A Life Worth Living - 4. Chapter 4

MONTY has a frown. His fists are clenched.

“Who was that?” I ask. We’re in the hall, it’s busy and I can smell food wafting through the air. It smells delicious, which is not at all what I was expecting from school lunch.

Monty shakes his head. “I was hoping you’d run into him later. Well, not at all preferably but I know that would be impossible. That fucker.”

“Okay.” I look behind me to make sure he’s not following us. Victor. “But who was he?”

“We will brief you at lunch.”

I snort. “Jesus, is it that bad?” I cling to my backpack and follow him through the crowd. We reach the cafeteria and good God, private schools really do have it all.

My old school, lunch was an hour long. Thank God for that because, in reality, you had twenty minutes. They’d open up the area where we would line up and be served with stuff they’d claim was edible. The line was so long that there was no time to eat by the time you went through it and found a table that wasn’t occupied or at least scarcely occupied. I’d be stuffing myself just in time for the bell to ring. And then I’d have to pee and the teacher would be mad because I didn’t do it during lunch.

This on the other hand? There are different stations. Different kinds of food. And it looked real!

“I’d suggest the pasta station,” Monty says, nodding towards it. “It’s the best.”

He leads me through it and I’m given a generous portion of some good-looking shit. I wish James was here. He would have loved this. His mom is Italian. She made hers from scratch. I remember summer days on his back patio. We’d sneak whiskey from his dad’s liquor shelf and splash it into our cokes. Just enough for us to feel it but not enough for his dad to notice. It was a hard balance to learn. But his mom would make pasta and the sauce from scratch and we’d eat until we were about to explode, sauce dripping down our chins and warmth flowing through us. And then we’d lay on his trampoline until midnight.

“Who makes all this?” I ask, waiting in the cashier line.

“They hired these chefs who do this all day. It’s awesome.”

“How do we pay for this?”

Monty digs his wallet out of his back pocket and pulls out a card. “Student ID. We swipe it and it goes to our accounts. Did they give you yours?”

“Not yet. My counselor said I’d have mine tomorrow.”

“We’ll just swipe mine twice,” Monty suggests.

“Is that allowed?”

He winks at me. “Guess we’ll see.” He slides his food along the line and swipes his card. He then swipes again.

“Whoa there, Montgomery,” the cashier says. A middle-aged guy. “You can only do that once.”

“Steven, sweet, sweet Steven,” Monty says. “Look, my cousin is new here and his ID card won’t come until tomorrow. Can we let this slide just today?” He makes a pouty face. “Pretty please?”

The cashier glances at me, and looks me up and down. I shiver. “You’re his cousin?”

I nod quickly. “Yessirrrr.” I’m on a roll today.

“Fine. Only today.” He waves us through.

“Thank you, Steven.” Monty salutes him. “Hope that leg of yours is better soon.” He then pats him on the back as we pass him.

“How well do you know that guy?” I ask as we walk.

“I tend to make conversation with people.” He shrugs. “Anyway, here we are.”

We slide ourselves into a long lunch table. Blair and Calvin are already here with their food. Blair has a sandwich. Calvin also has pasta. He’s twirling it on his fork and whispering something into Blair’s ear. She rolls her eyes.

“What are you fools talkin’ about?” Monty asks.

“Calvin is trying to devise a plan that makes his boyfriend look at him in public,” Blair says, picking up her sandwich. “Ugh! I said light mayo.” She wipes her hand on a napkin.

“It’s so embarrassing,” Calvin says, still twirling his fork. “I should break up with him. Better yet, I should kill him.” His eyes then widen and his face immediately goes red as he shoots his gaze over to me. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “I do have a question though.”

Blair flips some hair over her shoulder. “Whatever you’ve heard about the lacrosse team orgy that happened last year, that is completely a rumor that someone started for April Fools and it got out of hand.”

I drop my fork. There is some crazy lore at this school already! “Uh, well, not what I was gonna ask, but I guess I have two questions now. But first, do people hate us here?”

“Yeah, guys, we gotta problem,” Monty chimes in. “Jonah’s already had a run-in with Victor.”

“Already?” Calvin leans back some and bites his lip. “It hasn’t even been a day? Now, he does hate us. But I don’t know about others, why?”

“It’s just that every single time I’ve had to introduce myself to a teacher, they have all said—and yes, all— ‘another one?’” I say.

“It’s probably because we’ve all been in the same classes for years. And all three of us together can be a lot.” Blair laughs. “What can I say? We’re fun.”

“Oh, there’s the rest of our friends,” Calvin says, perking up. “Guys, come on! Meet our cousin!”

A few more people sit at the table. A Latin-looking guy with short, neat hair and gold-rimmed glasses. Another guy who's wearing a sling. The girl who I remember is named Ida and smells like pine needles, sits next to Blair who is probably one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. She gives me a warm smile.

“Ida, you remember Jonah from this morning?” Blair asks.

“Yeah! I know it was a quick meeting, but welcome. Glad you’re here,” she replies.

“Yeah, Dude, we heard you were coming and we got all excited. Love adding a bro to the mix,” the guy with the sling. “I’m Easton.”

“I’m Sebastion,” the Latin guy says. “And whatever Monty here has said about us is a flat lie. He likes to play.” He shoves Monty some and rubs his knuckle into his hair making it stick up.

“Cut it out,” Monty says, flattening his hair. “Everyone lock-in. We gotta a problem. Victor has already sunk his teeth into Jonah.”

The whole table falls silent.

“How’d this happen already?” Easton says. “It takes him at least a little while? Remember last year? It took him a week before tracking down the new guy.”

“I have art with this guy William and he walked in and saw me,” I say.

“Okay,” Ida says, “Jonah, look over there.” I follow where she’s pointing at. “See that table? Stay away from them. First, Victor Vasilios. He’s lived here his whole life. We’ve all grown up with him and he sucks. Vile, human trash. He thinks that because his parents head the school board, donate all sorts of money, and his dad owns a shit ton of real estate he is like, king of the place.”

I nod. “Got it.”

“Then there’s William Caputo,” Ida continues. “Been friends with Victor for forever. Not sure why though, because Will is actually kind of a nice guy.”

“Yeahhhh,” Calvin cuts. “I have such a distant crush on him.” He puts his head on his hands. “He’s a cutie.”

“What’s a distant crush?” Sebastian asks.

“It’s when you only have a crush from a distance and you do absolutely nothing about it. It’s sad, I know.”

“That it is,” Sebastian affirms.

“He drew me in art class,” I say. I watch him. He isn’t talking. Or smiling. He’s just sitting, eating, and watching Victor as he talks with his loud movements. Victor laughs loudly and reaches across the table, shaking another guy with his shoulder. William does nothing. It’s like he doesn’t want to be there. How’d he end up in that mess?

“You also gotta watch out for that guy with the hat on and that guy with the baby-blue shirt. That’s Peter Livingston and Wesley Davids They follow Victor around like lost puppies. And finally, that poor girl who is latched on to Victor like a parasite? That’s June Landry. She’s his girlfriend. June is the opposite of a girls-girl.” Ida squints her eyes. “She’s a backstabbing, lying whore.”

“Are you a girls-girl Ida?” Monty asks.

She loops an arm through Blair’s and squeezes her in. “Yes, absolutely. But not for her.”

“Okay,” I say. “This is a lot to unpack. But long story short, stay away from those guys. But why?”

Monty sighs. “They just think that they're better than everyone else and will do nasty things to prove that. Last year, we got a transfer student. This guy from New Jersey and Victor went after him and somehow got him expelled.”

“Good God,” I say, turning back to look at their table. Victor is pounding his chest like an animal. And for just a moment, I capture a glimpse of William looking at me. I whip back around.

There’s a surge that swells in my chest. My mood seems to be changing quickly these days. And while I don’t have a name for it because I haven’t started therapy yet, this surge feels good. Reminds me of when I would finish a really good painting and step back to see it. I’ve lost so much recently and there’s no way I’m going to let those people ruin this for me.

“Well, look, I’m the one with dead parents and probably a dead ex-boyfriend who I’ll never see or talk to again. They don’t want to mess with me. And if they do?—” I crack my knuckles— “Let them.” I take my fork and stab my food. I’ve felt small too much too often. Not today.

“I like this guy,” Ida says. “Because you know what? Hell yeah. Fuck them. I’m tired of their bullshit.”

“Except Will!” Calvin says. “He’s innocent.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ida shoots back.

“This is great and all,” Monty says, “but no one has ever tried to get back at him.”

There’s a couple of sudden, loud chimes that ring through the air and the whole room goes silent. A guy's voice then cuts through the air.

“Good afternoon students! This is your Head of School, Doctor Hill reminding you that the deadline to submit yourself to run for class president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer is this Friday. We’ve had several submissions across the board for next year’s sophomore and junior classes but only one for the rising senior class. C’mon juniors! I know there are more out there that want to do this next year. Anyway, remember, this Friday!” The intercom shuts off.

My mom always used to scold me and say I never did enough in school. She was all about school with her being a teacher and all. She started me a year early making me the youngest always. But she’d say things like, “why won’t you join a club?” or “Do a sport, Jonah!” but I never got around to it or cared to try.

I look back, glancing at William one more time. Victor has his arm around him, talking to him with a stern look on his face. William is frowning, hard. He rolls his eyes and tries to push Victor off, but he seems to grip him harder.

When I turn back to our table, I set my fork down and clear my throat. “I have an idea,” I say.

✦✦✦

AT the end of the day, I wait outside in the front for Uncle Nolan. He sent me a text earlier saying he’d be here at three-thirty. Monty, Blair, and Calvin all had after-school things to do which only fueled my earlier idea more. The pure thought of putting that guy victor in his place had me vibrating in my shoes after hearing what kind of person he is. And seeing how he treated William.

“Hey, Jonah.”

I feel like I have a superpower. I think of someone and they appear next to me.

“Oh, hey Will…iam?” He’s wearing a tracksuit and has a gear bag slung over his shoulder and he’s not wearing his glasses anymore.

“Will is just fine,” he replies. “Whatcha doin’?” He takes a second to look around, peering over his shoulders. “I’m headin’ to track practice.”

“Artistic and athletic, okay,” I say. “Anything else I should be aware of?” I’m being serious. Even with me smiling at him and watching the sun glimmer in his eyes, I want to see if he’ll say something about the Douche Squad he hangs out with. Because the more I look at him, he doesn’t fit in with them.

“Monty’s on the track team,” he says. “He’s crazy good. Me? Not so much.”

“Yeah, he does the hurdles. I think I would split in two trying to do that,” I reply.

Will laughs and I mean, really laughs. It’s deep and low and he lets his head fall back. “Dude, you’re so right. One time I tried and I pulled my hamstring and was out for two weeks.” He puts his hand on his forehead. “So embarrassing.”

I laugh, too. “It’s hard! My ex-boy—” I cut myself off, “Uh, my friend tried it once. Same thing. He never went back.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Will says, not skipping a beat. Maybe he didn’t hear? It’s not like I’m ashamed, but I met him four hours ago. I can’t trauma dump immediately. He would probably never speak to me again. “But you should see Monty. He glides over those things. He’s got the legs for it.”

“He’s tall.” It’s all I can manage to say as I keep thinking about what I almost said. There’s a quick honk and a white Mercedes pulls in front of us. It’s Uncle Nolan. “This is me. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

Will takes a step forward as soon as I do. “Well, wait, I—” he then steps back “—there’s a track meet this Thursday. Maybe you could come?”

I grab the car door handle and say, “Yeah, I think that will be fine.”

“Okay, cool,” he says. He gives me a small wave and starts down the sidewalk.

I get into the car. “Uncle Nolan!” I say.

“Hey, Bud!” He turns down the music. “Making friends already?”

Will is gone now, but I find myself trying to see him still. I picture him stretching on the track. He never told me what events he did. My guess is he sprints.

“I think so? We’ll see.”

“Listen, Kid, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. Work got the best of me recently. I thought we could spend an afternoon together before everyone else gets home?” He resembled my dad. Obviously, since they were brothers. But my uncle also has a softness in his eyes that my dad didn’t. Mine had this hardness, this perpetual glare. The lines on his face seemed to darken each year. The fights with Mom didn’t help.

“Okay,” I say, putting my seatbelt on. “That sounds cool.”

“Great!” He pulls out of the parking lot.

The afternoon is glowing. It’s another day where people are all over the town. Even in April when the weather is still a bit colder, people walk the town, go to the beaches, and do whatever. There’s a sense of freedom here that blows my mind. I couldn’t have imagined what it was like to just be. My moments of that were on stolen time.

“I thought I’d take you to one of our favorite places and since your family, you’re automatically a member here now too.” He pulls into a parking lot that has a surprising amount of Teslas and golf carts. It’s a country club. “Jonah, this is Shinnecock Hills. I’ve been playing golf here for years now.”

“This is—am I dressed right?” I’m seeing a lot of formal attire.

“You’re alright,” Nolan says. “It is a bit strict here, so just tuck in your shirt and you can’t be on your phone at all unless it’s in the phone room.”

“There’s a phone room?”

Nolan laughs. “It’s crazy, I know.”

I tuck my shirt in as we walk up. My uncle is greeted by several people even before we make it to the steps of the building. It smells like the ocean. The sounds of clubs hitting golf balls and seagulls fill the air. The clinking of glasses. Subtle laughter.

“Mr. Kildare, welcome, welcome.” A young man greets us immediately.

Nolan shakes his hand. “Good afternoon. I have brought my nephew here, we are going to be having a drink in the parlor.”

The man nods. “Absolutely.”

Remember earlier when I said I’ve often felt small? I’m back to that feeling. The people inside seem to talk in hushed voices. I heard a rumor that the actual real-life Calvin Klein lived in Southampton. Imagine running into him. Good lord. I keep looking over my shoulder seeing all sorts of people.

“Here we go.” Nolan has taken us to a small table on the deck. It’s more secluded and quiet. This is immediately better.

“This place is intense,” I say. “Y’all come here a lot?”

“A couple times a month,” he says. “Do you like it though? Look, over there, that body of water is Great Peconic Bay. It leads into the ocean that way. And our house is back over there.” He points over his shoulder.

A waiter brings us water. He orders a club soda with lime. I stick with the water.

“How was school?” Nolan asks.

“It was good, I guess. I learned quite a bit.”

“Ah, great. That school is known for its academics. It’s one of those places that feeds into the Ivey’s.”

I almost choke on my water. I was vague on purpose, but to think he actually believed I was talking about academics is funny. But I’m sure he wouldn’t be interested in learning about the social hierarchy.

For several minutes, we sit in silence and watch the golfers. I find myself entertained by trying to track the balls as they fly through the air and bounce on the green. There’s no way any part of me would want to try it, but it’s fine to watch. For now.

“Have you ever brought Blair, Cal, or Monty out here to play with you?” I ask.

Nolan lets out a few chuckles and shakes his head. “Blair and Cal wouldn’t be caught dead with a golf club in their hands. When they come here, they just wander off and gossip in the lounges. I’ve brought Monty a few times, but he gets bored. So, in short, not often.”

“Maybe if you can convince me enough, I’d be interested in giving it a go,” I say.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Silence falls between us again. It’s awkward and has been since I stepped into his car. He hasn’t been around much since I arrived. Mostly at night when I’m already in my bed. There’s this bouncing thought that makes me think he’s avoiding me, that he has his own sort of guilt. Something in him that makes him not want to be around me. I wonder if Vienna put him up to this? I could see it. She’s been the present one.

“What happened?” I blurt. As soon as the words escape my lips, I slide down in my seat. “Sorry,” I say.

His hand grips his glass. Condensation drips through his fingers. He blinks a few times and gazes out onto the green. A breeze flutters through my hair. There’s something swimming in his eyes.

“You remember your mom’s mother’s funeral a few years ago?” he asks, finally.

“Yes, that was when I last saw y’all.” There’s no forgetting that.

“Do you remember what Calvin was wearing?” He’s still looking out at the view.

I try to fly back in my memory. It’s been harder recently, things seem to escape me. I can’t seem to think back further than four months ago and that just replays in my dreams over and over again. But some pictures flash in my head. Of course, it was a funeral, so it was a lot of black. Nothing about what Cal was wearing stands out to me.

I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

“It was so small. I tried to explain to him that a funeral wasn’t the best time to wear something like it. But he insisted. He wanted to and we let him because it made him happy. It was a rainbow pin. And Blair put eyeliner on him.” My uncle's lips begin to quiver. “And your father—my brother, took me aside later and asked me why I would let my son look like that. To wear something like that.

“And he told me I should be ashamed of my family and that he would not be taking you around us anymore because he didn’t want you to pick up ‘learned behavior’. I couldn’t believe it. At his wife’s funeral, he thought to do this. And I was just as shocked that he thought this way. We grew up with loving parents who taught us to love our neighbors. But he was right in what he said, he refused to talk to us, visit us. Your mom would often reach out and try to do things behind his back, but it was hard on her and us. And the kids would always ask about you and I nor Vienna could ever explain why their cousin hadn’t come to their birthday. I don’t think they know now. I’m so sorry, Jonah. We should’ve… should’ve tried harder. We weren’t there and now we are and I’m sure it’s a whirlwind.” He finally looks at me and a single tear falls down his cheek.

I stand. Blood rushes and pulses in my head and heart. My hands shake, so I close them. “I need a second,” I mutter before walking off back inside. Finding the nearest bathroom, I stand in front of the mirror. My eyes seem to be jittering. I grasp the front of the vanity. My breathing is short and shallow.

That was it? My dad saw Cal wearing a fucking rainbow pin and eyeliner and that ended our familial relationship? From that—just that—everything was over?

And as an avalanche falls, the reality of it all falls over me. I’m crushed by it. It makes sense now. The quiet resentment I saw in my mom towards him. How their conversations got shorter, he worked later, she had friends over more often.

Whenever James came around, he’d leave or sit and drink beer in the living room not paying us any attention. Did he know? I wonder if he did but that night was the proof he needed to drop the hammer. What would he have done with me? Would he have hurt me?

I turn the sink on and wait for it to get as cold as possible before splashing water across my face. I did it several times before finding Nolan. He hasn’t touched his drink. It’s like he turned into a statue since I left, but he follows me as I sit back down.

“I’m so sorry, Jonah,” he says again.

“I just can’t believe it was that,” I say. “It seems so…stupid! So mundane and tiny. The last few years I thought it was something I could have done or something larger, more complicated. But it was because Calvin wore eyeliner and a rainbow pin. How can he—he could he do that to us?” It’s my turn to cry now and thank God there isn’t anyone in this section. I wipe my eyes and then wipe my hands on my pants. They streak with my tears. I’m surprised my body still knows how to cry.

“You know we don’t agree with anything he said or thought, right?” Nolan asks. “And your mom, she didn’t either. It was all so messy.”

“I hate him,” I mutter. “Can we leave?”

✦✦✦

BACK at the house, I close myself in my room. I tell Vienna that I’m not hungry. It’s true, I’m not. The stuff I was told sits in my stomach. Instead, I sit on the ledge on the inside of my window and peer out over the ocean. I do this until my back is numb, the sun has disappeared, and the moon is arching over the sky.

I pull out my phone, hesitating for a moment before going to my settings. When I left the hospital after the accident, I deleted all my social media apps. But I can’t help it now. He has to be out there somewhere. People don’t just disappear. I re-download them and immediately open Instagram. The app glitches when my inbox is flooded by messages. One-hundred and two. Tons of people from my old school. I swipe through them looking for his name. But there aren’t any. I gulp, and my stomach then twists.

“Where did you go?” I whisper. I search for his name, but nothing pops up. I search his mom's name, his dad's name — same thing. Nothing. He’s not dead. He can’t be. I Google him. I go down a rabbit hole. But it turns up the same, empty results.

I let my head fall back to hit the wall behind me. James and I didn’t go to the same school. He went to another one across the county. And he had a friend there that we’d hang out with here and there. What was her name? I close my eyes, picturing her. Red hair, brown eyes, a country accent, loved the color orange and listened to rock music. What was her name?

“Lila!” I say. I sit up and type her name. “C’mon, c’mon, please work.” The search pops up lots of Lilas. I click on each profile and profile photo trying to find her. I’m about to give up and then, “YES.” It’s her. Clear as day. Her account is private, but I can still message her. She’ll just have to accept it. I type out a message.

[Lila! It’s Jonah Kildare. I was James Caldwell’s boyfriend. I live in New York now and I don’t know how much you know or have been told, but I need to know where he is. I haven’t spoken to him in months and I can’t find him anywhere. Do you know anything?]

I throw my phone onto my bed and start biting my nails from the sudden sheer anxiety. What if it’s something bad? What if she doesn’t know?

There’s a knock on my door and then Calvin is poking his head in. “Hey, are you hungry?” he asks.

I’m rubbing one of my arms. “No, not really.”

“Want to join us, though? We’re having dessert soon and Mom made this key lime pie. It’s really good.” He gives a gentle smile.

“Okay, sure. I’ll be out soon.”

He closes the door.

I grab my phone and see nothing’s happened. She hasn’t responded. I refreshed the message in case it was being slow. But nope, nothing. “Fuck!” I throw the phone back on the bed and leave before I can check it again.

Everyone sits at the table under the dim light of the dining room.

Vienna sees me and smiles. “Hey! Thought you might be resting but these three can’t resist my key lime pie and wanted to make sure you had some.”

“It’s so good, I could cry,” Monty says.

“It’s so good, I could orgasm,” Calvin says. Everyone groans. “What?”

I take my seat. “Thanks.” My mind is still reeling.

“How was school? Nolan said you said you learned a lot.”

I nod. “Yes, a lot.”

Blair snickers. “Wait, did you tell them what you’re planning on doing? Mom, Dad, it’s crazy. Amazing, but crazy.”

“What is it?” Vienna cuts into her pie.

I take a deep breath. “Well, I’m going to run for senior class president for next year.”

“Whoa, really?” Nolan says, taking a bite. “That’s awesome!”

“I’ll say!” Vienna says, putting a slice on a plate and handing it to me. “What made you want to do that?”

“My mom always wanted me to do more. So, I’m going to put myself out there,” I say. The surge is coming back.

“It’s so cool,” Blair says, “and he’s running against Victor Vasilios. It would be even cooler if we were all in the same grade and could run as a package deal, but I guarantee you will have a following in no time. People can’t stand Victor.” She then takes a bite.

“Why not?” Vienna asks, sliding a plate toward Calvin.

“Mom, really?” Calvin says, taking his plate. “This is the guy who punched Monty last year and got that transfer guy from New Jersey kicked out.”

“Ohhhh, yikes. He’s mean, alright. Wait, is this the kid whose mom has the God-awful lip filler?” She sits.

Monty laughs. “Oh, right. Yeah, she did do that. It’s bad, Jonah. I want to quack at her every time I see her.”

“I have so much to learn,” I say. I take a bite. And Calvin was right about the pie.

When we’re all done, I set my plate in the dishwasher. Vienna is wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“I’m proud of you putting yourself out there,” she says. “It’s hard, but I’m sure you’ll be great, whatever happens.”

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around her. “Thank you for letting me be here,” I say, my head resting on her shoulder. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Oh, sweetie, we would have fought for you no matter what,” she says back, she rubs my back.

“I know that I’m probably a lot. I could never repay you,” I say.

“You are not a lot. You’re perfect.”

When I let go, I look right in her eyes. “Uncle Nolan told me why our families stopped talking. And I want you to know that it is not your fault. Not you or Uncle Nolan’s. Not Monty’s, not Blair’s, and definitely not Cal’s. It’s my dad’s fault. And he paid for it.” I give her a single nod and then go to my room.

My phone lays face down on the black blanket. I take a deep, deep breath before grabbing it.

[Lilaflower11 has accepted your message request]

[Lilaflower 11 has sent you a message]

“Oh, fuck.” I throw my phone again, pick it up, throw it back down. “Dammit, Jonah, just read it.” I pick it up again and open the message. My heart pounds at every word.

[Jonah!! Oh my God I was wondering what happened with you! I heard about the accident. I am so so sorry. My contact with James has been sporadic. He went through so much too after everything. But Jonah, you’re in New York? You’re not going to believe this, but James took up with some distant relatives. He’s in Rhode Island!]