Chapter 20

  Alarm noises.

  Ring ring ring ring.

  Shit. I forgot to turn off my workout reminders, was my thought as I glared at my blinding screen in the middle of dawn. Three in the morning, for Christ’s sake.

  I plead with my body to get up, to at least follow the ritual, but I just can't find the drive. And you think going back to sleep would be easy, but your body starts new habits at an old age. So I just sit there, between states, just long enough for the sun to fully rise. I can feel it warm me, and I hate myself. I feel like I wasted those times—but those times are only special because I was training with Thomas.

  Selena is still asleep. Morning is basically afternoon for her, so I’m not really worried about waking her. School prep is quicker than usual, mainly because I'm not sweating bullets before the sun rises anymore. But walking the house aimlessly feels disrespectful, so I still follow those few traditions I know. I take out a new bottle of whiskey in the rotation by my father's chair and I also place a cigar by the door and leave. I know no one will drink or use these, but it's just respectful.

  The sun is glaring and almost hurts my eyes. I've never been this early to school, but usually I’m late just because Thomas wanted to stay longer—he was bored of the office.

  Now that I think about it, this is my first time having to take the bus to school, and they're waiting by our pavement awkwardly, humiliated by the absence of my routine.

  I waited for about an hour before the bus even got there, and the whole experience, to say the least, was unpleasant. But I feel like those thoughts are better kept sealed. I’d rather not relive the smell of public odor.

  “Elijah, hey, over here!” Nathan waves from the courtyard. Early day classes haven't started yet, but he's still so energetic—I wonder how he does it.

  “So I saw you took the bus today, big man. Elijah in the bus, I guess there's a first time for everything,” Nathan says jokingly. But the face he had? You wouldn't assume I just told a joke. He couldn't even look me in the eyes, and that's weird.

  “Yeah, I took the bus ‘cause, you know, stuff happened.” A deep exhale escapes, and my chest feels hot at the thought of telling Nathan what happened. The funeral—it just feels heavy.

  “I'll tell you later about it, okay? Could we go somewhere? I know it's like almost first period, but I feel like I can't get through the day without just saying it first. I might chicken out later.” Nathan looks at me with a serious look, meeting my gaze for the first time today—and that's when I realize he already knows. That breaks me more than words can say. I feel bare.

  “Listen, Elijah. It was covered by the news for days, and I know I didn’t call—I just didn’t know what to say, okay? I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Nathan lunges, embracing me, and the hug just balls into tears, him whimpering loudly. Everybody's eyes on us, and that's when I realize I hadn’t noticed because I was so disoriented from the lack of routine. But there had been more eyes on me than normal, and I finally see those eyes filled with pity.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” I repeat these words, consoling him surprisingly, as if to convince him with confidence.

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t call. I just didn’t know what you needed. I know how much your dad meant to you, but I want you to know I’m here now, and I’m sorry it took so long.”

  It's just like Nathan’s words—the most comforting I’ve heard in a long time. So sweet and so pure that there could be no other meaning besides the one he said. No seven angles, just concern.

  Just like that, the bell for first period rings. And wouldn’t you know it—it’s gym.

  It’s outside, in the open, where everyone can see me.

  “1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2!” the gym teacher yells at the girls, telling them to run laps as if preparing for Vietnam. “Come on now, you can't be dying already. In my day we could have done this 100 more times!” Highly unlikely—looking at his physique, I don’t think he could have done it one more time. But I guess it's pointless now, isn’t it?

  Nathan and I are at our favorite spot, just far enough to watch the practice but out of sight, where nobody will call us to perform a military routine.

  We sit in awkward silence—not like usual sessions, where we’d be laughing at the gym teacher and how he got his job training kids, of all things.

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  I feel as if I’m the one who has to break the silence.

  “Umm, so…” but just as I’m about to speak, Nathan interrupts me.

  “How did it happen?” Nathan stutters. “Your dad, I mean.”

  “Um… um…” That’s not an easy start. Nathan, you aren’t really helping me here. How do I answer this?

  Am I even allowed to tell the truth, like it was a clear-cut accident? Could I tell him the truth, even though I don’t even know the truth?

  How do I even begin to tell him he was murdered so gruesomely? Brook told me the funeral was a closed casket. No discussion.

  I exhale and stay blank, staring into the field, moving over what to say, how to say it. And just like that, Nathan gives me a shrug of the shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry, that was probably insensitive. It’s okay if you don’t have the words, but you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “No, no, no. It’s just hard. It was a car accident.” My stomach twists, and my throat feels dry. Never thought lying felt this hard.

  “I’m so sorry. Sorry, ha. What I mean to say: are you okay? I know this is probably hard. I just want to know how you’re okay.”

  “It’s fine, man. Like, it’s just hard, okay? Like, it just happened so sudden, and everything just keeps falling apart, day after day after day. I almost didn’t come here. I didn’t really think coming to school was important right now.”

  Nathan holds my shaking hand, and the warmth transferred feels safe.

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself to come to school, you know, unless you want to. Of course, I’m happy that you’re here. But if it’s hard to be here, don’t come. If you are here to see me, I’ll come see you—that’s how this thing works. I’ll bunk with you.” Nathan’s words are so soothing, it’s as if he just knows what to say, and I didn’t know I needed this.

  “Yeah, right. He just wants an excuse to skip classes.”

  Nathan lets out another awkward laugh.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, fuck, I shouldn’t laugh today.” Him trying to explain himself is even more funny. “Ha ha ha.” I think this is the first laugh I’ve had since everything just went to shit.

  “No, it’s okay, you can’t help it. I’m the one that made the joke.”

  “Right, you did. But Elijah, is there anything I can help you with? I feel powerless to do anything for you, and I wanna help.”

  “No, that’s okay. You’re just being used, okay? And coming to school, I feel, was the right decision today. I don’t think I have the strength to come back tomorrow, but I feel like the strength to just live to see tomorrow was thanks to coming here, seeing you.”

  We didn’t just know each other in assurance and then sit in silence, but it felt less suffocating than before.

  Nathan and I have been sitting on this patch of grass for hours now, gym class long over, but Nathan never once bothered me to ask or leave. He just sat there with me, as if he was ready to stay until I was ready to start.

  This time, I’m sure I have to talk to him first. I think he’s waiting for me now.

  “Nathan, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, cause ask me anything,” he awkwardly stutters.

  Exhale.

  “So listen, I don’t feel comfortable talking about my dad right now, but there’s just things I need your help with, one.”

  “Ok, I’m listening,” he adds, with the deep stare that screams reassurance.

  “So, about my dad’s company…” Just like that, I crack. I explain everything I could possibly explain without exposing the evil of my family to Nathan, and how Selena, Vigo, and Brook all have these expectations on me, while I don’t even know what to do next. All of it just explodes onto this kid, and he just sits there, listening to every word—slowly, patiently, respectfully.

  At the end, I was a ball of tears, shaking, and surprisingly he was calm. Not like this morning. He looked me straight in my eyes—cold and strong.

  “Fuck, man. That’s a lot. Like, that’s a lot, a lot. No wonder you look like shit.”

  “I know,” I snap back. “But that’s the reality, Nathan. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I can’t even trust that my dad died an accident, and I hate looking at everybody like a suspect. But I’m not going to forgive and forget if there’s even the slightest possibility that my dad was wronged.”

  Nathan quickly grabs both my shoulders, looking me dead in the eyes.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Elijah. I would be mad at you if you lied down and didn’t follow your gut, ok?” Nathan exhales. “Listen, I don’t know what’s the right option here, ‘cause this is a lot for a kid. But all I know is, you don’t feel comfortable sitting down, and I don’t think answers come to sitting men. So what do you think is available to you? What could you do to help get the justice you feel you’re not receiving? If you can’t trust the police, what can you do, Elijah? ‘Cause it’s all about what you’re willing to do, not to feel regret. I know how much you get from your dad. If you laid down and did nothing, it would kill you. And I’d kill myself before I let you kill yourself inside.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Slap.

  My face feels hot, red.

  Nathan struck me.

  “Yes, you do. Elijah. Think. Elijah. Think.”

  “Are you using every available resource to accomplish your goal?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m scared, okay? I’m scared the person that is required to fix this isn’t the person I want to be. Isn’t the person my father wanted me to be. My father never told me all these things for a reason—I want to respect that.”

  “That’s a lie, and you know it. You’re just scared of being something outside your comforts.” Nathan pauses. “You always do this—you’re scared of failing to meet expectations, Elijah. More than anything you are scared of not meeting your own expectations, maybe you should be scared. Maybe Thomas raised a bad son. So are you okay with that? Disrespecting your father's name like that to the world.”

  “No.”

  “Good. So what do you want to do?”

  “I want to find what happened to my dad. I want to know who was involved, why they did it, and I want them to bleed.”

  “If that’s what you want, Elijah, I’ll support you. And I’m sure there’s plenty of other people that will too. So please, stop being a crybaby and make your father proud.”

  Nathan exhales.

  “Now please don’t hold that slap against me, okay? It just kind of happened like I didn't think I had that in me.”

  And that awkward exchange was enough. This man truly is my best friend. And then, in those awkward moments, we just couldn’t help but laugh. I couldn’t help but understand

  what Selena meant when she said school wasn’t the right place right now.