AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Now that Trey is gone, will Vic go off the deep end?
I feel like I'm about to lose it myself. I wish Vic were here so I could talk with him, to tell him that we're both going through hell now that Trey's not here. I'm nervous to call him. What would I say?
When I turn around to face the casket, the constant dull ache in my back starts throbbing.
"It is with great sadness that we say good-bye to Trey Aaron Matthews, a young man who was the ultimate role model to his peers," the minister says as he stares down at the casket.
I dig my fingernails into my palms as I listen to the minister talk. My grief mixes with a heavy dose of anger and guilt.
"Trey's presence will always be felt by the ones who loved him," the minister continues.
But I don't feel his presence.
All I feel is empty and alone.
Chapter Twenty-seven
VICTOR
"Yo, wake up!"
I'm lying on Isa's couch, hoping to get some sleep. That's obviously not going to happen though as I open my eyes at half-mast and see her crouching down next to me. Her face is inches from mine.
"I'm tryin' to sleep," I tell her.
"You've been sleepin' for a week, Vic. Time to join the land of the living."
"No thanks." When I'm sleeping, my mind goes blank and my dark thoughts disappear for the moment. I don't want to join the land of the living, not while Trey lies six feet under.
She pinches my arm. "Get up," she orders.
I knock her hand away. "Ow! That hurt."
"Good," she says. "It was supposed to hurt."
I brush my arm off and sit up. Looking out the window, I realize it's not even light outside. "What time is it?"
"Ten. In the evening." She tosses a gray hoodie at me. "Here, put this on. I gotta run an errand, and you're comin' with me."
"I'll stay here."
"No. People die, Vic," she says as if it's something I didn't know. "Hell, I've seen too many friends die right in front of my eyes. You never get over it, but you have to move on."
"I don't want to move on. I like it right here, on your couch."
"You gonna lie on that couch forever?"
"Yeah."
"Just remember that we live on borrowed time, cuz," Isa says. "We're all gonna die at some point. Might as well live like a motherfuckin' beast and say 'fuck you' to death. Well, that's what Paco used to say, anyways."
"I'm not afraid to die," I tell her.
But the truth is, I'm fucking terrified because I killed my best friend. I'm surprised the cops aren't looking for me, wanting to lock me up forever. I deserve it. I mean, I wanted his life, his girl, his skills, and intelligence--everyone wanted to be associated with Trey Matthews.
Most students at Fremont High have been warned away from me by their parents. Nobody wants to be associated with me.
"I'll figure it out."
"Really, Vic? Because you've been sittin' on your ass for the past week, completely useless to me. Hell, Monika's been askin' about you every time she comes to work."
"She's been here?" I mean, I know she was supposed to start work, but I thought after what happened she would have ditched that plan.
Isa nods. "I keep tellin' her you want to be left alone. Last night she begged me to come up here so she could talk to you, but I told her you weren't up for it."
"I don't want to see anyone. Especially Monika." I don't tell Isa what I want to say--that it's my fault Monika's boyfriend is dead.
Isa stops and turns to me. "Two of the men I fell in love with died, Vic. You still have to live. Hell, it hurts like a bitch, but I'm doin' it every day." She touches my arm. "I get it."
"Nobody gets it," I tell her. "Not even you."
Chapter Twenty-eight
MONIKA
Mr. Miller's class has been tough to sit through, mainly because I can't stop focusing on the empty chair in front of the classroom--Vic's chair.
"Does anyone know where Victor Salazar is?" he asks.
"He's gone," Cassidy chimes in. "Nobody has heard from him." She shifts her focus to me. "Right, Monika?"
I shrug. Why is everyone looking at me? Okay, so I know where he's been hiding out. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone. I wish he'd talk to me though. I miss him.
Vic hasn't shown up at school for two weeks now. It's bad enough that Trey isn't here. Having Vic gone makes the pain worse. I don't know what to do.
I corner his sister Dani in the hallway before fifth period. She's talking to a bunch of girls.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask her.
She shrugs. "I guess."
The girl isn't easy to talk to. Dani looks as if running away from me is her number one goal. She motions for her friends to wait. "I was, um, wondering if you heard from Vic."
"My dad cut him off when he ran away," she says.
"Have you heard from him?"
She shakes her head. "Listen, Monika, I haven't heard from him and don't expect to. I gotta go."
Before I can ask her more questions, she walks past me to join her friends.
A few underclassmen pass me. "Did you hear that Vic was talking smack to Trey before that brutal tackle?" someone says in an excited, gossipy tone.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he did it on purpose. Trey was everything that Vic wasn't," someone else adds.
"You know what they say: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer," another chimes in, this time from one of the junior guys on the varsity football team.
"Are you okay?" Ms. Goldsmith, one of the biology teachers, asks me as I stare after the gossipers. "Do you need to go to the social worker?"
"No," I tell her, remembering the announcement about the social workers being on call and available every period for students who need to talk about their struggles with the death of a classmate.
The impact of Trey's death is huge in our small town, especially one as football-oriented as Fremont. Everyone is still buzzing about it. Of course, every time I walk near people and they realize I'm there, all of a sudden the talk stops. They treat me like I'm a leper, someone so fragile I'll break if I hear Trey's name.
"You look distraught, Monika. I think you should talk to someone. Come with me," Ms. Goldsmith says, urging me to follow her toward the school office.
"I'm fine," I tell her, wishing I could run in the opposite direction.
She pats me on the back. "I know you're going through a lot right now. You need to reach out for help, even if you don't want to."
Soon we're in the main office. Ms. Goldsmith whispers to the secretary, "This is Monika Fox, Trey's girlfriend."
The secretary nods as if she understands the urgency and rushes to the social worker's office. While I'm standing there waiting, Marissa Salazar walks into the room.
"Have you talked to Vic?" I ask her.
"No." She quickly turns around and walks out. So now I'm standing here more confused than ever.
Less than a minute later I'm ushered into Mrs. Bean's office.
Our social worker is a tall, redheaded woman with shoulder-length hair. She motions for me to sit on the chair opposite her desk. "I'm sorry about Trey," she says in a soft, high-pitched tone. "He was an exemplary student who was looked up to by his peers and the community. His passing has affected a lot of people."
I'm not sure Mrs. Bean actually talked to Trey, but we don't live in a big town and everyone kinda knows everyone at Fremont High.
She tilts her head to the side in a sympathetic gesture. "You dated him for a long time."
I nod. I'm not telling her the truth, that we'd broken up and he'd been cheating on me while doing drugs.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks. "I'm here to listen, to give advice, or just to be a shoulder to cry on."
