“Yeah…” he let out.
“What’s she say?”
“She said that I am a great person, she wants to be friends, she’s too busy, and she will cherish the letter. I don’t know what to feel, I don’t know how to feel.”
“Jesus man, I’m sorry.”
“It just sucks, you know? When your heart has been completely shattered, and there’s no one to blame but yourself. I put everything into that letter, how could she turn me down?”
“I’m sorry, man.”
I wouldn’t see him until we got back from break in the New Year.
CHAPTER 19.
Just Impolite
LILA’S PARENTS BEGAN to be a lot more comfortable with the idea of me being her boyfriend, and so I’d continue to have dinners with the family and when her parents weren’t home I’d spend the night over with her in her bed, (though I had to assure my parents that her parents were home, and Lila had to assure her parents that I was in the guest bed). After a week and a half, Lila again went away for vacation, but we Skyped and texted, so it wasn’t too bad to be apart from each other, and when school resumed it was like we didn’t miss a beat.
Lila and I laid together, semi-clothed, in the back of her car chatting after school the first day back.
“Are you nervous about getting letters back from colleges?” she asked.
“I mean, yeah, I guess, but I know things will work out, they always do even if they don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the worst case scenario isn’t even that bad; worst case is I don’t get accepted anywhere, and I just go to community college for a year and reapply after that. I’ll still be healthy, have a roof over my head, food on the table, and I- I’ll still have you.”
She kissed me.
“I mean, you won’t have to worry, you’re a genius,” I said.
She sighed, “Don’t you say that too, please.”
“What?”
“Everyone says that, you know what a burden that is, Alex?”
“But it’s true though, you’re incredible, and smart, and kind, and I love you.”
“I love you too, but I just work hard, like everyone else.”
“You don’t have to be modest with me, Lila, you deserve to brag.”
“It wouldn’t be bragging, I’ve had to be like this Alex, do you know how hard it is to go to a school where your dad’s a teacher, and a good teacher and everyone automatically expects you to be smart and to do well? It means you don’t get congratulated for your successes because they’re taken as a given, and you get chastised even harder for your failures.” Her eyes welled with tears as she spoke, and I held her close.
“I’m so sorry, it’s okay though, I love you, I love you, Lila,” I said to her as she began to cry, “it’s okay, just let it out.” She cried for a little bit more, and then I asked, “But your dad, I’m sure if you just told him he’d understand.”
She drew back a bit, “Alex, you don’t understand. I don’t know what you think my life is like at home but—”
“I’m sure it’s better than fighting, your parents love you, and they care and they—”
“Alex. At least your parents fight. Mine don’t even fight anymore, they barely talk about anything anymore, it’s this horrible status-quo, ‘if we don’t talk about it nothing’s wrong’ mentality, and it’s terrible. My dad is completely checked out, they both are, all they barely even care about is work, and he drinks all the time because he’s so sad but will never show it or try and get help. He comes to school every day with a thermos full of coffee and just enough whiskey to make it through the day but not get drunk. And I can’t tell anyone because then he’d lose his job and then he’d really have nothing. And ever since my sister went to college, there’s been no one I feel like I can talk to, and I feel so alone at home without her there and—”
“I’m here for you, Lila, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m here for you, I love you.”
“I know, Alex, I’m sorry I yelled, I love you too, so much,” she said wiping her face of the tears and kissing me.
We held each other and pecked each other’s lips saying ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you too.’ I texted my coach saying I was sick, and Lila and I stayed in her car until seven at night when I had to get home from ‘practice.’
CHAPTER 20.
Talk Show Host
THINGS WITH LILA and I were still perfect. It was a different story with Ken though, it seemed the world had gone upside down on him. He told me Livi was dating someone now, that Brooke hates him, that he has no friends, and that he wanted to just die. He was going a mile a minute, and I tried to get him to just slow down and tell me one thing at a time. He just said not to worry, which made me worry even more.
That night he apologized for being so brash and sent me some entries explaining the things that had happened.
First:
I just got off the phone with Brooke. It was good though, good to talk to her about it. And she told me about everything that happened last year, everything in their lives that I just wasn’t a part of. She told me about the summer before freshman year, when Carl was with Jamie (summer relationships never last), they ended it before school started. She told me about the night before Homecoming when she talked with Carl, and they decided that they liked each other and decided to go out without really telling Jamie first. She told me how they had made out and talked outside during the dance. She told me that Jamie found out when she came outside to look for Carl during the slow dance and saw them together, Brooke said that Jamie ‘just knew’ and she ran into the girl’s bathroom crying and then left immediately. Brooke and Carl stayed outside even then. She told me how upset Jamie was when she found out and how she was crushed and has been upset to this day. Brooke told me how she’d felt and feels horrible, and how she hates herself for being so selfish and putting her feelings before her friends. She told me how she is still haunted by it, and how Jamie brings it up every so often.
Last month I remembered sitting down with Jamie one day after school when she looked particularly distraught, and I found the words ‘365 days’ written on her arm with a black sharpie. After considerable talking and comforting, I got her to tell me what happened. When I asked her what was on her arm and what it meant, she told me that that was how long it’s been since Carl had broken her heart. She took it hard, and I can tell things like that really affect her. She seems melancholy about it even now, bringing it up at times as if only for dramatic effect though, and to make those around her think about her. A true writer.
At the time I did not know the full extent of the story, but I do now. I think they all just need to get over themselves and move on so they can be the friends that they were meant to be. Also, a lot of the fault can be put on Carl anyway, not knowing what he was doing. Tomorrow, I will pick up the phone with Brooke again. I will also talk to Livi, soon I hope, and figure things out. Brooke really has no idea what a good person she is, and how bad others (like me) are.
And it only seemed to get worse:
It’s over, Facebook fucking official. Livi is with Toby. That fuck, fuck them, I’ll find my own way, but just why him? I will confront him, and then find my own way, I have to now. Fuck it. I have so much, but I can never have the one thing I want.
. . . . .
I’m at least a little more calm now. I just couldn’t deal with it. It was just at the top of the Facebook newsfeed, and I hit the wall, and I just walked outside, ran. I just ran, down the cement alley. The sky and air were at that point of it almost raining, so everything was wet, and the air was thick; I was panting, and my bare feet smacked against the wet ground as I just ran. I
just fucking ran. I ran down the alley, down the street, ran until I had to catch my breath, ran until I hurt all over. And then I walked back home. Damp all over, my face cold and wet and stinging. The cold air hit my face so hard and fast that tears streamed down my face. Everything was dark and grey. The pavement, the sky, the old wooden fences and cinderblock walls of the alley, the road, even the air was grey. I walked back home, catching my breath and collecting my thoughts. How, just fucking how? Goddamn it! What am I going to do now? What can I do? I’m just going to go to bed for tonight, if I can, I hope that takes me away at least until tomorrow. Just Goddamnit. Why can’t I be the happy one, why can’t I ever just be the happy one? These girls deserve so much better than the idiot jerks they’re with. Stupid whores, they think they’re too good for me? Why can’t I ever be happy?
And worse:
Nothing happened, nothing ever does. I didn’t do shit today. Last night I went from mad to sad to hopeful to determined by the time it was morning. I didn’t sleep at all. I was so fucking happy this morning. I felt like I could do something, like I was kind of free and could finally ask a girl out, Beatrice, or someone. But as the day went on, my happiness was slowly chiseled away until now, I’m back to being just as sad and angry as I was. I feel like I have no power, and I need that. Is it even worth resolving to do anything anymore? I could talk to Beatrice tomorrow or Monday, or just give up on that. And I have so much, Alexander, Reuben, I have so much, just not her, not Livi. I just want a girlfriend, someone to hold, and nothing more. Just that.
What could fucking Toby have that I don’t? Or even Alex, he’s no different than me, and he still gets the girl, and fuck, he could have stopped me giving that goddamned letter to Livi and ruining everything for me. Goddamnit.
In the morning, I was so pumped up, so very happy and hopeful. But as the day went on I just felt worse and worse, heavier. Until I had just given up.
I don’t know, I just don’t know. I just know I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be at school, I don’t want to see people, or hear them, or deal with them, or any of this. There are times I just feel like I want to go away, to disappear, to shrink behind something, be hidden and then just disappear. Like I used to do when I was in 5th-grade violin; I was taller than everyone else, and I didn’t know any violin so I always stood in the back row and bent my knees so the teacher wouldn’t see me not playing behind everyone else. I just wanted to shrink away and disappear. Like when I’m near the ocean and look into the dark water, deep into it, and just want to fall in and sink and be gone. I can’t do this anymore.
I really can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to feel this, I don’t want to be here. It’s late at night now, the house is so quiet. The night is so dark and so quiet, I can hear dogs off in the distance barking though. The house feels so empty. I feel so empty and so angry.
I got a zipper bag from the kitchen, tiptoeing back to my room, I put two sharpies in the bag, I put them on top of each other in an ‘X,’ and I put it on the floor and pressed down in the center of the ‘X’ until I heard two snaps. I’m looking at the bag, the black ink with tones of deep iridescent blue and purple is smearing the bottom. I shake the bag, and now I’m just looking at it, I’m still writing this, and I don’t know why I just feel so empty. Empty.
I opened the bag and put it over my nose and mouth; I took a big breath in through my nose, exhaled outside of the bag and then took another breath in it. I dropped the bag on my desk, picked this up, then I sat down on my bed. The head rush was instantaneous, I feel light headed now, I feel tired. I’m done. The sensation is overwhelming. I wanted to be anywhere, but here, I feel everywhere but here. My head just hurts, and I just feel dizzy and tired. I’m tired. I’m done. I’m done. Night.
And with that, he said ‘goodnight’ to me. I thought back to the first time I met that confused emo kid, and about the violent reputation that preceded him. I worried about what was going through his head.
The next day at school Mr. Darcy saw me in the hall and beckoned me into his classroom.
“Hey, Alex?” he said once the door shut.
“Yes, sir?”
“Ken showed me a thing he’d written this morning,” he shuffled through some papers on top of his desk and handed me one of them, “here, this, do you know about this?”
I looked over the page, it looked like a more edited version of what he’d sent me last night, “umm, yeah, actually, he sent me something like this last night.”
“It’s not fiction, is it?” he said, not wanting it to be true.
“No, I don’t think it is.”
“It reads like a manifesto, Alex. Has he been acting up lately?”
“No, not really, he’s just been down I guess, he’s not violent or anything I don’t think.” But as soon as I said that, I had to think twice about whether I really thought he was or not.
“Well, when I read it, he waited for me to read it, I told him he should think about talking to the school psychiatrist about it, Doctorrrr…” he trailed off searching for the name.
“Kindlon,” I said.
“Yes, Kindlon, Dr. Kindlon. But when I said so, he just snatched the paper up and stormed out of the room. Teenagers scare the shit out of me, Alex, what should I do?
“Jesus, I don’t know.”
“Neither do I, maybe you could talk to him about talking to someone about what he’s feeling or going through, maybe it’d help hearing that from a friend,” Mr. Darcy put forth to me.
“Maybe he thought you were that friend.”
That night I got another email from Ken.
Alexander, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know, I just don’t know what to write, what to do, anything. You’re the only person I can talk to anymore. Today was bad, really bad, this entire week I’ve just been receding further and further into myself. I want to end this, Alex. Last week, whatever the fuck happened, was bullshit. I don’t know. Now, it’s all gone. I don’t feel anything, and I know that this all sounds like poetic bullshit, but it is true. I’m disgusted with Brooke, who is with that fuck Carl. Why, why, why? Who the fuck is he but a fucking beta queer? So fuck him, fuck them. Jamie means nothing anymore, nothing, she hates me, and I hate her. The fucking cunt, selfish, stupid, bitch. And I can’t even bring myself to think about Livi. What is her problem, the one person in the entire fucking school that doesn’t like me, and the one person in the whole fucking school that I loved? Fuck her. I can’t stand those fucking sluts and what they’ve done to me, this involuntary celibacy, fuck them. And Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, I trusted him, I thought he was a friend, but he just fucking rejected me like fucking everyone else. And god fucking damnit Alex, you spend so much goddamn time with Delilah now that I barely see you, this is what all these fucking girls do, try and ruin my fucking life, I hate this. I just want this to stop. I wish I could come home, I wish there was something good here. I want to feel something again. I wanna be a celebrity martyr for all the lonely fucks like me out there. I just wish I could kill myself, but I’m even too much of a fucking coward to do that. I don’t know what to do. This could be my own private suicide. I just don’t know what to do.
“Ken?”
Nothing.
“Kenneth?”
Nothing.
“Kenneth, please, just talk to me.”
Nothing.
I had no idea what to do. I thought I knew him enough to know that he wouldn’t hurt himself, but still, I don’t really know. I’ll talk to him when I see him at school tomorrow. He deserves not to feel the way he does, no one deserves to feel like that, and if being there for him is what it takes then I need to do that. I just need to talk to him tomorrow and figure out what’s going on in that head of his.
CHAPTE
R 21.
Disarm
THAT MORNING I TOLD Dan about what Ken had said, and he told me that Ken was never my responsibility and that I should just let the kid be angsty if he wants but strongly suggest that he talks to someone professional about all of these feelings. I told Lila only part of what Ken had told me, and she said I had already done what I could to help, she told me to be safe and be smart, and that if I thought that Ken could do anything to himself or others to just call the police. I told her that I didn’t think that it was that serious because I didn’t want her to worry. I hated that this was suddenly all on me now, and really I didn’t want to call the cops on the kid. I was just in over my head, I had no idea what to do at all.
I looked for Ken at school, but I didn’t see him all day. I texted him to ask if everything was alright but got no reply. After a normal day of classes, Lila and I drove out to the neighborhood around school to find somewhere hidden to park. On the way there, my phone buzzed, but since I was driving, I asked Lila to read it for me. She pulled my phone from my pocket.
“It’s from Ken,” she said, “do you want me to read it?”
I pulled into a parking spot and shut off the car, “no, it’s fine.” I was relieved that he had texted, and that put me at ease. Lila and I had quiet sex in the back of my car until dusk, and I missed practice.
After getting home, I read the text, “Alex, can we talk?” I texted back to ask what was up, but he didn’t respond.
That night, at around three in the morning my phone buzzed on my bedside table. It was a text from Ken, “Don’t go to school tomorrow Alex, please, and tell Lila to do the same, I know how happy she makes you.”
No More Dead Kids Page 10