A Life Worth Living - 3. Chapter 3

CAR. snow. Crash. James. Mom. Dad. Car. Snow. Screaming. Kissing. Heat. Snow. Christmas. Snow. Crash. Mom. James. Dad. Crash. Crash. Jamesjamesjamesjames.

“James. JAMES!” My upper body flies forward. I’m out of breath. Sweating, breathing fast. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

My heart rattles with each breath I take as if someone is reaching in me and shaking it with all their force. I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m crunched over but my blanket has fallen down only covering my legs. My skin is hot.

“Jonah?” It’s Blair. She’s opened my bedroom door and just barely can I see her head poking in. The dim hall light creeps in, spilling around her silhouette.

I scramble, hitting my back against the headboard and dragging the covers with me to cover my bare chest. I’m still breathing hard; every air gulp is shallow and harsh.

She pushes the door open and rushes to my side, flicking on my bedside lamp. With her hair pulled back and face clean of makeup, she looks like the little cousin I knew a few years ago. She looks over me with a delicate gaze.

“I heard you scream,” she says. “What’s going on?”

I gasp some, my body still vibrating. I shake my head, and wetness forms in my eyes and spills down my cheeks. “I—I—I…”

“Okay, here, here, come with me.” She grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet, the covers spilling to the floor as she leads me out of my room and down the hall. Floor lights illuminate the ground with a golden glow while moonlight peers through the windows. Everything is lit up with a bright yet dark whiteness. Within a minute, she has me on the back deck under a clear sky and gentle breeze. The ocean rumbles. “Breathe,” she says, putting her hand on my back. “Just breathe.”

I let my hands find the porch railing and grasp it with a hard grip. My head falls a little as I let the air enter my lungs. In and out. In and out.

“Sorry you heard that,” I mumble. I let go of the railing, hands falling to my side.

“I’m a light sleeper. It happens.” She leans onto the railing, her hair now blowing around. “I come out here when I can’t sleep. It usually helps me.”

“Yeah, I can see why.”

“Wanna sit?”

I nod and we settle into one of the patio couches. I try to tuck my legs in under me. “Sorry,” I say. “I just kind of realized I’m only in my underwear.”

She shrugs. “I have two brothers,” she says. “Doesn’t affect me at all.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“I hate bad dreams,” she says, peering out onto the water. “They ruin my whole night. And I hate how you’re having them because of—” she pauses. “I remember hearing about it. Mom sat us down in the living room. God, she was a mess.

“And she told us what happened. The accident. And all I could think about was you being all alone down there.” She reaches up and wipes her eyes. “Oh my God,” she continues, and she wipes her eyes again and lets out a distorted laugh-cry. “I don’t know why this is hitting me right now.”

Air rushes over my skin. “It hits me at the weirdest times, too,” I reply. She turns her head facing me. “Sometimes, I can go a whole day without thinking about it. Others? It’s like I’m back in the car again.”

“It must’ve been so scary,” she says, just above a whisper.

“It was worse than scary.”

If only she knew the truth. If they all did. How it ended that way. Would they think of me differently? No, I don’t think they would.

We go back inside and she hugs me. “You may be my cousin technically. But you’re also my big brother. I’ve always wanted one.”

“I think Monty and Calvin would be mad if you said that,” I say, standing at my bedroom door.

“They’re only twenty minutes older than me in total. It doesn’t count,” she says. “Goodnight, Jonah.” She walks off and disappears into the darkness of the hall.

 

✦✦✦

 

I manage to sleep for a few hours before the Sunday light pours into my bedroom. School starts for me tomorrow and I want to throw up. The turnaround for everything has been crazy quick. Just last week, literally four days ago, I was in North Carolina packing my things into boxes and various suitcases. Today I’m in New York and my cousins are taking me shopping. Calvin said, “You must look your best. Like a true Kildare” and at first, not a single part of me knew what that meant.

I quickly learned and really should’ve known what that meant. You see, I grew up in a small mountain town and people wore a lot of camo and jeans. Up here though? That’s not gonna fly. People have money here to dress like they’re modern-day royalty. Think old money.

My uncle Nolan has always, from what I remember, been a health nut. He became filthy rich several years ago after developing these health apps. My aunt is a pretty well-known author. And all of that money trickles down to their kids. A lot of it goes to their clothes.

It’s warm out. The ocean breeze is not as strong today. The town is busy. Lots of parents out with their kids. We dodge them left and right on the sidewalk. I almost find myself tripping over people’s feet.

“We should start here,” Calvin says, stopping in front of a store called Oceanus. Mannequins line the window.

Blair tilts her sunglasses down and smiles. “Ooh, love this store. It’s giving sailor chic.”

“Nautical realness,” Calvin adds. They giggle.

“Ignore them.” Monty steps up to my side. “And to answer the question that is pounding in your head, yes, they actually talk like that. Come on.” He leads me into the store and I’m hit with an overwhelming scent of vanilla which is quite different than what I was expecting. And I’m not sure what I was expecting, but not this.

A woman in tall heels and a navy blue pantsuit greets us with a warm smile and, “Look, my favorite triplets!” She shakes all their hands.

“Pretty sure we’re the only triplets in the area, ma’am,” Monty says.

She swats a hand. “Doesn’t mean you’re not my favorite! Who’s this?” Her eyes fall on me like an avalanche. I’m stuck under her piercing gaze. She’s judging me. To her credit, I am wearing sweatpants. That was a major argument this morning.

“This is our cousin, Jonah,” Monty replies. “He’s staying with us.” He leaves it at that and I’m immediately grateful. No way I want my dirty laundry aired out to this woman. Or anyone, really. “He’s from North Carolina.”

“Ah.” She nods and squints her eyes a little as if taking me all in. “I see. You’re a Kildare?” She’s now crossed her arms. Mom would never step into a place like this. My hands are sweating.

“Yes,” I say.

“Well, then, hold on,” she looks over her shoulder, “Eric!” She’s back to looking at all four of us and smiling.

“Oh my God,” Blair says. “Are we about to do what I think we’re about to do?” She’s bouncing and beaming.

“I think you’re right,” Calvin says, grabbing her arm. He’s smiling ear-to-ear.

A tall, and I mean tall, guy comes to the front of the store. He’s wearing a forest green sweater that fits him like a skin. His hair is middle parted and wavy, skin glowing. It’s as if he walked straight out of a Tom Ford runway show.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. I’m locked in on him. My heart is a thumping mess. Monty nudges me. He must’ve noticed. No, 一 they all have. Blair’s red in the face and looking at the floor. “Hiii,” I say. Good lord.

“This is my assistant, Eric.” The woman says. I still don’t know her name. “Eric, this is the Kildare’s cousin from North Carolina. He’s staying with them and looks like they brought him here in a dire emergency.”

I frown. “Well, I wouldn’t quite call it a一”

She claps a single, loud clap. I’m cut off. “Eric, start. Make him look like a real Kildare.”

“Yeah, one sec.” I pull Monty away into a corner of the cologne shelves. They waft around me like bad spirits. “Dude, uh, no offense but what the fuck is this?”

He nods a few times. “Yeah, I know. She is intense. Calvin and Blair like it here, though.”

“Okay, so can we go somewhere else and let them prance around in here? This woman just told me I look like shit.”

“Well, she didn’t say that.”

I give him a deadpan look. “She said I’m in here in a dire emergency!” I wave my hands around, trying not to yell.

“Well, you are wearing sweatpants and a flannel.”

I smack his arm. “Fuck you.”

He puts an arm around me. “Let’s look at this in a positive way. You would get to let that—” he points over to Eric who is chatting it up with the other two and casually swipes his hand through his perfect hair— “man dress you up and make you look all nice and sexy. You start school tomorrow. Sorry, dude, but you won’t regret this.”

Prince Charming over there glances at us and shines a pearly white smile and winks. This seems wildly inappropriate. My stomach twists at the same time as it sends tingles through my veins.

“Fuck it,” I mutter. “Make it quick.”

The woman, who I find out is named Kelly, has other minions and they whisk me away putting me in the middle of a backroom area that has a little circular stage and lights all around. Eric and the Minions run around like crazy throwing all sorts of clothes at me and I’m made to try all them all on. It’s a lot of measuring, head shakes and nodding. A lot of “Ooh, yes” and “Nope, nope that that off”. How am I supposed to feel?

Thirty or so minutes and several outfit changes later, Eric is now on one knee measuring my ankle when he asks, “So, staying with the cousins?” His hand wraps around an ankle with one hand and pushes his glasses back with the other.

“Uhh, yeah, yeah I am.” I bite my lip.

“How are you liking Southampton so far?”

“Not sure. It’s only been a few days.”

He moves to the other foot. “I moved here only a few years ago. Dad wanted a change of scenery.” He stands, smiles, walks over to a rack, and grabs a pair of khaki pants. “Here, try these.”

He turns while I change. “Not sure my dad would’ve liked it here. It’s too, uh, much for his taste. Okay, you can look.”

“Not bad, not bad, fits well,” he says. With a single finger, he touches my shoulder and spins me around. “You could always take photos to send to him? Maybe he can grow to like it.”

A heaviness fills my body as if anchors were tied to my feet trying to bring me down. And they do. Tears spring from my eyes, quiet and hot and when he spins me back to face him, his face drops in horror. I’ve been doing a lot of crying lately. And everyone has seen it.

“Oh my God, Jonah, what—why—are you okay?” he asks, eyes wide.

I start wiping my face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.”

I step off the little stage and sit, putting my head between my legs and shaking between each sob. “My mom and dad died,” I mutter between breaths. “In an accident back in December.” I crane my head up and stare at the lights. “And it was snowing and we were in an argument over—” I shake my head, “—It’s my fault.”

Eric kneels and places a hand on my back. “I am so, so sorry Jonah.” His voice is soft, reminding me of James. They have similar eyes. Not a single part of me can look at him now I’ve made the connection, but his hand on my back is warm. Comforting.

“I miss them,” I breathe out.

“As cliché as this sounds, you can’t blame yourself. Accidents happen,” he replies.

The lump in my throat is hard and painful. There’s only so much one can say about what killed their parents. Especially in a situation like this. As comforting as he is being and can be, there is no way you can really tell someone that it is your fault. How I took off my shoe in a fit of rage and threw it at my dad causing him to swerve and throw the car off a mountain. Because then they’re wrong about it not being your fault. How does one look at you after that?

“Everything okay?”

I look up and Monty is poking his head in, eyeing us.

“Yeah,” I say, standing and wiping my face. “Had a moment. I think we’re done here.”

We gather all the clothes I’ll be taking back in several large bags. Apparently, they have a family account here and they’ll just add it to the account and call it a day. Everyone grabs a bag. Calvin and Blair got some things too, like a new pair of sunglasses that she is now wearing. They’re big on her face but she doesn’t seem to mind.

As we’re halfway back to the car, Monty asks, “Hey, was everything with Eric okay?”

I meet his eyes and see his curiosity with a mixture of caution. Like he’s toeing the right words with me. But I shrug. “Sure,” I say. “It was fun. Somehow the topic of parents came up and I folded quickly.”

“Oh.” He kicks a pebble down the brick sidewalk. “Shit. I’m sorry. We..or I, shouldn’t have left.”

“It’s fine,” I reply, holding up a bag. “We got what we came here for right?” I say, smiling. “Right? I get to be a true Kildare.”

Instead of smiling, he stops and places a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I hope you know or want you to know that you are a part of us, our family, no matter what. No matter what your dad or my dad had going on, you’re here now. You’re a Kildare.”

“Even if I wear sweatpants and flannels?”

“Except for that.” I shove him. He laughs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Of course, even with that.” He places the bags he’s carrying on the ground and slowly hugs me. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Hey!” Blair’s voice breaks us from our hug. “Stop hugging and let’s go! The tide is coming in!”

My mouth drops a little. “Going to the beach at fifty degrees is crazy, she knows that right?”

“Welcome to New York, cousin!” Monty grabs the bags and begins running. “We’re coming!” There’s shrieks of laughter as our feet hit the sidewalk.

 

✦✦✦

MONDAY starts with Calvin spilling coffee on his white shirt.

“Fuck me sideways,” he mutters grabbing a napkin.

“Cal,” Vienna says. “Language like that at seven AM? Really?”

He dabs his shirt. “You should hear what I say in my dreams.”

Blair sips on her coffee. “I do. Your room is next to mine and you sleep talk. Moaning in your sleep and all.” She then closes her eyes and goes, “Oh, oh, yes, right there, Kyle!”

“BLAIR, FUCK OFF.” He throws the napkin at her.

I’m shocked. And also trying to hold in my laughter, but mostly shocked. School mornings in this household are definitely going to be a show every time. Mornings back with my parents were quite uneventful. Dad worked the third shift at the hospital and Mom was a teacher at the middle school. It was quiet and I’d sort of do my own thing. I was the last one to leave and usually the first to return.

Vienna slides a plate of scrambled eggs and some fruit across the breakfast table to me. “You look handsome,” she says.

I spent a good twenty minutes staring at my now full closet in my underwear trying to decide what to do with all the clothes bought for me yesterday. And yes, I know I’m supposed to wear them, but they stared back at me like I wasn’t supposed to touch them. All the soft, clean, neatly creased fabrics seemed too delicate for my sort of rough touch. Eventually, a navy blue sweater over a white collared shirt and khaki pants is what I settled on. The school I’m going to has tan and blue as the school colors so might as well blend in.

Blair wears a navy blue skirt and white shirt-blouse thing, whatever you call it. Calvin wears white pants and a blue-striped, half-buttoned shirt. We all sort of match and I hope we don’t look ridiculous walking in.

“Thanks,” I reply. “If I’m being honest, I feel kind of ridiculous.”

“What? Why? You look hot,” Cavin says, with fruit in his mouth. Some strawberry juice dribbles down his chin, and he wipes with the back of his hand.

Blair squints at him. “Dude, he’s our cousin. What the hell?”

Calvin rolls her eyes. “What? You say Mom looks hot all the time.”

“Because she’s my mom and I’m a girl!” She slaps his shoulder. “Look, he’s red in the face!” They both lock their gazes on me. Monty is definitely the oddball triplet. These two have similar features with golden hair, green eyes, and pink lips. Without knowing they were triplets, I wouldn't have guessed. Monty has black hair and brown eyes, like Uncle Nolan.

“Guys, stop torturing him,” Monty says, turning the corner. Speak of the devil. He’s walking while trying a blue tie down his white shirt and khaki pants. He sees us all and smiles. “Wow, we look like a real crew here!” He pats my back before sitting. He stabs the plate of fruit with a fork, popping a grape into his mouth.

“I love it,” Blair says. “We gotta take a photo of us all in front of this sunrise before we head out.”

“I’m leaving in fifteen,” Vienna says.

“Why are we leaving so early?” Calvin asks.

“Because I have to meet with Jonah and his school counselor,” Vienna replies.

“God, I cannot wait until we turn sixteen in a couple of weeks. Then we can get cars,” Calvin mutters.

“Ahem.” Vienna shoots him a look. “Car. Singular.”

“Where’s Uncle Nolan?” I ask. He’s only been around a few times since I’ve come. Apparently, he hasn’t even met my social worker yet.

“He’s working, but he’s picking you up from school,” Vienna says.

“All of us?” Blair interrupts.

“No, sweetie, Monty has track, Calvin has piano, and you have dance.”

“Oh, right.” She turns back to her phone.

Oh. This is odd. It’s been years since I’ve spent time with my uncle. Dad didn’t talk to him much in the last few years. I’ve always wondered why. It was always a weird topic. Mom would get a Christmas card and bring them up. How my cousins were “beautiful” and “looking so grown!” but Dad would sort of grunt and walk off. Part of me wondered if it was a money thing. Was my dad jealous of his brother’s success? That couldn’t be it. Dad never cared about money. He never worried about it even though we weren’t at all wealthy.

I’ll be thinking of this all day, I think.

Blair has us take a photo on the back porch where the sunrises. It takes several minutes as she has to make sure she looks good. Not us, though. She didn’t care how the rest of us looked.

Vienna piles us into her SUV. My heart pounds in my rib cage. I get to be

the new kid today. I’m back to wanting to throw up.

Monty is next to me in the car. “What’s your schedule?” he asks.

“Uh, lemme see.” I pull out my phone and open up my email where my schedule was sent. “Here.” I give him my phone.

“Let’s see, let’s see,” he says.

“Wait! I wanna see!” Calvin leans over the seat, peering at my phone. Blair follows.

I slide down in my seat.

“Oh, you got AP Art third period?” Calvin asks. “Dude, that’s a crazy cool class.”

Vienna snaps her fingers a few times really fast. Snap, snap, snap. “That reminds me!” she says, “Jonah, I got a notification that all your art stuff is coming today!”

Shit. I forgot about that. My art stuff.

After the accident, nothing creative came to mind. Even now nothing does. All of that was stripped away. I wanted to burn it all. Throw it into a trash can. Throw it into a river. It was my whole world. Painting, drawing, all of it. I’d get lost in canvases for hours.

The last piece I was working on was a gift for James.

I swallow thick saliva at the thought of him.

It was a portrait of him. I was only halfway done, but it was the most beautiful thing. A ton of, if not all, of my art supplies were put into storage. I wonder if—

“All of it?” I say, my voice cracking.

“Yeah!” Vienna replies. “They got it all out of the storage you put it in. How exciting!”

Monty nudges me. “I didn’t know you were an artsy kind of guy.”

I look out the window. “Used to be.”

“Hey, maybe you can get back into it. The teacher, Mr. Sides, is a really cool hippy kind of guy.” Monty chuckles.

“I just know he smokes a ton of weed,” Blair says. Calvin agrees.

When we arrive at school, my head feels dizzy. It’s a swarm of teenagers with their loud voices. Skateboards and backpacks. Vienna parks near the front and they lead me into a courtyard and I’m almost immediately struck by a tennis ball.

“Sorry!” some guy yells before he runs off laughing and jumping on some other guy's back.

My cousins are popular. That’s a learned fact. They wave, say hi, and hug people left and right. They push me through the crowd, introducing me as best they can. I catch a few names.

Blair eventually peels off with a girl named Ida who smells like pine needles.

Calvin perks up when he sees a tall guy with bulging thigh muscles and winks at me. Must be Kyle.

Monty says he’ll meet me at my classroom after third period and rushes off.

Now it’s me and Vienna and she smiles while we go into the front office. It’s large and there’s a massive fish tank on one wall. A woman with round glasses is behind a desk. She perks up when she sees us.

“Mrs. Kildare! Hi!” she says.

“Good morning, Francis. I’m meeting Ms. Everton today for my nephew who is enrolled starting today,” Vienna says. I’m clutching my backpack straps.

“Right, right,” Francis says. “I just saw her walk back to her office. Give me one moment.” She walks off.

“This place is crazy,” I say, looking around. The place is sleek and modern. It’s like I could eat off the floor.

“Vienna!” A woman’s voice booms through the room.

“Danielle,” Vienna says, hugging her. “So good to see you. I was so obsessed with your honeymoon photos from Italy I saw recently.”

Danielle, who I assume is my new school counselor, is young and bouncing on her feet. She’s wearing all different shades of green and has perfectly straight black hair. She swats a hand and says, “Don’t remind me. I would do anything to be back there.” She turns to me. “You must be the famous fourth Kildare I’ve heard about.” She sticks out a hand, I shake it. “I’m Mrs. Everton, I am the counselor for the eleventh grade.”

“Oh, okay, hi,” I say.

“Let’s go back to my office and chat. Classes start in about twenty, so we’ve got enough time.” She nods back towards the direction of her office. We trail behind her. “Take a seat wherever.”

I sit in one of the three chairs in front of her desk. It smells like cinnamon in her office.

“How are you doing today, Jonah?” she asks, placing her chin to rest on her propped-up hands.

“I’m fine.” I squirm a little.

“Listen, your aunt did let me know you were coming last week and I also did get a call from Mr. Porter with Social Services. I’m filled in to the extent that I need to be. With that being said, I want to be a support for you while you’re here in any capacity you feel comfortable. Whether you want to chat or take a few moments to decompress, my door is always open.”

It’s always a little overwhelming when people throw their words of support at you. Sometimes it’s hard to know when they’re being genuine or not. I feel as if I’ve gotten better at sifting through the bullshit. So far? Her? She seems genuine.

I relax a little. “Thanks,” I say.

“Southampton Secondary is a great school. I’m sure you’ll make your way in no time.”

After the meeting, Ms. Everton walks me to my first class. My nerves seem to be poking out of my skin. The bell rings.

 

✦✦✦

 

HERE’S how it’s going so far.

First period was English with Ms. Hartfield. She introduced me to the class. I sat down. She taught. A few people said hi. Class ended. I made it out alive without a scrape. The only thing was that when I told her who I was she said, “Oh, another one?”

Second period was Biology with Ms. Porter. The same thing happened. I got an introduction. I sat at a lab table. She taught a lesson on the Krebs Cycle. But she also did the same thing too.

“I’m Jonah Kildare,” I said.

She said, “Kildare?”

I nodded.

“As in the triplets?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said back.

“So, there’s another one of you?”

“I’m their cousin,” I said. She smiled thinly and asked me to sit.

I turn the corner to where the art studios are and each step is like stepping in quicksand. I’m slow and dreading what I’d signed up for. But my mind has been grey and sad and I’d thought maybe, just maybe this would jumpstart it. Find some color again.

A guy with a man bun and white T-shirt is sitting on a desk when I enter the room. He’s eating an apple and perks up when he sees me. Only a few other students have arrived so far. They chat to each other, not yet noticing me

“Oh!” the man says, bringing his feet to the floor. “You must be Jonah, right?”

“Yes, sir.” I nod.

“I’ve been waiting for you! I’m Mr. Sides. I’m Super excited to have an addition to my class!” He gestures to the circle of large canvases sitting on equally large easels. My hands find themselves, fingers wrapping around one another. “You’ll be my eighth student! It’s rare to get a lot of students in this class. I hope you like it and find your artistic way here.”

My eyes are still frozen on the way the room lights up from the sun landing on all the art hanging around the room. It smells of paint, but not in a gross way, just in a way that lets me know that I’m okay for now.

“I hope so too,” I say, softly.

“Here, you can go sit over there next to William.” He points to an easel and canvas on the left side and middle of the room. A backpack is on the ground leaning against a stool. A leg is visible and that’s it. “William! Move over and let our new student, Mr…”

“Kildare.”

“Kildare? Wow, another one of you?”

“Wow,” I mutter. “Third time.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Anyway, William, move over, let Mr. Kildare sit at that station next to you.”

I head over to the empty spot and sit. Looking at the floor, I see his foot first. He’s wearing brown loafers. Black socks. I let my eyes slowly travel up his leg, my head moving with my gaze. Khaki pants. Brown belt. Tucked-in dark blue polo shirt.

He’s looking at me. Black framed glasses. Straight nose. Dark, wavy hair. Blue eyes. He smiles. “Hey, I’m William.” He leans a little, getting closer to me.

I stand. “HI.” And then I sit again. “Shit, sorry. Hi.”

William cocks his head. “You good?”

“I’m sorry. First day.” I wipe my hands on my pants. “I’m Jonah.”

“The long lost Kildare?” He’s smiling, giving me his eyes.

“Huh?”

“Oh, yeah, you're already famous.” His smile is burning into my memory like a thousand suns. I want to stare at him forever.

“Wow, um. Okay.” My foot taps the side of the stool.

“It’s okay, Jonah. Just be you.” He picks out a pencil from the small bucket attached to the easel. “I think I know what I’ll draw now.”

“Huh?” My eyes feel like they’re bugging out of my skull.

William chuckles. It feels familiar. He turns his easel away from me. “Now don’t go peeking.”

“Are you—”

“Good almost lunchtime, class!” Mr. Sides announces. “I know you are all probably hungry as you teenagers usually are. Today, pick up those pencils. Pick up those paintbrushes and use that hunger for our overpriced school lunch and turn it into something magical. I, on the other hand, need to catch up on my taxes or my wife will have my head.” He smiles and goes to his desk.

“He does this a lot,” William says to me.

“His taxes?” I scrunch my eyebrows.

“No, silly. He lets us do whatever we want. As long as we’re doing art.”

I look around and see that the others have begun doing something on their canvases. I try to peer over at what William’s doing and he catches me. “What is that?”

“I said no peeking.” He smirks and gets back to what he’s doing.

I don’t do much on mine. My brain still feels fried. I just make a pattern of shapes and shade it here and there. It’s black and white and totally boring. I just hope no one really sees it. It could probably make a good fire starter. I try to sneak glances at William. He taps his foot against his stool in a light tap, tap, tap. Sometimes, he glances at me, but quickly turns back. But there’s always a lingering upturn of his full lips. The windows in the classroom are high up and warm light rays strike down on us. If he turns just the right way, I can see a faint resemblance of James in him.

When the class ends, he’s smirking at me, tapping his pencil against the edge of the canvas.

My face flushes. “What?” I ask.

He leans towards me again. “Ready for the big reveal?”

“I dunno? Am I?”

“I think you are.” He turns it towards me and I let out a gasp. In the last hour, he’s managed to draw a detailed, yet simple portrait of me sitting on the stool. One leg dangling up some, the other with a foot on the ground. My backpack slumped on the ground. My sort of messy hair. My deer-in-the-headlights look. It’s amazing.

“My God. What?” I stutter. “This is incredible.”

“You, my new friend, have a very drawable face.” He bites his lip. “Take that as a compliment. Do you wan—”

“Will!” He’s cut off by a sharp blurting of his name. He freezes for a moment before leaning to the other side of the canvas to see who it is. It’s like he’s gone rigid.

A guy comes over to him. “Dude, you comin’ to lunch?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah.” William unzips his backpack and tosses the pencil inside.

“The hell is this?” the guy asks. “You draw this?”

William nods, but he doesn’t make eye contact.

“Who the hell is this?” But as soon as he says that, he finds me and frowns. “Who the hell are you?”

I don’t say anything, I just stare back at him. There’s a faint scar under one of his eyes.

“I just asked you a question, dude,” he says to me.

“Victor, let’s go.” William starts to stand, but Victor shoves him back down.

“No, I want to know who this fucker is. That apparently you drew?”

“I’m Jonah Kildare,” I say, well, more like spew. I feel the crackling heat of sweat beginning to spread all over me.

This guy Victor breaks a grin, a thin, nasty grin. “Oh, goodie. A fourth one.” He comes to me, towering over me as I’m still sitting. “Why did William draw you, huh?”

“Victor.” It’s Monty. He appeared next to him. They’re the same height. And from where I’m at, my cousin looks bigger than usual. “You better fuck off before I beat your ass.”

Victor comes close to him and broadens his shoulders. “Wanna try?”

“Boys! Go to lunch!” Mr. Sides calls out.

“C’mon, William. Let’s let Montgomery and his charity case go.”

Williams puts his backpack on and begins trailing Victor, but before he’s out the door, he turns back and mouths, “Bye.”

And he’s gone.