The Best is Yet to Come (Chapter 11)
When Eva was setting the table for breakfast, she noticed Eli pad down the stairs much earlier than usual. "Did your brother say anything to you last night?" she asked him after he quickly took a seat.
Eli shook his head. "Not a word. You know how he gets when he's upset."
"That's what I was afraid of…"
Eva returned to the kitchen to finish preparing breakfast. She gave the sizzling bacon a final flip before transferring the strips to a paper towel. She caught another glance at Eli when she brought out the meat. He looked somber, his feet firmly planted on the ground. It must not have been easy sharing a room with someone so tense last night.
A slight creaking sounded out from above them, and George appeared at the table. He sighed. "I'm kinda glad Dad and Dave aren't here yet." He sunk into the chair next to Eli, who pulled him closer and rubbed his shoulder.
They sat in silence as Eva piled up the table with breakfast foods. No one dared to break the fragile atmosphere by speaking; it would have been the equivalent of triggering an avalanche.
Everyone's heart rate picked up when they saw Dave claim a spot at the anxious altar, his brow scrunched up.
"Morning," Eli said in forced cheer. "How did you sleep, brother?" He sucked in air through his clenched teeth.
"Cut the crap, Eli." Dave responded. "You don't have to be so scared either, George. I promise I won't lash out at anyone."
George turned away in guilt. Eli simply returned to his usual demeanor, reclining in his chair.
Eva placed an empty plate in front of Dave. "Sweetie, can we talk?" she muttered. She waved her hand at her other sons, who cleared out immediately.
"What is it, Mom?"
"I don't want you and your father to be fighting like this. You don't want to either, right?"
Dave purses his lips. "No, I don't. But I couldn't just let him get away with ripping into Hal so much."
"I know, and it just shows how much you care about him." She wrapped an arm around her son's shoulders. "I talked with your father last night, and he feels guilty."
"Really?" Dave softly questioned.
Eva nodded. "I think you both said things that you regretted. Why don't you apologize?"
The brunette crosses his arms. "Alright, I'll apologize."
"Thank you, sweetheart." She kissed him on the cheek and approached the wall near the stairs. "Jack! Breakfast is ready!"
Jack thudded down the stairs and into the kitchen. He stiffly sat down next to Dave, as that was the only seat available.
"Before we eat," Eva interrupted Dave reaching for a strip of bacon. He retracted his hand, keeping eye contact with his mother the whole time. "Jack, Dave, I think you two have some things to say to each other."
"Um," Dave looked down at his barren plate. "Dad, I'm sorry for yelling at you last night. I probably overreacted to how you were at dinner…"
"David, I'm sorry too." He eyed his wife, who nodded for him to continue. "I shouldn't have pressured him so much or said what I did about him." He turned his gaze away. "After all, he must be at least halfway decent if you're friends with him."
"That's very sweet of you, Jack." Eva said. "Thank you both for working things out."
"Genius interrogation technique, Mom," Eli added. "Deprive them of food until they do what you want."
Eva laughed. "I would never do that to my boys!" Dave interpreted that as a cue to retrieve the meat he was reaching for. When his mother said nothing, everyone else took food as well.
"George, could you get the mail from last night?" Jack asked. "I haven't had a chance to read through it."
"Sure thing!" He bounded into the dining room, and returned a moment later with the stack of letters. His father accepted and leafed through them.
He held one close to his face, squinting at the return address. "Huh. This one says it's for you, George." He flipped to the next letter. "You have one too, Eli." He slid the letters to their recipients.
George appraised his message. "Why did the school send me something?" He tore open the envelope and skimmed the contents. "'George Pliskin, we are thrilled to inform you that you have been selected for enrollment in Bartlett High's sister school, Anchorage Academy. Your academic aptitude and vigilance in learning has proven you worthy of a spot in this fine institution, which we hope will take you to new heights and further your education.'"
"Honey, that's amazing!" Eva cheered.
"It even says here that tuition's free!" George examined the address. "The school looks pretty far, though. If I did go there, I'd have to live in a dorm."
"That would be a good experience for you, George,"Jack intervened. "You'd learn to be self-reliant and independent."
"Okay, that makes sense…"
"Eli, did you get accepted too?" George asked.
"No," he whined. "Mine says I have to go to some remedial school."
"What?" Jack took Eli's letter. "Let me see this." He scanned the paper, muttering the words to himself. "This is ridiculous! You're no delinquent! You just don't apply yourself."
"Yeah! I'm lazy, not destructive!" Dave groaned.
"I don't know, Jack," Eva spoke in a low voice to her husband. "You're right, he doesn't exactly have the best work ethic. Maybe going there could help him out."
"Eva, he doesn't need any of that garbage." Jack argued back. "If you're worried about his work ethic, there are civilian jobs open at the base. I could get him in one of those."
His wife's face contorted in thought. "He does need money for his car, too…"
"What are you guys talking about?" Eli loudly questioned. Embarrassed, his parents addressed him.
"Eli, I'm going to see if I can get you a job at the base," Jack announced. "That's just what you need to get some order in your life."
"Whatever you say, man." Eli crunched on his bacon.
Eva peered at the clock in the kitchen behind her. "We can wrap up this discussion later. I don't want anyone to be late." On that note, the conversation fell.
Dave hadn't said a word about his brothers' letters because he was stuck ruminating about last night. He genuinely did forgive his father, but his words lingered. He chewed his breakfast thoughtfully.
"You'd think he would've taken care of his own 'bullies' by now."
He'd never seen Hal get beat up or tormented in person; he didn't even know what his bullies looked like. He imagined that they wouldn't have to be extremely strong to intimidate his friend, though they still could be.
When everyone finished their meals, Eva cleared the table and shooed the males out of the kitchen. Dave strided into the car with his brothers, having derived a clear idea from his musings.
Tomorrow was homecoming, and the school's air was more electric than ever. People donned patriotic attire in accordance with that day's spirit theme, the halls colored with moving bodies that, together, resembled a rustling American flag.
Nothing changed for Hal. He still scurried to his locker while looking over his shoulder. His nerves made him fumble with the combination lock; he patted down his hands and tried again. He was about to test the handle when someone pulled him away from it.
Hal fell to the ground and whimpered. when the hand on his hood jerked away. "I-I'm sorry…"
"What the hell was that?" Adam took hold of Hal's shirt and yanked him forward, only using one arm. "God, you fucking piss baby!" He threw him to the ground again, the lockers rattling off a metallic slam.
Hal coughed. He buried his face into his hands to stem the flow of tears. "P-Please…"
"Or what?" Adam taunted, a sadistic grin plastered on his face. He gave his victim a sharp kick in the chest. "Don't think that wimpy shit's gonna get you outta this, Hal."
Hal found it disturbing that the aggressor knew his name. He pulled his knees closer to his (surely) bruised chest and waited for the next attack.
"Oh come on, Emmerich!" Adam knocked Hal to the side with his foot and stomped on his abdomen. A strangled wheeze escaped the smaller male. "You're making this boring!"
Hal watched the stream of students behind Adam pass by without a second thought. They either had their eyes glued to books, or blatantly looked away. It had been almost four years; why wouldn't anyone help him? How could they not see the suffering right under their noses? Did his fellow peers feel such contempt for him that they thought this necessary, or even just?
Another kick, and his glasses fell off of his face. He shielded his eyes with his arms again, his breathing rapid and shuddering.
The ravine blurred into a mass of color, an unflinching highway. One deviated, though; a gray dot stood next to Adam, from what Hal could tell.
"What are you doing?" A familiar voice barked. Dave.
Adam scoffed and turned to address the interruption. "That's none of your concern,Pliskin."
"Answer me."
Hal scrambled for his glasses. Thankfully, they were still intact, and he shoved them back over his eyes. The blobs took human form. Their faces were hard as stone, intimidation etched into the creases.
The noise in the hallway disappeared. A ring of spectators crowded around the pair. They all stood with bated breath, enthralled at the possibility of violence.
"You really think you're in any position to be standing up to me?" While Dave was slightly larger than average, Adam still towered over him. He maintained a cool composure while scanning the group.
"Maybe not," Dave conceded. "But I don't care if someone is getting hurt." He met Adam's challenge with a grim glare.
"If you insist, Pliskin!"
From Hal's perspective, the situation could have been pulled straight from an action movie. The punch to Dave's jaw was seen from an obscured angle, a common film trick to avoid actually hurting anyone.
The whooping and hollering afterwards could have been seen as fake too, if it wasn't so piercing and guttural. Incoherent yells belted out by the crowd stuffed the hallway with an overabundance of stimulation. The burst of confusion and anger exploded into existence like a firecracker, paralyzing the frightened male.
Sharp clacking of shoes entered the scene. The colorful sparks immediately dissipated, and the students dispersed as if their lives depended on it.
Hal met Dave's scrutiny; his unwavering blue eyes chilled him to the bone.
He waved his hand. "Go!" he mouthed.
Hal nodded and scurried away.
"What is all of this?" the teacher revealed to be Mr. Palmer announced. "Someone tell me this instant!"
Dave sighed, rubbing his jaw. "He's not here anymore, but he was beating on another student. I had to stop him."
"Adam, is this true?"
"That's not true at all." Adam smoothly stated. "He was the one who was hurting another student. If I hadn't intervened, that poor kid could've gotten seriously hurt."
"Mr. Palmer, he's lying!" He felt ridiculous pleading with a teacher like this. He flaunted his bruised jaw. "Would I be the one injured if I was the bully?"
"I had to pacify him, Mr. Palmer. Unfortunately, I was forced to use violence."
"Mr. Palmer-"
"That's enough, David!" the teacher barked. "I'm issuing you a detention for disturbing the peace of the school. Be grateful you're getting that instead of a suspension."
"Are you kidding me?" Dave balked. "I'm not the one who did anything wrong! This is total bullshit!"
"You might want to watch your words, Pliskin." Adam said. "You don't know what else can happen around here." His warning drifted off into space. "By the way, tell your brother he's not going to be student body president."
When Adam marched away, he muttered to himself "Something like that would never happen in this school."