He looks up from the article and straight at me just as I pass him. The smile on his face as he laughed with the other guy lets me know that this encounter wasn’t by chance; he saw me and planned to mock me. I think about stopping, confronting him, but don’t. I’m too shocked that the ignorance in the upper crust runs so deep as to be oblivious to any common decency.
They don’t play fair and they never will.
Nikki and I did see Celine walking through the courtyard one day. My skin crawled and I could hear my heart beating in my head as I saw her walk with her chin held high. Everyone who passed her held their whispers until she passed or followed her with their eyes, yet still she showed no shame or the pangs of rejection. I guess that is what it takes to be untouchable for her now.
“Nikki,” I say then nod toward her.
“Holy shit,” she says and I’m a little confused by her exaggerated reaction until I notice her nod ahead of her and look. Brody is unknowingly walking straight toward Celine, shifting his backpack and typing something into his cell phone. I look back at Celine as she shifts her books in her arms and brushes her hair off her shoulder. She doesn’t seem to notice Brody yet, or maybe she is purposefully pretending to not notice him. If Brody sees her, I don’t know what he might do.
“Please don't look up, Brody,” I mutter, knowing good and well the only one hearing my plea is Nikki.
Nikki starts to rise as Brody and Celine unknowingly close in on each other.
“What are you doing?” I ask, worried that Nikki is going to do something that could make things worse. I take hold of her elbow and keep her by my side.
I look back out the window, fearful that something bad is about to happen.
Suddenly, Brody stops walking then takes a right, heading toward the administration building.
Nikki settles back into her chair and we both outwardly sigh, relieved Brody didn’t have to encounter her.
Who was he texting?
I follow Celine with my eye and as she shifts her books in her arms once again. I notice a slip of paper float from her arms onto the ground. She keeps walking and doesn’t seem to notice it has dropped. Just then the bell rings and I tell Nikki I will see her later as I make my way into the courtyard. I admit, I am curious and want to see what she has let fall to the ground. Picking it up, I notice it is a clipping from a newspaper. I recognize the title right away: A School and Boy Dismantled.
A chill runs through my body, from my feet to my hands and the fingers that clutch the defaced scrap of newspaper as I read her writing along the margins: Hypocrite ... you will never understand ... fucking dramatic. Then the threat, referring to my comment about the bleed out of this virus: They have no idea - don’t know what they have done. Next time it will be invisible.
I crumble the paper up and tuck it in my jean pocket and walk to class. The way it reads, it is like she intended for me to see it. I wouldn’t put it past her watching us from the courtyard in the cafeteria, then dropping it on purpose with the thought that Nikki or I wouldn’t be able to resist picking up what she had“accidentally” dropped. I don’t show it or mention it to Nikki. I hold onto it as a reminder though, a reminder that redemption for Celine, Spencer, the elite, means something totally different from what it means to the rest of us.
~February
I notice the paralysis that befell onto our school and community starting to lift without a real purpose other than the fact that everyone was carrying on with their lives and the stigma was disappearing into the fabric of our small town. By the second week in February, remnants of small talk conversation about the shooting, Gavin, and all of us involved lingers, but only among those that thrive on keeping any gossip alive; every town, every high school has them, right? Community events, festivals, upcoming prom and graduation are the highlights of the lives around us now, while we are still living through the repercussions and the loss of one of our own; Gavin.
~Evan
Chapter 6:
Paralysis
For a few days, as I overhear talks of prom dates, shopping for dresses, getting limos, and what universities and colleges have accepted who after graduation, I have hopes that this high school mentality of forgetting is catching and that it will inevitably spread to us and cleanly mend our minds. That is an impossibilitywhen you don’t share the mentality of a typical high school kid though. To add to that, we are too close to the circumstances, wings too close to the fire to flee.
Then, the second week in February, I am proven wrong as I’m called into Ms. Warren’s counseling office.
***
Once Ms. Warren and I sit, she begins,“Evan, there is something I haven’t told you that I have been meaning to say. I am sorry I was not resourceful enough for you and the others when you needed me. I was pulled in many directions while everything was happening with you and your friends in the fall. I know it is not an excuse. I need to find ways to be more hands on with the students. Yes, we are short staffed, but that isn’t an excuse for something like this to happen to students. I wish I could turn back timeand change the way things ended.”
Her and I both, and her apology would have meant something to me if she stopped before she said she wished she could turn back time. That statement just makes me reconsider how full of shit she really is. Her seeing the mistakes doesn’t release Gavin from Pembroke and it doesn’t help our lives move forward; they are still frozen in time.
Even though I am bitter, I can hear passion in her voice, and suddenly she doesn’t completely suck. I know she doesn’t have extra help to cover all of the students here at Braxton High. I kind of feel sorry for her now. It is like watching a hamster run on an exercise wheel. You know the hamster is going nowhere, just continuing to spin the wheel. The stupid thing thinks the faster it goes, it will outrun the wheel, or maybe break free. It never happens though. The hamster and Ms. Warren never break free or break through.
She doesn’t seem to miss a beat as she changes subjects.“I have received quite a few calls from state universities mentioning both yours and Nikki Bell’s names.”
“Why?” I ask bluntly.
Ms. Warren holds up the school paper, our article on the front page.“They want to know who these two young women are thatso eloquently detailed the workings of teen society and how it leads to situations like Gavin’s.”
I am speechless, unsure of what to say.
“University of North Dallas, Texas State University, the University of Texas at Austin, Rice University ... they all want to know what your plans are for college.”
“Mine?”
She nods.
“College?”
Get with it, Evan, yes college!
It seems foreign, a distant future event that shouldn’t be in my vocabulary right now. A pipe dream that could not be attained especially by someone like me. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Yes, well, that is what you said when you enrolled. I recall asking you to come and see me once you had thought about it.”
I don’t like her calling me out and I don’t like how snide she sounds.“Yeah, well I haven’t had much time to consider it lately.”
Being the smart woman she is,she catches my intent.“I know you haven’t. Look, I wouldn’t have called you in knowing what you have been going through with the shooting and your own mental state.”
Wow, she even added my mental state, good memory. Touché, Ms. Warren.
“It’s just when I got these calls, I knew it would be important to your immediate future, one that you may need help with; direction even.”
I didn’t intend to write this article with Nikki for some kind of ploy to get noticed by some big Texas university. I never wanted to be noticed and here I was being looked at by four of them.
“I didn’t write the article to get bragging rights or calls from colleges.”
“I know you didn’t, Evan.”
“Nikki and I wrote the article because we needed to express something for Gavin and al
l of the other students out there that feel the same, but are too afraid to say it.”
“And I am grateful that you have the guts to stand up for all of them, including yourself. You have to know that many articles have been written in our paper over the years and none of them have prompted the attention of universities and their admissions offices. You and Nikki Bell, you both have talent.”
“So, this is as much a pat on the back for you as it is for us? I bet this makes your school look really great, doesn’t it?”
She shifts in her seat.“That is not the reason I am paying attention to this, Evan.”
“Look, I didn’t do very much as far as layout or heavy edits before publication. I was just the creative inspiration, I guess.”
“Evan, take credit for what you have done. You have opened a window of opportunity for both the student body as well as yourself.”
I knew she was focused on these universities looking at our school.“See, there you go. You only care about the notoriety you get from the colleges.”
“No, you are not hearing me!” she says loudly, loud enough for me to worry that those outside of our closed door might question what is going on in here.
She visibly calms down, thenspeaks again.“When I said that it was an opportunity for the student body, I meant your message, Gavin’s story.”
She leans farther over her desk, focused on getting her point across.“You have given them an opportunity to see what their individual footprint on humanity can do to someone.”
Well, damn. She does get it. I don’t give her any brownie points as I change the subject.“Have you talked to Nikki about this? You know,the college thing.”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“She gave me permission to submit her SAT and ACT scores to admissions,” she replies, sitting back in her chair, seemingly satisfied by how Nikki chose to respond to the matter.
I took the SAT and ACT my junior year. They weren’t that great.“I know my scores won’t get me in, so it really doesn’t matter.”
She shakes her head and opens a file in front of her, obviously mine.“I have seen your scores and while they might not get you into your school of choice, you may have a chance of getting in on probation to at least one of these universities.”
Suddenly, reality kicks in.
I am graduating this year, I don’t have a plan for my life beyond today, and four colleges are considering me.
I feel flush and I start to panic.“I’m not ready.”
“What?” she asks, dumbfounded by my undirected response.
“Uh, I can’t make a decision right now.”
Ya think, Evan!
“I need to talk to my parents.”
Seriously!
The voice in my head makes me feel like I’m two feet tall.
“I have already called your mother and father and given them the news. Look, Evan, you don’t need to decide anything today. Go home and talk to your parents. Talk to Nikki about it. Please, at the very least, give me permission to submit your scores to the schools. I have already printed a transcript of your grades. They are all well above average.”
She puts her coffee down and looks directly at me.“Don’t let this opportunity for the future pass you by because of what has happened in the past.”
I think for a moment, contemplate how considering this would be either a slap in the face of what we have been living through for the last few months or a way to break through, break free.“Okay, you can submit my scores and transcript.”
***
I talk to Mom and Dad that night. Mom says I need to consider my future beyond high school, while Dad is expressively excited that universities were seeking me out. He carries on about how impressive it is to have two of the largest universities in the state of Texas wanting me to be their student. I remind them that my SAT and ACT scores and grades are not the greatest. Dad says,“They didn’t consider you for your grades, Evan. They considered you for talent. Don’t overshadow that. Your article was damn good. Give yourself a little credit, will you?”
Mom comes over to sit next to me on the sofa,“Evan, what you have been through...”
Mom takes pause, looks up at Dad seemingly for strength then back at me.“What we have all been through, it has made life stand still in many ways. For your father and I, life has stood still on more than one occasion over the years, but, honey, if anything we are proof that life needs to carry on. Yes, your past has made you who you are, but your future, your life, won’t invent itself without you being present, an active participant. You have been there for everyone else lately...”
She is talking about my friends. Damn it, she hated that I didn’t have friends now she wants me to neglect them, turn my back on them.
She continues, her eyes narrowed and so intent on me hearing her,“You need to take the time for you, make decisions for you. Please, baby.”
I can do both. I can consider my future and be there for my friends. There is no way I am ditching them.
***
Three weeks later, after submitting scores, grades, and applications to the four universities looking at Nikki and me, Ms. Warren calls me in to tell me that the University of Texas at Austin had accepted me on probationary terms. Nikki is waiting for me when I leave her office.
“What did she say?” Nikki asks as we walk side by side.
“UNT was a no,” I say quietly.
She grimaces and grunts.“Same here.I don’t like Dallas so that was fine with me.”
“Texas State and Rice haven’t responded back yet. She said I should wait...”
She tilts her head.“They were a yes for me. You still have a chance.”
“UT accepted me,” I say cautiously, hoping Nikki’s is a yes.
Her eyes light up.“Me too, but on...”
“Probationary terms,” we both say, finishing each other’s sentence and smiling at the commonality. Nikki nudges me with her elbow as we walk down the bustling hallway.
“Fucking probation.Figures, I spend most of my life on probation ... might as well spend my first semester of college on it. Welcome to my world, sister friend,” she mutters under her breath and grins from ear to ear. I can’t resist grinning either.
Asher got into UT as well, no probationary status. Even though Ash is a goof off most of the time, he is apparently a closet nerd; Nikki’s words. That night my parents congratulate me on my acceptance and start talking about dormitory life. Reminiscing actually. I tell them I want to stay here and commute if it is okay with them.
“Why?” Mom asks somewhat abruptly.“I thought you would want your independence.”
“I do, it’s just I don’t really want to room with someone I don’t know.”
“Well what about Nikki?” Dad asks.
“Honey, she should really try and meet new people. This is college after all,” Mom says and her placement of the comment leads me to believe she doesn’t like the idea of rooming with Nikki after all.
Why the sudden change?
I play it off.“Nikki might not stay in the dorms.”
“Really?Is she staying at home too?” Dad asks.
They are going to freak when I say this.“Um, well, Nikki might be rooming with ... um ... Asher Vega.” I take a bite of food to avoid speaking in my defense.
Dad coughs a little,“Excuse me?”
“What areher parents thinking?” Mom says as she looks at Dad.“Are you hearing this?”
Dad’s eyes are wider than Mom’s now.“Yeah, I do.”
“They aren’t staying in a room together. Asher’s parents have a house down by campus. They have been renting it out and now that Ash is going to UT, it just makes sense.”
“For him, not necessarily for Nikki!” Dad says.
“Look, it isn’t really your place to say if it is or not. You are not her parents,” I say, feeling the tension in the room rise.
“It’s not even for sure yet. She may stay at home, I don’t know,” I
say, wishing the topic never came up. I resort back to my main reason for not rooming with anyone and staying home.
“I just think that I need to be grounded and stable after everything that has happened.”
I intentionally pull the guilt card, because telling them that I am mostly holding out until I know what Brody’s plans are for college and what things will be like around here when Gavin comes home would not go over very well.
Mom smiles, seemingly satisfied that I am not considering rooming at Asher’s place, and says,“We get it, honey.”
Huh, they don’t get it at all.
Chapter 7:
Waiting For You
I am in the work shed developing prints. I spend most of my nights in here since they are no longer occupied by nighttime porch talk or work shed visits from Gavin and Brody.
The unexpected knock catches me off guard, bumping my hand against the rinse tray, sloshing water onto the counter, then me. I shake my hands dry and call out,“Yeah!”
I expect it to be Mom or Dad telling me it is late and time to come in, but it isn’t.
Brody slowly opens the door.“Hey, justme.”
I’m excited to see him, but I pretend to remain unmoved by his presence.
“Hey.”
He closes the door behind him and I look away. He is planning to stay. Why is he here? Did something happen with Gavin? Is his mom okay? I remember she was sick. Is this about him? Is something going on with him? He wouldn’t just be here to chat. He made it perfectly clear that chatting wasn’t something he did with me anymore.
“I saw your light on and thought I would see what you were up to.”
It doesn’t sound like he is sure about his reason for being here.
As I think of the endless possibilities as to why he is here, I continue to rinse my newly developed prints. I can’tavoid the feeling of Brody walking up and standing behind me. I reach to place the dampened prints on the clothesline I have strung and his hand catches mine.“Let me.”
Reviving Evan (A Dismantling Evan Companion Novella) Page 4
