Now that Trey is gone, will Vic go off the deep end?
I feel like I'm about to lose it myself. I wish Vic were here so I could talk with him, to tell him that we're both going through hell now that Trey's not here. I'm nervous to call him. What would I say?
When I turn around to face the casket, the constant dull ache in my back starts throbbing.
"It is with great sadness that we say good-bye to Trey Aaron Matthews, a young man who was the ultimate role model to his peers," the minister says as he stares down at the casket.
I dig my fingernails into my palms as I listen to the minister talk. My grief mixes with a heavy dose of anger and guilt.
"Trey's presence will always be felt by the ones who loved him," the minister continues.
But I don't feel his presence.
All I feel is empty and alone.
Chapter Twenty-seven
VICTOR
"Yo, wake up!"
I'm lying on Isa's couch, hoping to get some sleep. That's obviously not going to happen though as I open my eyes at half-mast and see her crouching down next to me. Her face is inches from mine.
"I'm tryin' to sleep," I tell her.
"You've been sleepin' for a week, Vic. Time to join the land of the living."
"No thanks." When I'm sleeping, my mind goes blank and my dark thoughts disappear for the moment. I don't want to join the land of the living, not while Trey lies six feet under.
She pinches my arm. "Get up," she orders.
I knock her hand away. "Ow! That hurt."
"Good," she says. "It was supposed to hurt."
I brush my arm off and sit up. Looking out the window, I realize it's not even light outside. "What time is it?"
"Ten. In the evening." She tosses a gray hoodie at me. "Here, put this on. I gotta run an errand, and you're comin' with me."
"I'll stay here."
"No. People die, Vic," she says as if it's something I didn't know. "Hell, I've seen too many friends die right in front of my eyes. You never get over it, but you have to move on."
"I don't want to move on. I like it right here, on your couch."
"You gonna lie on that couch forever?"
"Yeah."
"Just remember that we live on borrowed time, cuz," Isa says. "We're all gonna die at some point. Might as well live like a motherfuckin' beast and say 'fuck you' to death. Well, that's what Paco used to say, anyways."
"I'm not afraid to die," I tell her.
But the truth is, I'm fucking terrified because I killed my best friend. I'm surprised the cops aren't looking for me, wanting to lock me up forever. I deserve it. I mean, I wanted his life, his girl, his skills, and intelligence--everyone wanted to be associated with Trey Matthews.
Most students at Fremont High have been warned away from me by their parents. Nobody wants to be associated with me.
"I'll figure it out."
"Really, Vic? Because you've been sittin' on your ass for the past week, completely useless to me. Hell, Monika's been askin' about you every time she comes to work."
"She's been here?" I mean, I know she was supposed to start work, but I thought after what happened she would have ditched that plan.
Isa nods. "I keep tellin' her you want to be left alone. Last night she begged me to come up here so she could talk to you, but I told her you weren't up for it."
"I don't want to see anyone. Especially Monika." I don't tell Isa what I want to say--that it's my fault Monika's boyfriend is dead.
Isa stops and turns to me. "Two of the men I fell in love with died, Vic. You still have to live. Hell, it hurts like a bitch, but I'm doin' it every day." She touches my arm. "I get it."
"Nobody gets it," I tell her. "Not even you."
Chapter Twenty-eight
MONIKA
Mr. Miller's class has been tough to sit through, mainly because I can't stop focusing on the empty chair in front of the classroom--Vic's chair.
"Does anyone know where Victor Salazar is?" he asks.
"He's gone," Cassidy chimes in. "Nobody has heard from him." She shifts her focus to me. "Right, Monika?"
I shrug. Why is everyone looking at me? Okay, so I know where he's been hiding out. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone. I wish he'd talk to me though. I miss him.
Vic hasn't shown up at school for two weeks now. It's bad enough that Trey isn't here. Having Vic gone makes the pain worse. I don't know what to do.
I corner his sister Dani in the hallway before fifth period. She's talking to a bunch of girls.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask her.
She shrugs. "I guess."
The girl isn't easy to talk to. Dani looks as if running away from me is her number one goal. She motions for her friends to wait. "I was, um, wondering if you heard from Vic."
"My dad cut him off when he ran away," she says.
"Have you heard from him?"
She shakes her head. "Listen, Monika, I haven't heard from him and don't expect to. I gotta go."
Before I can ask her more questions, she walks past me to join her friends.
A few underclassmen pass me. "Did you hear that Vic was talking smack to Trey before that brutal tackle?" someone says in an excited, gossipy tone.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he did it on purpose. Trey was everything that Vic wasn't," someone else adds.
"You know what they say: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer," another chimes in, this time from one of the junior guys on the varsity football team.
"Are you okay?" Ms. Goldsmith, one of the biology teachers, asks me as I stare after the gossipers. "Do you need to go to the social worker?"
"No," I tell her, remembering the announcement about the social workers being on call and available every period for students who need to talk about their struggles with the death of a classmate.
The impact of Trey's death is huge in our small town, especially one as football-oriented as Fremont. Everyone is still buzzing about it. Of course, every time I walk near people and they realize I'm there, all of a sudden the talk stops. They treat me like I'm a leper, someone so fragile I'll break if I hear Trey's name.
"You look distraught, Monika. I think you should talk to someone. Come with me," Ms. Goldsmith says, urging me to follow her toward the school office.
"I'm fine," I tell her, wishing I could run in the opposite direction.
She pats me on the back. "I know you're going through a lot right now. You need to reach out for help, even if you don't want to."
Soon we're in the main office. Ms. Goldsmith whispers to the secretary, "This is Monika Fox, Trey's girlfriend."
The secretary nods as if she understands the urgency and rushes to the social worker's office. While I'm standing there waiting, Marissa Salazar walks into the room.
"Have you talked to Vic?" I ask her.
"No." She quickly turns around and walks out. So now I'm standing here more confused than ever.
Less than a minute later I'm ushered into Mrs. Bean's office.
Our social worker is a tall, redheaded woman with shoulder-length hair. She motions for me to sit on the chair opposite her desk. "I'm sorry about Trey," she says in a soft, high-pitched tone. "He was an exemplary student who was looked up to by his peers and the community. His passing has affected a lot of people."
I'm not sure Mrs. Bean actually talked to Trey, but we don't live in a big town and everyone kinda knows everyone at Fremont High.
She tilts her head to the side in a sympathetic gesture. "You dated him for a long time."
I nod. I'm not telling her the truth, that we'd broken up and he'd been cheating on me while doing drugs.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks. "I'm here to listen, to give advice, or just to be a shoulder to cry on."
The last thing I want to do right now is talk, especially to the school social worker. If I wanted to talk, I'd call Ashtyn. But I can't tell her the truth, either. And I haven't told anyone about the pictures of Trey and Z
ara I found hidden behind Trey's corkboard.
"Can I just go to class, Mrs. Bean?"
She sighs. I think she's going to insist I say something, anything, but instead she pushes her chair out and stands. "The barrage of feelings you're going through is a normal and natural part of the grieving process, Monika. You just lost your boyfriend. Every day will get a little easier. Trust me."
"I hope so. Thanks for caring, Mrs. Bean," I say.
I'm about to leave when she holds out a leaflet. "Here," she says, putting it into my hand. "It outlines the stages of grief. Just read it over, Monika. Just so you know that you're not alone."
I step out of her office and walk through the halls feeling like a zombie, just moving my legs without a purpose or goal. I'm just numb right now. I glance down at the leaflet. Numb is not one of the stages of grief. Maybe I am alone in this.
Maybe I'll always be alone.
I wish I could talk to Trey, to tell him that keeping his secrets are pulling me under. Everyone is talking about what a role model he was, how much he was looked up to, and how perfect he was.
But he wasn't perfect.
It seems like the more flawless Trey is perceived to be, the more people are trashing Vic. Angel versus devil.
I hang my head and stare at the floor, because it's easier than looking people in the eye.
At the end of the day, I open my locker and see a folded-up piece of paper that must have fallen on the bottom shelf. I open it up and read it.
Tell my brother I miss him
~ Marissa
Chapter Twenty-nine
VICTOR
I don't know how many days I've been living at Isa's. I'm doing my best to sleep through life and ignore everything and everyone around me.
It's nighttime again. I know it because light isn't shining through the windows.
"You gonna finally get your ass up?" Isa asks as she studies herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall in the living room.
"Nah."
She turns around. "Yo, Vic, snap out of it. I mean, seriously, get over it. You think Trey would want you to give up on life? It's disrespectful to his memory, actually. He'd want you to live your life like a fuckin' baller and get back to work."
"Workin' here is livin' life?" I ask her.
"For sure. Workin' here gives me purpose."
"Fuck that," I groan.
She shrugs. "This might not be the best gig you'll ever have, but it beats lyin' in a dark room twenty-four seven wearin' the same dirty clothes for a week."
I look down at my dirty shirt and jeans. "I like these clothes."
"Whatever, Vic. Just think about helpin' me and Monika out. One thing I've learned throughout the years is that regrets suck."
"Thanks for the advice."
"You're welcome. I'm going to babysit Alex and Brittany's kids tonight, so I'll be home late. Not that you'll notice."
Isa leaves the apartment, mumbling more of her bullshit about moving on.
I turn my back to her and close my eyes, hoping I can sleep.
I can't. Dammit, this sucks. I hate being alone with my thoughts, so I sleep. The problem is I've been sleeping so much my body is retaliating.
I need to run, to get so exhausted that I collapse on the couch.
I walk downstairs and through the body shop, glad Isa isn't around. I don't know where I'm headed. I just need to clear my head and run through town.
I run to the high school and back, watchful of my surroundings in this shitty town.
When I get back to Enrique's all sweaty and ready to pass out, I notice a girl standing in the parking lot. She's wearing a black hoodie that covers half her face.
It hits me when I see long, thick hair sticking out of the hoodie, and those full lips that I could recognize in the daytime just as much as in partial darkness.
Monika Fox.
I've tried to block out the image of her holding her hands over her mouth crying in distress as the ambulance took Trey away. But I can't.
Shit.
I don't want to see anyone. Especially her.
It's too bad I don't have a choice.
Monika flinches at the sight of me and her hood falls down, revealing her perfectly heart-shaped face.
She puts her hand over her chest and sucks in a relieved breath. "Oh, it's just you."
Just seeing her up close... I don't know what to say. My palms are suddenly sweaty as I stop in front of her.
"What are you doin' here?" I ask. My voice comes out harsher than I intended, and it makes her flinch.
She wrings her fingers together. "I, um... came here, to, um, talk to you." Her eyes, usually sparkling and alive, are bloodshot. "You weren't at the funeral, so in case you didn't hear the news, Trey was buried--"
"I know." Seeing her here cuts right through me. Trey wanted a future with her, and I single-handedly fucked it up.
"Everyone has been wondering where you've been," she says. "You need to come back to Fremont, Vic. Come back with me."
"So you're the designated bounty hunter, sent to take me back to Fremont?" I ask. "Have you told everyone where I've been for the past two weeks?"
"No." She steps back, seemingly insulted. "Nobody knows you're here."
"Why did you come here now, then?"
"Because I care about you." She clears her throat and pauses before adding, "A lot."
Chapter Thirty
MONIKA
Vic looks horrible. His shirt is stained and his hair is messy. He looks like he's slept on the streets for the past two weeks. It's like he's given up.
"I don't want you to care," he says. "Not after what I did to Trey. I'm surprised the cops haven't been lookin' for me to arrest me for murder."
"You didn't murder Trey, Vic. It was..." I want to tell him the truth, that Trey had a part in his own death, but I can't. "It was a freak accident. And I'm not going home, not until you promise to come back to school and go back to the football team. They can't win a game without you."
He puts his hands over his ears. "I don't want to talk about school or Trey or football."
"Why not?"
He shrugs.
I put my hands on my hips, trying to look assertive. "You can't hide out here your entire life and ignore everyone who cares about you."
"Why not?"
"Because it's stupid." I focus on my shoe, because I can't look up when I add, "Trey would never let you do that."
"Yeah, well Trey's gone, Monika. And you should know by now that I am stupid." He walks to the auto body and unlocks the door, silently declaring our conversation over.
I know Vic's dad is hard on him. He's never been made to feel important or worthy of attention, unless it's negative or unless it's in public and staged. I know that's part of why he's so closed off, but I won't let that plus the stress of losing Trey bring him down.
I rush up to him. "There are always other options. You can't just give up on school and football."
"Yes I can," he says. "I don't want you to care about me."
"Well, you'll just have to deal with it because I do care about you, Vic." I reach out and gently touch his hand, but as soon as my fingers glide over his I hear him suck in a breath. He snatches his hand away.
"Go back to Fremont, Monika," he says.
"I'm here to help you. Don't block me out." Tears start forming in my eyes. Nobody knows how much I'm hurting inside. Vic doesn't know the truth about what really happened on the field. If Mr. and Mrs. Matthews decide to keep that information private, he might never know.
He holds out his hands in frustration. "Go home. I don't want you here."
I need to stand my ground. "I'll only go home if you agree to come back to school."
"Fine," he says.
A part of me relaxes. "Really?"
"Yeah," he says. "If you leave right now, I'll go back to school on Monday. I'd suggest you take me up on the offer, because if you don't I'll haul your ass over my shoulder and make you leave. You won't have
a choice. And just so you know, if you scream in this hood, nobody gives a shit."
I narrow my eyes, wondering if he'd go through with it. "You wouldn't do that."
He gives a short, cynical laugh. "Try me."
Chapter Thirty-one
VICTOR
On Monday I'm sitting in Isa's living room pretending I'm not thinking about Monika and my lie to her that I'd be at school today. When I woke up this morning, I did actually think about hopping in the shower and going to school. But that was a fleeting thought. I'm not going to graduate anyways since I've missed so much school and probably can't catch up, so what's the point?
Just as I'm about to watch TV to zone out every thought running through my useless brain, Isa barges in wearing her oversized overalls to match her oversized Latina attitude. Damn, I wish I'd locked her out. Then I could pretend I wasn't here.
I lean back. "Hey."
"I'm havin' an intervention." She stands between me and the TV. "I'm done with you sittin' on your ass doing nothing."
"I've had a rough couple of weeks," I say casually. "I just want to be left alone."
"I'm sorry you lost your friend. I know all too well what it's like to lose people you care about. But I'm drownin' in work downstairs, and you're MIA." She gestures to my attire. "And you're a fucking mess."
"Sorry."
"Sorry? That's it?" Her dark eyes are like daggers right now. "If I don't get this backlog of work done, I'm gonna lose my shirt and I'll have to sell the place."
"I can't work right now."
She points to the television. "Because you're sittin' on your ass watchin' some dumb cartoon?"
I'm trying to stay calm. "Don't give me shit. I don't need it, Isa."
"So what? You're gonna be a bum the rest of your life?"
"Not a bum. I prefer to call it a 'free spirit.'" I want her to go away and stop challenging me so I can go back to being a slug. She's making me think. I don't want to think, especially today when Monika expects me to be at school and I know I'm letting her down by ditching again.
"You're acting like an idiot," Isa spits out.
"I am one. You were a gangbanger, Isa. You have a lot of experience with idiots," I say.
Her face gets all red. "Don't you dare go there, Vic."
"I'm just sayin'... maybe you can give me some pointers."
She takes the remote control and whips it at my chest. Her gang tattoos might be permanent, but she left the thug life behind when her friends were shot dead from the same gang she pledged her loyalty to.
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