy. She needed someone, and you were there."
Ephram nods. "Well. She's my... friend."
Bright rolls his eyes, grinning. Ephram flushes, because he might as well just say how much Amy means to him.
"You going to be alright?" Ephram says, when he sees the door to the funeral home opening, his father's boots appearing.
"Eventually," says Bright. "Thanks for... this. You tell anyone, though, and you're a goner." The threat is empty, because Bright's smiling, and he extends a hand. "So. Friends?"
"Sure."