How to Win at High School

by Owen Matthews

  He reaches out to pull her closer to him, to kiss her. Victoria stiffens at his touch. Draws back. “Adam, are you dealing?” she says quickly.

  Adam blinks. Adam hesitates. “Um, why?” Adam says. “Do you want to score or something?”

  “What?” She looks at him. “Oh my god. No, Adam, I don’t want to score.” She shakes her head. “Jesus. Steph told me you were selling drugs and I thought she was crazy, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

  Adam shrugs. “Does it matter?”

  “That’s a yes,” Victoria says. “Oh my god. What’s wrong with you, Adam?”

  “It’s just for a little while,” Adam tells her. “The money’s good. Pretty soon I’ll have enough for tuition.”

  “Tuition?” Victoria says. “College? You’re a freaking drug dealer, Adam. Are you using, too?”

  Adam stares at her. “It’s just a little bit,” he says finally. “Not much. You know, on weekends or whatever.”

  “You need help, Adam,” Victoria tells him. “You need someone to help you. Get out of this craziness and go talk to somebody. This isn’t normal.”

  “I don’t need help,” Adam tells her. “I’m a god, Victoria. I’m totally winning. What would I ever want to change for?”

  “You’re not winning,” Victoria says. “You’re ruining your life, Adam. Let me help you before you crash and burn.”

  Adam looks at her. “You want to help me,” he says. “That’s why you’re here.”

  “I do,” she says. “You have to give up all this bullshit. No more homework. No drugs. Nothing. Okay?”

  She’s still smoking hot. And right now, all Adam can think about is how bad she must want him. How much she must love him, to come crawling back.

  “Okay,” Adam says. “Whatever you say. You can help me.”

  She looks at him. “Do you promise?”

  “I promise,” he says.

  (He’ll say anything at this point.)

  (They can work out the gory details later.)

  Victoria hugs him, tight. Adam hugs her back, feels the curves of her body, her warmth, and it’s all familiar and wonderful and awesome, better than any other girl he’s been with—

  (even Janie Ng and Leanne Grayson)

  —and Adam holds on to Victoria for a minute or two, and then he looks down at her and does what feels natural.

  (It feels perfect.)

  He kisses her.

  305.

  Victoria goes stiff. “Adam.”

  Adam opens his eyes. “What?” He doesn’t let her go.

  “Adam, no.” She squirms out of the hug. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

  “I thought you wanted to help me,” Adam says. “You said you loved me.”

  “I do love you,” she says. “I do want to help you. As your friend, Adam. As someone who cares about you.”

  “You’re still with Chad,” Adam says. “Admit it. You always liked him, even when we were together.”

  “That’s a lie,” she says. “I liked you. I loved you. I was happy with you. But you chose, I dunno . . .”

  She gestures to his clothes, his shoes, the TAG Heuer on his wrist.

  “So you went running to Chad,” Adam says. “The big, dumb high school quarterback.”

  Victoria shrugs. “He is what he is, Adam. And he’s happy that way.”

  Adam says nothing.

  Victoria looks at Adam. “Let me help you,” she says. “Please.”

  She’s more beautiful now than ever, maybe. And she loves him. She’ll stick by him and help him dismantle the whole machine and get him out of this whole sordid mess.

  She’ll be there for him. She’ll do this. She can save him.

  Adam knows this.

  306.

  And then? Adam thinks.

  After she gets Adam out of the homework scheme, and the drugs and the parties and everything else?

  After she’s killed and buried the Pizza Man?

  What then?

  307.

  Nothing.

  No friends. No parties. No popularity.

  Adam won’t even get the girl.

  (Chad will.)

  308.

  Adam shakes his head. “I can’t do it,” he says. “Sorry.”

  Victoria deflates. “You can,” she says. “I know you can. You just have to—”

  “I’m sorry.” Adam walks to the door. Opens it.

  “I think we’re done here,” Adam says.

  (Ice-cold.)

  309.

  So, forget Victoria.

  She’s gone forever, but who cares, really?

  Adam’s still winning.

  He’s still a god.

  (And gods don’t waste time on frigid little freshmen.)

  (Gods take over, don’t they?)

  Adam’s taking over.

  310.

  So Adam throws Sam that party.

  Figures it’s better than a stupid hockey game.

  (Hey, the Red Wings lost anyway.)

  Figures Sam will enjoy getting out of the house, getting a taste of the good life again. Figures it’ll be a nice break from the doughnut shop and that shitty apartment.

  Adam puts a blast out on Facebook. Invites everyone he knows. Books a suite at the casino hotel and tells Paul Nolan and Alton Di Sousa to round up every college girl they can find.

  (Figures maybe Sam will get lucky.)

  (Or as lucky as Sam can get.)

  It’ll be the party of the year.

  Everybody will be there.

  Sam will have a blast.

  He’ll forget about the hockey game.

  (Adam hopes.)

  311.

  (Probably, Adam knows this is all wrong, somewhere deep inside.

  Probably, he knows that a high school party—

  (no matter how amazing)

  —is a shitty substitute for a hockey game with his older brother.

  (Even if the Red Wings lost.)

  Probably, he knows that Sam would have a good time at the party, and maybe Adam even knows that he doesn’t actually care.

  He’s not throwing the party for Sam.

  Somewhere deep inside himself, he knows this.

  Probably.)

  312.

  Anyway, the party is off the chain.

  Everybody’s there.

  All the gods.

  All the goddesses.

  The suite is amazing. It’s, like, two bedrooms. Two bathrooms. Floor-to-ceiling windows with a sweeping view of the river. Of Detroit.

  (Somewhere in the distance, you can see the hockey arena where the Red Wings play.)

  (If you’re looking.)

  Adam arrives early with Brian and Tommy. Brian and Tommy bring booze and weed and pills—

  (everything’s on Adam tonight)

  —and the guests start arriving. The music starts bumping. The party’s already raging when Sam texts from downstairs.

  Adam excuses himself from Alton Di Sousa and a couple college girls. Takes the elevator to the lobby and finds Sam waiting in his wheelchair inside the front doors. He looks small and kind of frail and there’s a food stain on his shirt.

  “Hey,” Adam says. “You made it. Awesome.”

  “Yeah,” Sam says.

  “Tonight’s going to kick ass,” Adam says. “Believe me. You’ll see.”

  (He took a pill earlier. It’s just starting to kick in.)

  Sam follows Adam through the lobby to the elevators. Looks around at the gleaming metal, the polished stone. Everything swank and sleek and modern. Everything money.

  “How much did this cost you?” Sam says.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Adam tells him. “It’s all on me tonight. Anything you want, I promise.”

  Sam looks around some more. He doesn’t say anything.

  “Hey,” Adam says. “Did you have fun at the game? Did you wear that jersey I bought you?”

  Sam looks at Adam like he’s an alien. “I didn’t go,” he says. “I couldn’t f
ind anyone to go with at the last minute. And I can’t just go over to Detroit by myself.”

  Adam frowns. “Well, shit,” he says.

  “Yeah,” Sam says.

  Neither of them says anything for a minute. Adam just stares out the glass elevator at the city lights beyond. The way the drugs are kicking in, the whole night looks magical.

  (Even Sam has to be impressed.)

  Then the elevator dings. The doors slide open. You can already hear the music from Adam’s suite.

  Adam grins at Sam. “Party of the year,” he says. “See if I’m lying.”

  313.

  The party’s going full steam when Adam and Sam get back. Paul Nolan and Alton Di Sousa are dancing with a bunch of girls. Wayne Tristovsky and Sara Bryant are making out in a corner. Brian and Amanda Rimes are dancing.

  (Even Tommy’s found himself a hot high school honey at last.)

  Adam ushers Sam inside the suite. Gets him a drink. Calls over the gods and introduces Sam to every one of them.

  “Oh, shit,” Paul says. “You’re that hockey player.” He looks at Adam. “Dude, you never told us you were related to this guy.”

  Adam looks at Sam. “I mean, shit,” he says. “Of course I am.”

  Paul slaps Sam on the back. “You were the greatest, man. You could have turned pro.”

  Sam gives Paul a smile back. Sam doesn’t drink his drink. “Thanks,” Sam says. “Thanks, man.”

  314.

  Rob Thigpen stays away, Adam notices.

  He doesn’t come anywhere near Sam, and with good reason, Adam figures. The bastard probably feels guilty about what his brother did to Sam.

  (Adam didn’t even invite him to the party, but of course he showed up.)

  (And you can’t very well turn a god away at the door.)

  (Not even if his brother ruined your brother’s life—

  —and by extension, your own.)

  315.

  “How does it feel to be related to the Pizza Man?” someone asks Sam.

  Adam forces a laugh. “Come on,” he says. “This night’s about Sam, not that Pizza Man stuff.”

  It’s too late, though. Sam looks at Adam. “The Pizza Man?” he says. “Who the hell is that?”

  “Pizza Man Enterprises,” someone says, pointing at Adam. “He’s the fucking Tony Montana of Nixon Collegiate. Tony Soprano shit. Boss.”

  Sam looks at Adam.

  Adam shrugs.

  “I’m the Pizza Man,” Adam says. “Surprise.”

  Sam shakes his head. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means . . .” Adam trails off. Can’t think straight anyway. He looks around the party. “This,” he says, gesturing. “It means this.”

  Sam doesn’t look impressed. “Oh,” he says.

  “Anyway,” Adam says. “Can we get this man some girls, please?”

  316.

  Paul Nolan brings a couple of his college friends over.

  They’re smoking hot.

  They look like real women.

  All the other girls look like kids playing dress-up, by comparison.

  Adam forgets their names as soon as he’s introduced. He tells the girls all about Sam and his hockey career. About how Sam was a god back at Riverside High. The girls are into it. They look impressed.

  “What do you do now?” one of them asks.

  “Sam’s making moves,” Adam tells them. “He’s got big things popping, believe me.”

  Sam gives Adam another funny look. “I work at the doughnut shop,” he says. “Across from city hall.”

  The girls laugh like it’s all a big joke.

  Then they realize Sam’s serious.

  The girls wander off.

  317.

  The girls wander over to Rob Thigpen. Rob chats them up. The girls laugh at whatever he says.

  The girls stick around.

  They don’t wander off.

  318.

  Adam and Sam hang out for a bit.

  “You want another drink?” Adam asks Sam.

  Sam looks at his cup. It’s half-full.

  “I’m good,” Sam says. “Thanks.”

  They kind of stand around together in a corner of the suite, staring out at the chaos. Loud music. Drugs. Hookups.

  Best. Party. Ever.

  Then Brian disengages from Amanda and motions to Adam from across the room.

  “One sec,” Adam tells Sam. “I’ll be right back.”

  He wades through the sea of people to where Brian stands by the window. Brian looks worried.

  (Brian always looks worried.)

  “What if Jamal hears about this?” Brian says. “What if he shows up?”

  “He’s not going to show up,” Adam tells him.

  “The whole school knows about this party,” Brian says. “Jamal will find out.”

  Adam shakes his head. Slaps Brian on the back. “You’re fucking up my high,” Adam says. “Would it kill you to have a little fun?”

  319.

  Adam is intercepted on his way back toward Sam.

  It’s one of the college girls.

  (Rebecca?)

  (Rachel?)

  “Are you really the Pizza Man?” Rebecca/Rachel says.

  Adam glances at Sam. Sam’s alone in the corner. He’s not talking to anybody. Nobody’s talking to him.

  Adam looks at Rebecca/Rachel. Then back at Sam.

  (Rebecca/Rachel is smoking hot.)

  (Sam’s all alone.)

  (Shit.)

  Adam grabs a freshman girl walking by. “Go talk to that guy in the corner,” he tells her.

  The girl screws up her face. “Who, the guy in the wheelchair?”

  “That’s my brother,” Adam says. “His name’s Sam.”

  The girl looks the other way. “My friends are all over there.”

  “Just for a little while,” Adam tells her. He pulls out a baggie of pills. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  The girl looks at the baggie. Then at Sam. Sighs.

  “Fine,” she says.

  Rebecca/Rachel is still there when Adam sends the freshman away. “So you are the Pizza Man,” she says. “The guy they’re all talking about.”

  “Only if they’re saying good things,” Adam says. “Is your name Rebecca or Rachel?”

  Rebecca/Rachel laughs. “It’s Aimee,” she says.

  320.

  Adam’s still talking to Aimee when the first noise complaint comes.

  Brian handles it.

  “The hotel manager,” he tells Adam. “He told me if we don’t turn down the music he will call security.”

  Adam looks around. The party is bumping. It’s maybe a little loud. “I paid a thousand dollars for this room,” Adam says. “The manager won’t do shit.”

  Aimee watches Brian walk off. Wraps her arms around Adam’s neck.

  “You have any more of those pills?” Aimee says.

  “I sure do,” Adam tells her. Then he spies Sam across the room. The freshman is nowhere to be found. Sam’s alone again. He’s just chilling in his wheelchair, not having any fun.

  Adam sighs. “Give me one second,” he tells Aimee. “I’ll be right back.”

  Aimee pouts. “Don’t be too long.”

  321.

  Adam pushes through the crowd to Sam.

  (Leaves Aimee behind.)

  (Reluctantly.)

  Sam’s still just kind of hanging out. His glass is still half-full. Someone spilled their drink on him. Sam smells like beer.

  “Hey,” Adam says. “How’re you doing?”

  Sam looks at him. “I’m about ready to go home,” he says. “Can you just get me out of here?”

  Adam glances back at Aimee. Rob Thigpen’s talking to her. She’s not looking at Adam.

  “Adam.”

  Sam has a look on his face like he knows exactly what Adam’s thinking.

  “I just want to go home,” Sam says. “Can you help me, please?”

  Aimee’s laughing at something Ro
b says. She has her hand on his arm. Adam watches her across the room. Feels his frustration growing.

  “This party’s so epic,” he tells Sam. “Why don’t you just, I dunno, mingle or something? Meet people. Have another drink.”

  Sam looks at Adam. Sam shakes his head. “I’ll just go,” he says. “Forget it. Stay here.”

  Sam starts to wheel himself away. He doesn’t get very far before he starts bumping into people. His wheelchair’s a damn hazard. It’s fucking unwieldy. Adam watches his brother struggle. Watches Rob Thigpen flirt with the college girl.

  Adam feels his high suddenly vanish.

  (The world just seems so unfair.)

  “This is your party,” he tells Sam, “and you’re not even grateful.”

  Sam stops trying to wheel his way through the crowd. He looks back at Adam. Makes a face. “Are you kidding me, bro?”

  “This is about the hockey game, isn’t it?” Adam says. “You’re still pissed that I had to bail on you.”

  Sam shakes his head. “This isn’t about the hockey game, Adam,” he says. “This is about what the hell is wrong with you.”

  “I thought you’d be proud of me,” Adam tells him. “You should be proud of me right now. I did this for you.”

  “Proud of you,” Sam says. “For what? Paying a thousand dollars so your friends could get trashed in some fancy hotel room?”

  (Well, yeah, Adam thinks.)

  “This isn’t normal,” Sam says. “I don’t know what happened to you, but it’s really not cool.”

  “What happened to me?” Adam says. He steps closer to Sam. Leans down. He’s yelling over the music.

  (People are starting to stare.)

  “I’m the most popular guy at Nixon,” Adam tells Sam. “That’s what happened to me. You told me to go out and take what life had to offer. Guess what, Sam? I did it.”

  Sam just looks at him. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re popular or not,” he says. “In fact, if this is how it’s going to be when you have friends, I wish you were still a loser. This isn’t for me. This is for your needy fucking ego.”