Best Friends, Right?

Hey Charlie, you ready for the big game?" Paul asks through my bedroom door.
"Uh...just a minute Paul!" I reply.
Paul knocks loudly on the door as I haul Geoff's lifeless body into the bathroom.
"Ya need some help in there, buddy?" he jokes.
"Ah, no, I'm fine!" I say, trying to keep my voice from sounding strained as I push the corpse into the bathtub.
"Dude, you need to hurry or we'll be late!" Paul complains.
"I'm hurrying, okay?" I say, annoyed.
"Okay, that's it, I'm coming in there!" he announces.
"Paul, wait!" I shout as I slam the bathroom door shut.
My door opens, and I see Paul standing there, decked out in his baseball gear, complete with his signed baseball from Babe Ruth.
"Bro, what's taking so long? C'mon, let's---" he stops short, looking at my shirt as I press myself against the bathroom door.
I look down at my ruined T-shirt, which is now more red than white.
Paul looks at it for a few more seconds before looking back up at me.
"Charlie..." he says cautiously, "is...is that...blood?"
"Uhmm..."I stammer nervously. "No?"
"That's not a question you answer with another question!" Paul shouts.
"Paul just...just forget you saw it, okay?" I plead.
Paul's face softens. "Charlie...I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything, okay? Now tell me, who hurt you?"
My stomach drops. Paul never did assume the worst about people. He was always an optimist at heart, I suppose.
I heave a sigh. "It's not like that, Paul." I say tiredly.
"Then what is it like?"
I pause for a moment, then open up the bathroom door and gesture for him to go inside. He takes a few careful steps towards me, then walks inside the bathroom. I watch him freeze as he sees Geoff's body. I can't see his facial expression, but I know he must be hurt. Geoff was his brother, after all.
I gently place my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Paul..." I say with a hint of remorse as I raise my knife with my free hand.
"Best friends, right?"