Chapter 13:

"You alone can make my song take flight; it's over now the music of the night." –Phantom of the Opera

Jorge,

This better get to you on time because I'm using that weird fast service thing. I hope you're doing ok. And you know that weird snot looking spot on the jacket. Jorge, I swear, that wasn't me. That was Bay. She was having a skizofrenic—ok, I know I can't spell—attack and also OCD or whatever that it. I'm sort of afraid for her... yeah, I know you think I have a soft spot for her now, but I swear I don't. She's just really scary.

Anyway, I hope the jacket brings you luck with Julie and destroying the family or whatever you're trying to do. Don't hurt them too bad. Yeah, that's it. The jacket hasn't brought me too much luck, but that's just me. Maybe it'll be better for you.

Alek

Jorge opened the package that arrived with him with such flourish that Julie's mouth dropped open. This was obviously a side of Jorge she hadn't seen. For a second, Jorge felt like jumping up and down like a little girl who got the Barbie doll she had wanted. However, he restrained himself.

Julie wanted to know what it was, and eagerly Jorge began an explanation. For a second, it looked like Julie was going to say something, but Jorge dismissed it and continued babbling about his friends.

Jorge walked to his room and flattened out the jacket on his bed (by sitting on it a couple of times). Then, carefully, he slipped it on. He hurried downstairs to show Julie, but realized she wasn't there. Only his father was.

"Hey," he said, hating to ask his dad for an answer, even though it was an obvious question. "Where's Julie?"

"She just left," his dad said in a strained voice Jorge hadn't heard him use since two days before he had left Jorge and his mom.

"To…" Jorge waited for a reply.

"Julie hasn't told you about her dad yet, has she?" his dad continued in the same tired voice.

"No." Jorge felt as though he should sit down. He pulled out a chair and sat down next to his dad, waiting for the rest of the story.

Connor nervously ran his hands through his hair, which didn't take too long, seeing that he had almost none.

"Um… Julie… um… Jorge, Julie's dad is a severe alcoholic and he was... addicted to drugs. Julie and Kathy go to visit him about once a month and… well, Julie doesn't really like to talk about it."

"Yeah, nobody would want to talk about anything to you," Jorge muttered under his breath.

Connor didn't seem to hear him. "He used to hurt her, hit her… all the time."

Jorge felt a pang of pain through his side. No wonder why Julie always looked so scared and sad every time Connor looked at her.

It amazed him though. His father had left him, and he hated him. Julie's father had beaten her, and she was still open to love. She was still willing to visit him. She still cared about him.

This fact made Jorge feel small, uncaring, and insignificant. How could someone be that open? How could he be so resentful? Why was he so angry? Then he bristled.

Feeling sorry for Julie made him feel sorry for Kathy. And he didn't want to feel sorry for Kathy. Kathy deserved all she got coming for her. If she hadn't gotten engaged with Connor, there would still be a chance. There would still be a chance.

But in his heart, Jorge knew there never was a chance. There hadn't been a chance since his dad had turned his back and left. It was too late for promises now. He was never coming back.

Jorge tried to hide it, but he couldn't. Inside, he was still that lonely eleven-year-old, standing by the window and watching as the rain ran down the pane—waiting… waiting for his daddy to come home.

xxx

West walked angrily into his room and went moodily into the tiny bathroom that was supplied for each dorm. He pulled out his razor and coated his face with shaving cream, preparing to shave, which he really needed to do. (He'd skipped about two days).

Mad looked up. "Hey, what's wrong West?"

"Nothing," grumbled West. He'd seen Sarah with Paul again—Paul had asked her out. Again.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Paul had kissed her. West had seen it.

If only Sarah knew how he felt about her. Only he couldn't tell her. He couldn't.

West had always been good at expressing his feelings. Not as well as Jorge, but a whole lot better than Jason and Alek.

But when he was with Sarah, he felt himself at loss for words. She seemed so carefree, so beautiful. So light and airy and dizzy (in a good way).

Mad got up and stood at the door, which lay ajar. West could feel Mad studying the back of his head as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

"It's girl trouble, isn't it?" he asked in his deep voice. "Sarah, right?"

West looked over his shoulder, wiping a bunch of shaving cream onto his shirt as he did. "It's nothing."

"You like her. I can tell," Mad continued, looking back down at his sketchbook which he held in his hand. He continued his sketch of a bird. "And she likes Paul, right?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Don't hide your feelings. Just go tell her."

"How would you know?" West almost shouted. His emotions were building up and he felt like he was going to explode. He flung shaving cream all over Mad's face as he felt his razor swipe through the air.

"Trust me on this one," Mad said, not even flinching at the shaving cream which freckled his face. He calmly reached a finger up and wiped a spot of cream off. He stared at West straight in the eyes. "Trust me."

xxx

Jason was in the middle of swapping his toast for Pat's scrambled eggs when he felt someone pound his shoulder. Hard.

"What?" he said, turning around, afraid that it was Becky.

It wasn't. It was Frankie.

"Oh God," he muttered under his breath.

"Es-cah-lahn-tay," Frankie said, stressing every syllable of Jason's last name, "I heard you were talking to my girl again."

"I was not," Jason protested. "She was talking to me."

"Shut up," Frankie muttered, hitting Jason's back hard. "That's what they all say."

"I'm not lying," Jason yelped. "I'm telling the truth. Why would I lie about something like this?"

"Let's think," Frankie said sarcastically, resting his chin on one hand as he leaned on the table. "Maybe because she's beautiful. Maybe because she's cute. Huh? Did you ever think of that?"

Before Jason could say anything, (or Pat could say anything in Jason's defense), Frankie continued. "I've had this happen so many times. And I'm not letting anyone else get away with it. Ok, Escalante?"

"Fine," muttered Jason. "I didn't want to talk to her in the first place."

"I'm watching you Escalante," Frankie warned. "I'm watching you."

West,

I'm stupid for even hoping that you'll believe me. Honestly, I promise, I had nothing to do with that girl—Becky. Yeah, she already has a boyfriend. And no, it's not me. It's some weird guy named Frankie. He already gave me a huge bruise on my chin.

No, I'm not hiding anything from you. Come on West, you know I have better things to do than hide that stuff from you. Like skate maybe?

I guess you met Pat. He's pretty nice, isn't he? Yeah, I guess so.

Anyway, about Sarah. I can see why you like her. She doesn't seem to like you that way though… she thinks you're just a friend, in my opinion.

That Bren though. I think she does like you, West. Just the way she looks at you. Ok, fine, I admit she was looking at me most of the time. But she likes you. I can tell.

Yeah, I know. You're telling me to shut up. Ok, I will. Talked to Alek yesterday. Seems like he likes that Bay girl better. Oh yeah… Jorge called. Turns out that Julie's dad used to hit her. He feels bad now… sort of.

Yeah… that's about it. Hope this gets to you on time.

Jason

xxx

Alek pulled off his apron and stuffed it through his car window. He headed over to the movie rental shop, where he promised that he'd meet Bay.

Ever since her schizophrenia attack, Alek had felt overprotective towards the girl. He couldn't help it. Well, he didn't want her to get hurt or anything.

She was only fourteen, and only now had Alek realized the age difference. She was so much more vulnerable and easily hurt.

He found her with Jess again—they were talking amiably about an actor that Alek had never even heard of before. Jacob Smith or something. He had supposedly been in Cheaper by the Dozen—a movie that Alek hadn't even bothered to watch.

Bay headed off to get a Coke from a 7 Eleven next door, leaving Alek with Jess. She looked at him through her rimless glasses.

"Hey Alek," she said.

"Hey," he answered, shifting his feet back and forth. This was awkward. He pretended to be looking at a movie on the shelf.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Is there something wrong with Bay? She just seems sort of… different."

Alek was tempted to say, "Different? Look who's talking," but he swallowed up his comments and just glanced at her warily. "She's schizophrenic. And she has OCD."

"Oh. So I guess you're her friend?"

"Not really. I just let her hang around with me… sort of because I feel sorry for her."

"Oh. Yeah, ok."

But as Alek thought to himself, was it just because he felt sorry for her? Or did he actually care about her? Was she growing on him?

As Alek tried to push these thoughts out of his mind, one remained. His life was going to get a lot harder than it had been before.

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