Dedicated to Dale

Hey guys, wondering what you all think about this piece I made in my Creative Writing class. It's long, so I hope you all get a chance to read it.


Dedicated to Dale
The dining room smelled of burnt chicken and undercooked mashed potatoes. My brothers and I sat around a grey table as my father brought in dinner. My dad was never much of a cook, and since my mom's death he looked at food as another routine in his life, something to do and be done with. He put the two plates on the table and told us to eat up. I looked at him as he sat down and it almost seemed as though he wasn't really there. Instead of him, I saw the darkness and exhaustion of that late February afternoon entering by the window near his chair.
I grabbed a chicken off the plate and picked at my mashed potatoes thoughtfully. My older brother Brett ate methodically, eyes glazed, while my kid brother Dale didn't even look at his plate as he grinded his teeth. It was a bad habit he had picked up over the last few years.
"So dad how was your day?" I asked.
"Not bad," he replied. "And yours?"
"Good, the Dodge keeps making noise though."
"You takin' it to the shop?"
"Yeah, soon."
He nodded. "Alright then."
I turned to my brother and asked, "What's wrong Dale, not hungry?" His plate was full but he watched me and my father speak with disinterest.
"I ate with my friends after school."
"How come they're never by the house?" I asked. He narrowed his eyes as he explained that Devon lived right near the school and all his friends always went to Devon's after classes were done. Dale was an eighth grader at Lincoln Elementary School, about ten minutes from Kennedy High School where I was a senior.
"Did I ever tell you I used to know Devon's brother?"
"Many times," Dale replied. The kid's brother had been one of the biggest dealers in Kennedy High when I was a sophomore and there had always been a party at his house.
"Why are you so curious about my friends anyway?" he asked, grinding his teeth as he waited for an answer. I glanced at him and he sat impassively, suspicion resting upon his brow. I was walking on rotten ice here. One misstep would mean a painful fall.
"Well you've been spending a lot of time with them lately and I just wanna know what kind of guys they are, that's all. You know you're allowed to have friends over."
Dale watched me as I spoke and I felt my resolve weaken beneath his expressionless grey eyes. Before he could answer, Brett stood up and grumbled his thanks as he marched to his room. Once he left, the only sound in the room was Dale's grinding. I stood up and grabbed the keys off the table.
"I'm going to the mechanic," I told nobody.
"OK make sure you drive carefully," my father replied. He was always telling us to drive careful or be careful or stay away from trouble. Dale looked at me in mute appeal. I left him and my father alone for dinner and headed out to the frigid night.

I drove home from the mechanic lost in my thoughts. They had changed the oil, checked the engine, replaced the old battery, and the Dodge was now ready for a far trip. Was I though?
I walked back into the house to the sight my dad fixed on the TV while he sat in our old grey couch.
"Hey dad," I said as I walked in.
He glanced at me for a moment and he looked very tired. "How's the car?" he asked, so quietly I could barely hear him over the blaring sitcom.
"They said it's good to go for a trip to California."
"Are you going to go?"
"Probably. Best chance I got right?"
"Yeah. You talk to Dale about it?" he asked hesitantly.
"Nope but I will soon." That promised to be the hardest part.
"Alright then."
I looked at him sitting there and I felt pity and anger combine to crush me. Why didn't he ever smile? Why did he have to make everyone feel bad?
"So….everything good at work?" I asked.
"Yep."
I waited for him to say something else, anything, but he continued to watch his TV. On it, a group of good-looking and hilarious people dealt with real life problems like dating and their waistlines. I walked quietly upstairs.

I stepped into Dale's room. He sat there playing video games on some old TV.
"What is this, Mario Kart? In my day I was the master, I'll destroy you," I warned him with a smile. He pretended to laugh.
"Your skills have faded old man. I'm the new generation."
"You'll pay dearly for that," I said as I picked up a controller. Beams of bright lights from the game lit the dark room around us and I decided now was a good time as ever.
"I told you I got a job offer?" I offered hesitantly. My little brother's eyes moved from the TV for a second to pierce through me and then went back to watching the game.
"No. Dad said something about it though. Where is it?" he asked, voice strained.
"California. I'd probably take the Dodge. Come back every few weeks or months. No big deal." I smiled for reassurance but my brother's face didn't change.
"What kind of job?"
"Computer programming. Apparently Mr. Guarden told some friends he knew at InTech that I was one of the best programmers he knew. They made me a shitty deal but after a few months, who knows? Maybe they'll see how good my work is and give me a sweet bonus or even a promotion," I told him with a smile. "Then I'll take you out to dinner whenever I come home. Maybe help you get a car when you're older? Unless you want my Dodge of course?"
He didn't seem to notice the joke. "When you leaving?" he asked, pausing the game. The sudden loss of light brought me back from my daydreams.
"Well I'm not even sure if I'm going yet. I wanted to know how you felt."
All of a sudden, Dale's put the controller down and looked at me intently. "Jake please don't go," he begged. "Don't leave me alone with Brett and dad. I don't think I could handle that."
"I told you if you don't want me to go, I won't go. You're my brother and I care about you."
"I want you to stay."
"Then I'll stay, simple as that."
Dale came close to smiling and for a moment I saw my old brother. "Thanks Jake," he said, picking up his controller.
Thanks Jake. Easy for you to say kid, they're not your dreams. I shook my head and asked, "So how's that girl Rachel you were telling me about?" At the mention of the name, Dale began to grind his teeth again.
"Well she acts all nice with me flirting and everything, next thing I know she's with like five guys hugging them and smiling and crap. I really don't know what to do," he told me dejectedly.
He looked so hopeless I really felt bad.
"Why don't you get her alone for a little? Try asking her to see a movie for Friday night. I'll drive," I offered.
Dale hesitated. "You think that would work?"
"If she goes for it, yeah, try it. What's the worst that could happen?"
He nodded his approval. "I'll give it a shot. So you'll take me tomorrow night?"
"Yeah it's a date. On the way there I'll complain about how god damn annoying it is to keep driving you around with all these girls," I said with a wink. My kid brother shot me with a genuine smile, the first I had seen it in a while. It was like a passing image, a tired memory and then he was back to business.
"Also, I need some money. My friends keep having to pay for me because I never have any…Can I borrow some for the movie also?"
I tried to look as bored as possible.
"What do your friends keep buying for you?" I asked uninterested. He shrugged.
"Oh just stuff. Food uh…money for the movies. You know, the usual things."
I looked at him intently but he turned away from my gaze. I didn't have too much money of my own because I had quit my job about a week and a half before, thinking I would be leaving to California soon. But I reached into my pocket and felt some leftover bills from my trip to the mechanic. I pulled out a messy clump of green and handed Dale the first twenty I saw.
"Don't waste it on anything stupid," I warned.
"Yeah yeah I know," he said reaching for it. I didn't want to give it him the twenty. I should have known what it was for first, made sure he didn't do something stupid with it. I shouldn't have given it to him.
He grabbed the twenty out of my hand and we went back to playing Mario.

By the time I got back in my room, my head was swimming with the images of the bright game, the greens and the reds and the blues and the yellows and I fell into my chair. I should've started my homework, since it looked like I was going to stay after all.
Instead I fumbled for my computer programming book, C++ for the Advanced User and read it slowly, savoring. That damn book made me feel good. Computer code did that to me, it was just so logical. I start with an empty blank computer screen and I just start writing strange words, line after line and soon enough there was a page full of all these strange words but they had meaning. The words gave commands but I controlled the words and if I didn't like something, I changed it. I could lose myself at my computer for hours on end just writing code and changing things I didn't like.
So there I was reading my C++ book when without warning my brother shoved my door open, sending it crashing against the wall. It sounded like a wave breaking against the shore. Brett walked in breathing hard and looked around uneasily.
"Hey Jake do me a favor," he told me.
Brett was very tall. He had coal hair that seemed to drink the light around it and thick brows that always seemed to be raised. His eyes were suspicious and dark and they were always questioning or unhappy about something. The violence that was so fundamentally part of Brett was gone though. He had come back a few months ago a different person.
"What is it? Money?" I asked already knowing the answer.
"Yeah bad bet by me, the Nets got lucky. ******* Jason Kidd," he said shaking his head furiously. "You know I'll pay you back. The kid's gonna be here soon, can I just get like a hundred?"
I considered telling him no, but he was still my brother and family stuck together. I reached into my bookcase and pulled out The Myth of Atlas. Though I was never much of a reader, mythology interested me and Atlas especially. I kept my money in the back of the book, everything I had taken out of the bank to get ready for California. I counted five twenties and handed it to him, sighing. My brothers loved to take but hated to give.
"Thanks," Brett said thanklessly.
"You will get it back to me, right?"
"Yeah of course just gimme a few days," he said walking to the door. "You still going to California?" he asked, hand on the doorknob.
"Doesn't look like it. Probably just finish out the year here."
"Alright then." The door closed loudly behind him and a cheerless silence followed.
My mom had watched the whole thing. I kept an old picture of me, Brett and her on my desk right by my books. My dad had taken the picture when we had gone skiing up in Colorado for Brett's thirteenth birthday. I had been eight but Dale was two at the time so we had left him with my grandparents. The picture was shot on top of the snowy Vail Mountain with my mom hugging Brett and I as the three of us grinned. Her blonde hair poked through her bright red hat and her green eyes seemed to be laughing at some dumb joke Brett had made. In the background, the Rocky Mountains towered over the world and we seemed to tower over the Rockies. Snow was falling everywhere and the golden glow from the late afternoon winter sun gave the picture an otherworldly feel.
I smiled, remembering the day. Then I turned back to my computer book and lost myself in the pages.

After school the next day I lounged around the house in boxers, just writing some code. It was Friday and everything was good. I would drive my little brother around on his little date and maybe Dale would stop being so moody all the time. I would be here for Dale, like a good brother.
As I was typing away on my Dell, my phone buzzed rudely. I hate being interrupted when I write code. It kills the inspiration.
"Hello?" I asked exasperated.
"Jakeee, what's up bro?"
"Hey, Alex." Alex was one of my few good friends from my class. He loved to party and might not be the most restrained of guys, like the time he streaked through the football when he lost a bet, but he had always been good to me.
"Not much I'm having a bunch of people over at like ten. Pop a few beers, smoke a few blunts-you down?"
"Uhh…I kinda promised my little bro-"
"Talia's gonna come."
"She is?"
"Yep," he told me. "She asked if you were going."
"Did she really? That's interesting."
"Very interesting. Be here about ten?"
"I guess I can come by for a little," I decided. "After I drop my brother off at the movies though."
"Yeah dude, do what you gotta do. Don't be here exactly at ten though, make her sweat a bit, ya know?"
"Wise words."
Alex laughed, a hearty guffaw that always made me feel absurdly loyal.
"Haha, just be here," he said. "I got other people to call, I'll talk to you later."
"Later Alex," I said, hanging up and leaning back in my grey chair.
So Talia had asked about me. Interesting. She had certainly never been shy about her feelings as I had discovered to my surprise-and glee-when she asked me to accompany her home junior year from a party and started making out with me in the back of Alex's grey Ford Explorer, while he laughed in the front. OK, maybe a little more then making out but I was pretty drunk at the time. Talia wasn't a girl most guys said no to, especially if she asked you to come home with her. I never got inside her house because her father had been waiting up for her, but I wasn't too disappointed. It wasn't that I had felt bad…but I didn't feel right about it either. It all went back to that damn poem.
In ninth grade, our English teacher Mrs. Lovett had made all of us write a poem, any poem, on anything we'd like, and then read it in class. The Goth kids wrote about things like "existential angst," and used as many synonyms of the word "pain," they could find. The football players reduced the bustle and motion of a football game to a mindlessly-worded prattle on the joys of victory. And of course Alex had a thinly-disguised metaphor about "My Huge Stick," which he claimed was really about this large stick he had in his house that had inspired him to write. But it's Talia's poem that stuck out for me.
It was about some noble knight that had reluctantly gone to war in the Middle Ages to bring down an evil king but promises his wife-to-be that he would return soon and they would have a beautiful marriage. The wife swears to wait of course. The man is wounded in battle though, and the only thing that keeps him alive is the image of his lover. Kids were giggling quietly amongst themselves by this point. Talia continued though, unfazed, to tell of how the knight strikes down the evil king in his castle and his weary journey home to his love. Pretty much everyone in our class was rolling their eyes and the Goth kids kept sticking their freshly manicured black fingernails down their throats.
Finally the hero makes it home, scoops his wife's slim body up in his strong arms and tells her that he loves her. She tells him she's overjoyed to have her knight in shining armor back and they passionately kiss. The class was in hysterics. Alex was laughing so hard he banged his head on his table and even Mrs. Lovett had hints of a grin growing on her face. Talia looked at all of us with disdain and walked to her desk, head held high. I wasn't laughing though. I had never really talked to Talia but I leaned over and said, "That was pretty nice." She stared at me in suspicion, searching for sarcasm. When she realized I was being serious, she smiled.
It's sad. The year after she wrote that poem her parents divorced.

Driving Dale to the movies was definitely enjoyable. His "date" Rachel just prattled on her cell phone the whole time and Dale grinded his teeth so loudly I was worried he would wear his enamel away. I dropped them off at the theater and promised to be back in two hours. It was ten-fifteen. Perfect, I thought and headed to the party.
Alex's house was light grey and its pillars made it seem a castle. I parked and walked nervously while the street lights illuminated the dark around me in a light red. Light snowflakes fell silently against the black of the night. I shivered.
I stepped in the house and saw Alex sucking on a cigarette and chatting with some younger girl. He shot me a winning smile and motioned for me to come over. I came and Alex tilted his head toward the girl.
"Jake this is Elizabeth. She's a sophomore and just broke up with her boyfriend in college. Terrible, huh?"
"Uh, yeah sorry to hear that Elizabeth."
"Yeah, it sucks," she replied while staring at Alex. His light blonde hair fell to his shoulders and he flicked his cigarette away and smiled again.
"Come on Liz, let's go talk upstairs," he said, winking at her. He glanced back at me saying, "Talia came in and asked for you. I told her you'd be here soon, go find her dude. You're in charge while I'm gone. Make sure Danny doesn't try to burn my house down again," he added grinning.
I nodded and they walked upstairs, whispering in each other's ear. I felt awful all of a sudden. I grabbed the nearest cup of beer I could find and began to just empty a nearby vodka bottle into it, watching the muddled brown and pure white combine sadly. Drinking was a bad habit from my sophomore year. I took a swig from the cup and almost choked. The stuff tasted like mud and blood. I took another sip, a bigger one this time. Then I took a walk.
I saw many guys I didn't like, kids with oversized leather jackets and cruel laughs. Guys who needed to control others, and lived and died by their perceived power. They reminded me of Brett. Alex was probably no different than them but after my mother had died he had been there, something I didn't forget. He cared when nobody else did and I've been absurdly loyal since. Or maybe I'm just an idiot.
"Jake!" I heard someone yell from behind me.
I turned and there she was, talking to some football player. She whispered something in his ear, he nodded silently and she stumbled over to me. Talia always seemed to be dressed well no matter where I saw her. Tonight she wore a green tank top with grey-blue jeans that matched her eyes, the color of the sky after a sudden rain. Her tanned arms held a near empty cup of beer and she was drunkenly swaying like a palm tree in a hurricane. Everyone thought she had gotten real pretty over the years.
"Talia, wow how have you been? I haven't spoken to you in awhile," I said, taking only a tiny sip from my drink. I was driving after all.
"Yeah it's been too damn long Jake. I've been OK I guess," she told me pained. "How about you? I heard you were leaving to California."
"Well I'm probably just gonna finish senior year up and then go to Cali in the summer, or next year or something. Got a lot of things I still need to take care of, you know?" I said taking another sip.
She nodded and edged closer to me. "I just found out your brother got out. How is he?"
"He's alright," I answered cautiously. "He's been out for a couple of months now."
"Well that's good to hear. Are you guys OK?"
"We get along."
She looked at me hesitantly. "Do you want to leave Deerfield?"
"No, I'm happy here," I lied.
She looked at me unconvinced. Her concern for me in that moment touched me. Suddenly in that second, I felt a connection with her like nothing I'd ever experienced. It would be fleeting, but for that instant I thought she knew. Her parents had divorced, my mother had died, and Brett had been taken away and it seemed that through our sorrow, we could connect. She knew my pain and I felt hers and we shared in our anguish and it made me feel strangely peaceful as I stood there, getting drunker and drunker. I wanted to be her knight in shining armor, the one she had asked for, corny as that sounds. I looked up at her, waiting for her to confirm my feelings-to smile, to laugh ecstatically, to hug me, or maybe even to break down and cry. But she only stared at me blankly. Finally she said, "So uh…you wanna go upstairs?"
Idiot, she didn't even feel it. All of a sudden, my stupid moment of empathy at some stupid party made me feel worse than ever. How do I get such dumb conclusions from simple expressions? Maybe it's to make myself feel better, like a defensive reaction. The understanding I'd imagined between Talia and I was a sham, I realized as I felt myself get drunker and lonelier by the minute. It was all I could do to nod, and as we walked upstairs, strangers with gelled hair flashed congratulatory smiles. I returned their smiles with my own, stinking of sarcasm and exaggerated joy but they couldn't smell it, based on the blank looks I received.

We sat down on a grey bed. Well, I sat on it…Talia kind of just fell on it. I think it was Alex's parent's bed but that was OK since they weren't really ever home. She was very drunk by this point but I was catching up. She lay right near me and grabbed my cup, taking a long chug and smiling to me as she handed it back. I looked at her smile and finished the rest of the cup in one long swig and set it on the bedside right near a wedding picture of Alex's parents. Talia came and sat on my lap and looked at me. Her eyes hurt to see, like staring at the sun for to long.
"I think you're really cute Jake."
"I hope so."
She giggled and then the alcohol got to me. Things got hazy and the room began to move in unfamiliar directions. All of a sudden Talia was in my lap, laughing and moaning and she fell over into the middle of the bed, hounded by me. Lips touched and hands met. My thoughts felt like they were swimming through a storm in my head, slowed and drowned by the raging waves. Everything was happening so quick…
"I love you Jake," she gasped.
I love you Jake, I heard another women say.
What the ****? Who had said that? I looked around the dark room and completely forgot how I had gotten here. What the hell was going on?
"Is everything OK?" Talia asked suddenly.
I came back to my body suddenly and glanced down in befuddlement to realize Talia was below me, naked and worried. I felt ashamed of her nakedness, thinking of those god damn knights in their shiny armor.
"Yeah…I'm just pretty drunk. I'm sorry," I stammered.
"Do you want to keep going?"
"Of course I do, I just zoned out for a minute," I said, and lightly kissed her to stop her staring.
We finished what we had started and then I laid there feeling ashamed, thinking about my mom all alone in my room, stuck in that picture. Why can't I be normal too, though? Why do I have to feel bad every time I try to do regular things?
I love you Jake, I heard in my head again.
"Oh God, please stop," I muttered. I turned over to speak to Talia, to say something, anything but she was fast asleep. She looked so wistful as she lay there, lit up by the silver rays of the moon that I couldn't wake her. She wouldn't understand anyway, what it meant to feel guilty to do things, what it meant to feel guilty over being alive.
So this is what it felt like to be alone, I realized. I felt like my insides had been taken out, organ by organ and my blood leaked out until I was hollow as a barrel. I looked over at Talia lying there, betrayed innocence. Then, I lay back in the bed and watched the darkness.

I saw strange drunk visions as I lay there in Alex's parent's bed. Murky images that played against the dark as I watched with my eyes closed. I watched two phantoms walk side by side, only to stop at a fork in the road. One path led to pain, I just knew it and the other path led to a deep darkness, stretching further and further and darker and darker until I could see no more. They split without a goodbye.
Suddenly the dark disappeared and I was under a sweltering and blinding sun. A man with a sword and shield lay alone in a pool of blood, the red stains ruining his white cloak. There was nobody anywhere near him. His beard was covered with grime and dried dirt and he cried out a woman's name, but nobody heard.
Then, just as rapidly as he had come, the man disappeared and now I stood on a cold white peak. I wasn't alone, however. A figure watched in the distance, surveying my appearance with an indifferent interest. I flexed my fingers to see if I was truly here, and began to move closer to the figure but the nearer I got, the further it moved. It glowed, I could see. Bright white light was coming off of it and combined with the snow falling harshly around me, made an eerie confluence of white everywhere.
"Please," I begged the figure. "Please come back!"
It turned back but didn't answer. It stopped though and stood, waiting…watching. Its features were coming into clearer focus and I thought I could make out a face. Nearer I moved until I felt blinded by the shimmering light. So close. Somehow I knew getting to this…thing was important for a reason I couldn't understand.
I closed in and my eyes burned from the brightness.
"Hello?" I asked it, forcing the word out.
The figure didn't answer, as I knew it wouldn't, but it stuck its glowing hand out. I reached for it with restrained eagerness. If I could just grab it…everything would be OK. As long as that hand held me up, I realized in a daze, the world wouldn't be able to pull me down. I reached slowly, afraid to scare it away. The figure stood wordlessly, snow swirling around and it watched me with…with…was it pity I saw in those light green eyes? Or something else? I was almost there, hands almost touching, and I begged it not to move but my voice was lost over the deafening blizzard. As our fingers were about to touch, the figure suddenly looked in my eyes and said quietly, "I love you Jake," and the exhalation of my shock frosted in the bitter air. Then she disappeared, her and her sorrowful glow.
"Nooo!" I cried out, alone on the empty peak.
I glanced everywhere but she was gone. I looked up and the sky was bright blue with the blood red of the sun stabbing mournfully. I shuddered and the snow froze painfully in my eyes.

I awoke to a cold, dark room. My brain felt like it had just run a mental marathon. Talia slept quietly, her stomach rising up and down gently. I felt sick all of a sudden. The only light in the room came from an alarm clock with 2:15 gleaming in bright green. 2:15…it was late. What was I forgetting? Dale! I had promised to pick him up at twelve!
"****!"
Talia looked over, eyebrows raised and eyes half closed.
"I forgot about my brother. ****-I gotta go."
She nodded and her head lapsed back into the pillow. Talia's mascara had run down her face and it seemed as though she had been crying thick black tears.
I glanced at my cell phone. Three missed calls from Dale and one from Brett. I hurried downstairs and saw there was still a fairly large group of kids roaming the house, drinking and smoking. Everyone was stumbling around and laughing a little too loudly. Empty and broken red cups lay scattered everywhere and amongst them a girl with bright blonde hair sat by herself, crying in the corner. Everyone ignored her. I left that house relieved as hell. I really wanted to just get in my car and leave to California, this night, this moment. I had no idea how much more of this I could take.
I walked to my Dodge, slipping on the newly fallen snow. This party had been a terrible idea, I thought as I attempted to get my key in the car door. It took repeated tries and I realized I was drunker then I thought.
I drove through the empty streets of my town, lights off in the houses as the occupants slept satisfied in their soft beds. I swayed a little on the road but luckily there were no cops. I was going to get back home and just sleep until I could sleep no more. My eyes kept drifting closed and I started seeing Dale until I fought them open. The street lamps passed by like light red sentinels, lighting the dark for the lost and the hopeless.
I stumbled through my house noisily, a few dim lights my only guide. I walked up to Dale's room, planning my apology in my head. The snow had packed Middle Street with traffic, my phone had died, and by the time I had gotten to the theater Dale was gone. Or even better, the Dodge had broken down. You would believe it to too if you ever saw my Dodge. I pushed his door open lightly.
"Dale?" I whispered tentatively.
I flicked the light on. He wasn't there. I scrambled to the bathroom. Empty. Dale wasn't in the house. I looked at my cell phone. It was 2:30 and my thirteen-year-old brother still wasn't home. I called him on my cell. Buzzz...Buzzz… If he didn't pick up, I decided I'd kill him tomorrow. Buzzz…Buzzz… The phone's ring's mixed real well with my thumping headache. Finally after what seem like an eternity, a slurred voice answered.
"Hell-oh?
"Dale where the **** are you?!" I yelled. The cry broke the silence of the house.
"I am…I'm fine. Leaf me alone Jake." He stuttered. He seemed confused.
"I'll leave you alone, just tell me where you are kid."
"I am sleeping at Devon. I'll come home two-more-oh," he said, emphasizing his syllables. "Thank you for picking me up," he added, before he hung up.
I sat quietly with the phone to my ear as an anonymous voice begged, please hang up…please hang up…please hang up…
I hung up and sighed. Looks like this long night was about to get longer.

I had been to Devon's house quite a few times as a sophomore to see his brother, so I remembered where it was. It was a quick drive away but at the moment I wished it was further just so I could clear my head up a bit. I felt like a giant was squeezing my stomach and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the road.
The house came up quicker then I expected, pleasant as getting to the dentist a few minutes early. I could see lights on everywhere but Devon's parents weren't home, by virtue of the empty driveway. They weren't home when I used to go there either.
I pulled in the driveway and waited a moment, gathering my thoughts. I had hoped I would never have come to this house again. Now I was coming for my little brother. Life certainly had an eerily ironic streak to it.
I turned off the engine and waited in the car, letting little Devon sweat it out and think his mommy and daddy had come home early to ruin his party. I remembered Devon when I used to come here two years ago. Trey Molman, his older brother and Kennedy High School's favorite drug dealer, had always allowed him to hang out with the older kids when they came to the house, and all the sixteen-year-old-girls had fallen quite in love with Devon. They would tell him how cute he was and giggle "Awww," as he gave them hugs with a devilish, but adorable smile on his face. I hated the little ****. During parties, he would stand near Trey's friends and join in their torment of the freshmen, repeating what the older kids said and laughing at their jokes as though he was one of the guys. Though most freshmen were almost twice Devon's size, they would listen to him and bite their lips and keep silent, especially if Trey was coked out, which he usually was.
I shook my head and stepped out the Dodge. The Molman house was how I remembered, but it seemed…stagnant. The grass on the front lawn had an almost **** brown color and there were still only one window. The entire front of the massive house only had a single tiny window. This was a house of secrets.
I rang the bell and heard commotion in the house, yells and worried cries and then an eye covered the front door's peephole, turning the hole from white to black
"Trey's not here!" the voice on the other end of the door called out.
"I'm not here for Trey, I'm here for Dale."
Silence. Then the door slowly opened and Devon Molman stood there looking back at me, casual insolence reflecting in his eyes. He must have been designed to break young girl's hearts, with his sharp cheek bones and insolent smile. He was the arrogance of youth personified.
"Get me my brother now," I said.
"Your brother?" he asked casually.
"Dale."
He looked back at me hesitant for a minute. "I think he's slee-"
"I'm giving you one minute to get him. Then I'm coming inside."
"Do you know who my brother is? You don't wanna **** with me," he warned.
"Of course I know who your brother is, everyone knows Trey. I also know that he emancipated himself last year and now lives in New York, probably selling coke to bums," I paused. "A great role model but I don't think he'll be able to help you. You got one minute."
He stared at me wordlessly. Then he turned and swaggered angrily back into the house.
Dale wasn't going to like this, I realized bitterly. I should have just gone to sleep. Or even better, I should have gone to California.
I stood out there and thought about Talia. When everybody used to come to this house in tenth grade I would watch her giggle and flash seductive smiles to every older guy with a car and blue eyes. It used to bother me. Lots of things used to bother me back then.
I shrugged hopelessly and waited out the minute, watching the snow swirling around me. After a minute, Devon still hadn't come back. I cracked my knuckles and stepped into the house.
The damn place was brighter then a Christmas tree. I squinted as sharp orange light hit me. Devon must have turned on every damn light, I thought as I began too look for Dale.
I stopped when I heard the unmistakable sounds of eighth graders, the laughter and yelling as they joked, or cried out. The excitement of their voices was unmistakable; parties, flirting, sex…all of it was so new and thrilling that it seemed the world was opening before them, every day bringing something new, some unknown wonder or terror. I could hear it in the way they spoke because I had been that way too when I was their age. My family, my pack, had been intact then and I would sit and dream hazy dreams of the exhilaration to come in life, fragments of the glowing adventure that waited for me once I was older.
One time, Brett had been forced to take me to the beach at night with his girlfriend, sometime in the spring when I had been about eleven; doe-eyed and excited to be with my big brother. The stars were bright and the ebony waves lapped gently by the sand. It was so beautiful and romantic that it tore my little eleven-year-old heart. Brett and his girl had floated and disappeared into the night, and I watched the bright silver of the moon reflect on the dark water and dreamt of the day when the world would one day be mine.
My mother died not long after that, in some sterile hospital bed. When her green eyes closed forever, I was jealous of Brett. I still am. At least he had been able to experience life, to love and have no other worries. On that day, I realized I would never know how that felt.
Snap out of it, Jake, I told myself. Remember why you're here. Not to mope around, but for a reason. I headed to the living room.
I stepped in and faced a sea of confused faces. The kids looked at me suspiciously, like I was some intruder from the future. Boys glared at me sullen and defiant, and their girls watched me with guarded expressions from the laps of their boyfriends and new loves. Many kids lay on the floor and couches passed out, unable to handle the liquor from the empty bottles that lay forgotten. Neither Dale nor Devon were in the room and I saw no reason to embarrass Dale any further by asking where he would be, so I walked out and heard agitated mutterings at my exit.
That was comfortable, I thought as I searched the house. Each step I took from the living room seemed to bring me deeper and deeper into bitter memories. Where was Dale? My pace quickened as the search revealed nothing but empty rooms and an unnerving sense of hopelessness waiting in every corner.
"Dale!" I barked hopelessly. "Dale, where are you?!" I stopped walking and hoped for a response, pricking my ears. There was no answer, just a stare from the painting on the wall of Devon's father. The artist had used bright colors and the father was attempting to smile, but his face sagged and his charcoal eyes were like two hollow onyx jewels, pretty but hollow. He was hiding something behind those eyes. It looked like someone had painted him after he had finished crying.
I continued looking around and came upon Trey's room. There's no way Dale would be here; Devon would never allow anyone to sleep in Trey's room. Devon just about shone whenever Trey spoke to him, and he loved to brag about his brother to people at the parties. Still though…I should check the room… Just in case I told myself, pushing Trey's door open slowly.
Empty. The only faces in here were on the posters of barely clad blondes lined near the wide bed, their alluring smiles hiding something. Was it regret? Did their families know they were here on Trey's old white wall, tacked on for his amusement? Would they care?
I looked around the room, taking it all in. His bookshelves were stacked with untouched school texts and I saw a messy clutter of pictures on the bed stand. It seemed as though no one had been in the room since Trey had left.
I grabbed the photos off the stand and sat on the bed. I leafed through them slowly, pictures of Trey with pretty girls I had never known, their faces and smiles completely anonymous to me. I had seen some when I used to come years ago, but I never really knew any of them. They were the type of girls who passed from party to party and boy to boy, searching for some elusive happiness that always seemed right within their grasp. There were always more waiting, more girls for the Trey's of the world to take advantage of with sweet whispers and overused promises. I sighed. It was inevitable as snow in this frozen town.
Suddenly, my picture browsing revealed a familiar face. I brought the picture closer and there was Talia smiling pensively, her arms wrapped around Trey's stomach while he smirked. I could almost swear he was winking slyly at the camera. It looked like the picture was shot in the living room, but I wasn't sure because the flash was so crappy, turning everything around the pair murky. It must have been taken after Talia's parents divorced though; that's when she started coming to Trey's a lot. I stared at the picture, stared at that smirk. Nobody could ever say Trey lacked confidence.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Devon's voice cracked across the room. He stood in the doorway, chest sticking out awkwardly and arms held up, looking like he wanted to hit something. He was breathing rapidly through his nostrils.
He had caught me by surprise so I had no time to think of a reply. "Uhh…looking at pictures?"
"You said you were coming to pick up Dale, not to look at my brother's pictures. What the hell do you think you're doing?" he repeated. "If you don't get out of my house, I'll call the cops."
I laughed in his face. "I'm sure the police would be delighted to see all the underage drinking you guys are doing here. I bet your parents would be even more pleased," I said, and his chest lowered a little. "Don't worry little Molman, I used to know your brother. I just wanted to see some old pictures, that's all."
His eyes flickered with interest. "You knew my brother?"
No, I wanted to say. No one ever really knew Trey. Instead I said, "I used to spend some time with him, yeah, a few years ago. You could say I knew him."
"He should be coming back soon. He called and said he's coming back soon."
Sure he is. "What a great guy. Now take me to my brother, if you don't mind."
He nodded and led me to a brightly-lit room where a group of worried-looking boys stood talking in low voices. The room reeked of marijuana and other darker things, a choking scent that stung the eyes and slowed the brain. My little brother lay in a tiny bed, and as I came in the kids in the room reeled back from my presence.
"What the **** happened to him?" I asked them.
They shot glances at each other with their heads down, unsure what to say. One kid had been biting his lip since I had walked in. I stepped over to him and grabbed him by the shoulder.
"What the **** happened to him?" I repeated.
"He…He uh, just started drinking, and smoking and he just felt sick and we took him here. I…we didn't know what to do, he's OK though, he's better now, I swear Trey."
"Trey…did you call me Trey?" He lifted his head to me, eyes mixed with fear and doubt.
"Aren't you Devon's brother?"
Trey? Me? Talia's face flashed into my mind. Was the kid right?
Devon, who had been listening by the doorway, stepped into the smoky room.
"No, that's Dale's brother, retard," he spat at his trembling friend. Then Devon turned to me saying, "You got your brother, now get out of my house."
Talia disappeared from my mind and I walked over to Dale as he lay there, lost in his dreams.
"Dale? Dale?" I said, shaking him lightly by the shoulders. "Dale it's me."
He opened his eyes painfully and gazed at me, clearly exhausted.
"Jake…Jake, why are you here?"
"I'm here for you, Dale. I'm here to take you home."
"No, no. It's OK….I wanna be here…."
I shook him again, less gently this time. "Dale, we're going home. Now, kid."
He groaned loudly, and began to shake his head wildly. "Why are you doing this? Why…Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"Because you're my brother."
Dale quieted. Still shaking his head, he rose ponderously, muttering silent curses under his breath. "Now you come get me. Now?" he laughed bitterly. "Jake, did I ever tell you that you had a great sense of timing?"

The car ride home was silent, with Dale sitting back in the Dodge cushion, watching the passing streets. I drove and wondered what thoughts were going through his head. Maybe he wondered the same about me.
"So you decided to drink tonight?" I asked.
He glanced at me and swallowed. "I…All my friends did, it was just for fun."
"So was smoking weed and whatever else you did?"
To his credit, he didn't try to deny it. "I'm not a little kid!"
"No," I agreed. "You're not."
He glared, grey eyes blazing and began to grind his teeth, to angry to speak. Finally he said, "And where were you, Jake? Too busy to come pick me up? It's OK, me and Rachel just had to wait outside, freezing, for her dad to come get us. Do you know how stupid I felt?"
"I'm sorry about that, I really am. Something…happened, something came up I made a mistake, but that doesn't mean you can go around getting drunk and high. You're only thirteen, Dale!"
"At least that you remember."
I had nothing to say to that, and Dale looked back at the dim streets. An oppressive silence covered the car so thickly it made my head swim. I'm losing him, I realized. I'm losing my brother.
"I didn't come get you to be an asshole and to embarrass you," I said, staring straight ahead at the road. "I did it because I'm worried about you. Is this the first time you've done things like this?"
He cleared his throat, perhaps preparing to say something. But when I looked over at him, he was quiet. But his eyes spoke. They cried and begged for forgiveness. They broke my heart, those eyes. Dale never answered my question, but that was OK. There was no need to say anything. We drove home to the sounds of the windshield wipers as they shoved the brittle snow from my view.

I don't even remember getting home that night. I was so tired, and hung-over that I was startled to see I had pulled into my driveway. Dale stepped out quietly, and I followed him to the front door, the snow on the ground making a soft plop every step I took.
Once we got in the house, I drowsily told Dale we'd talk tomorrow, to which he replied, "There's nothing to talk about."
I sighed. My glance at the microwave clock told me it was almost three. When I blinked I had to force my eyes to reopen, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than just go to my warm, sweet bed. To just sleep, sleep until I would wake up and Dale would beg me to go play some video games and the only drug he'd know about was Tylenol.
But, I couldn't just go sleep. The wheels had begun to turn and if I ignored things tonight, I might not have a chance to speak with Dale tomorrow. The problem would grow slowly and insidiously, sucking the life out of Dale, day by day and night by night until it would be too late for anyone to help him. It's one of the worst things you can have happen to you. I knew this all too well.
"Let's sit for a second, Dale."
"I really just wanna go to b-"
"Just for a minute."
He glanced at me warily, and rolling his eyes, sat by the dining room table where we had eaten dinner last night. He looked at me like a student preparing to be disciplined by his teacher. Not a good start, I realized.
"I'm not here to punish you or to get you in trouble. I just wanna talk."
"So let's talk."
I sat down next to him. "I never even saw weed until I was in tenth grade. You're only thirteen, Dale!" I said, pausing for effect. "You'll grow up soon enough I promise you and it won't be all it's hyped up to be, I promise that too. Why are you rushing, kid?"
"It's not such a big deal, all my friends smoke and drink and a lot of them are younger then me. Devon says-"
"I don't wanna hear about Devon! Did Devon ever say that his older brother used to sell coke, until his parents kicked him out of the house?" I snapped. Dale opened his mouth to say something but closed it doubtfully. "No, he didn't, did he? He must have forgotten that little detail. Devon cares about himself and himself only-it must run in the family. Trey had a way of convincing people to do what he wanted, and he was very good at it." A buried memory cut me suddenly like a dagger, but I forced it away. Focus, I told myself.
"I'm not gonna sit here and tell you who you can or can't be friends with. I can just warn you and hope you're smart enough to do the right thing. But I can tell you that I don't ever want to see you high, or drunk, or anything, off of any drug again. I made you a promise to stay home and give up California, now you've got too make me a promise too. Don't ever do this **** again." I implored. "A promise for a promise."
Dale watched me silently, his stony face revealing nothing. "Promise for a promise," he echoed.
I nodded and Dale looked towards the window, where the night was still. He was quiet for a few seconds.
"I tried to kiss her on the lips tonight," he said finally. .
I was confused. "Kiss who on the lips?"
"Rachel, the girl you drove. At the end of the movie, during a romantic scene. I'd been thinking about the whole movie, I could barely concentrate."
"So what happened?"
"Well I was just like, it's now or never. I leaned over and we kissed for a second and then she pulled back. She told me she didn't feel that way," he said and laughed bitterly. "The way she said it…like I was just some little kid." He threw his hands up and looked at me. "If she doesn't like me, why'd she come to the movie?"
Because some girls just need the attention. Some people just love to be loved, kid, and that's all they want. But on a night like this Dale needed a big brother, not more pessimism.
"She's probably just not ready for that yet. Maybe you rushed it."
He snorted. "She's done it plenty of times. I'm just…I don't know." He breathed deeply and grinded his teeth. I could see the muscles in Dale's jaw working instinctively to shove tooth against tooth. He started grinding sometime after Brett went to jail, I remembered. Probably to deal with the silence.
"Jake…I've never even made out with a girl," he finally admitted.
I paused. "Don't tell me you've been making out with guys."
"No!" he cried.
I smiled as lightly as I could. "A joke, Dale, just a joke. Come on, thirteen-year-old girls are the least understood race on the planet, remember that. What they want today, they'll forget about tomorrow. Don't get worked up on this so much, soon you're gonna have more girls fighting for you then you'll know how to handle. Then you'll deal with the problems I face everyday."
He grinned weakly, but grinned nonetheless. "Don't tell me this is the reason you started doing stupid ****?" I asked. Dale's smile faded as both of remembered why we were sitting by the dinner table at three-thirty in the morning.
"No, it's not, and I don't know why you're making it such a big deal. I'm not a drug addict and I'm not gonna die. I smoke with my friends for fun, just like the rest of the world. Why won't you just let it go?"
If I had told him why it was so important to me, we'd be sitting there until dawn broke. "Just tell me why you started."
"Because I just wanna relax sometimes. Things aren't exactly a blast at home."
"So you've never done anything worse than weed?"
"Never," he promised.
I believed him. Maybe he was right. Maybe I had become too paranoid for my own good.
"Alright then, enough fun for one night, let's get some sleep. And forget about this girl, she'll be running to you soon enough." He nodded and we both stood up and put the chairs back in place. I watched Dale in the dim light of the house, my innocent thirteen-year-old brother who I wanted so desperately to protect. When had he started growing those tiny peach fuzz hairs on his chin? What else had I missed? For most of his childhood he never had a mom, his brother was in jail because of a gambling problem and he didn't like to talk to his dad because he said it made him feel worse after they spoke.
I'm the one he's come to every time, I realized. In sixth grade, to help him memorize the solar system. I'd made him repeat: My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas, the first letter of each word corresponding to the nine planets, except he'd keep asking, if the mother is so educated, why isn't she out working instead of serving pizzas? I laughed and told him to focus.
I'd taken his dependence on me for granted. Until this year, every day after my school day was over, I'd drive to the middle school and pick him up from the corner of the block, where he'd wait under the shade of the huge fir tree with a bright smile and his green backpack. Except now, he went to Devon's house everyday after school and I drove home alone, the front seat unbearably empty and the ride quiet without Dale's irreverent chatter.
I'd die for him, I realized. Without a second thought. I don't think he ever knew how much I loved him.
As he was walking from the dining room to the stairs, I called out to him, "Give me a hug, kid." He turned and then groaned when he saw the look on my face.
"Jake, come on I thought you we're going to bed. I'm exhausted."
"Too cool to give your big brother a hug?"
He shrugged and walked over dutifully. I held him fiercely and told him to stay out of trouble. He nodded and patted my back. We broke off and walked upstairs slowly, our footsteps echoing in quiet unity.
"Good night, Jake."
"Good night, Dale."
I stepped into my room and fell asleep before my body was in bed.

I woke the next day to see the sun's lifeless rays peeking uncertainly through my shutters. I rose groggily and glanced out my window upon the winter sun, a sickly ellipse that lit my drab town in pale orange.
I had fallen asleep in the clothes I wore last night, so I changed into sweatpants and an old sweater and headed downstairs, my stomach grumbling. I stepped into the dining room to see Brett quietly reading. He looked up from his Sports Illustrated to regard my entrance with raised eyebrows and an appraising glance.
"Fun night?" he asked.
"Could've been worse."
He regarded me coolly for a second and opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. Instead, he went back to reading, and I threw the cabinet doors open, looking for some cereal.
"Dale called last night. Apparently, you said you'd pick him up from the movies but never showed," he said, face still hidden in the magazine.
"Something came up. I got him later, though."
Silence was my reply, as usual from Brett. I dug through boxes of sugar and tea in the cabinets to find nothing but empty cereal boxes.
"I thought you'd said you'd go buy cereal from Key Food," I said.
"I did. Bottom shelf."
I glanced at the bottom of the cabinet, where two boxes of unopened Fruity Pebbles, my favorite cereal, stood. I grabbed one of the boxes and snatched a bowl and spoon from the dishwasher. I placed them on the table, grabbed some milk from the fridge and sat down.
It was uncomfortable. I stared at the bright colors in my cereal bowl while I ate and Brett didn't so much as glance up again from the magazine. Finally, he closed it and said, "So what happened with Dale last night?"
"He had a date."
Brett laughed. "Damn grow up so fast, don't they?"
"Faster then you can believe. You got the hundred I lent you?"
"I will tomorrow. Once the Lakers crush the Celtics, I'm gonna be a rich, rich man."
"And if they lose?" I asked warily.
"I'm fucked," he admitted. I threw my spoon in the bowl.
"Why do you keep gambling?"
He shook his head, annoyed. "So I can make money."
"She's gone Brett, it doesn't matter how much money you make. You can win every game you bet on, but she's still gone."
His mouth tightened, and his eyes narrowed and hardened. "It's not about that anymore. It's about helping dad."
"I can't keep bailing you out every time you make bad bets. Why don't you get a real job, if you wanna help so much?"
"Oh thank you wise and wonderful little brother, who rescues me from my own stupidity. You don't think I haven't looked for other jobs? Who would want to hire me? The way they see it, I'm a risk to them." He laughed sardonically. "Hey, maybe I can get a job in the stock market though, managing people's money?"
I shook my head. "You're looking in the wrong places. Why don't you start off as a cashier or something?"
"Yeah sure, get talked down too by assholes for a shitty paycheck. No thanks, I'll take my chances gambling." It made me angry; the way he always thought he was too good for everything.
"That's your choice, but don't look to me for any more money."
Brett watched me impassively. "Everything I did, I did for the family. Now when I need your help, you're not gonna be there? What do you care anyway, you're leaving soon and you'll have your own money from InTech."
"No, I changed my mind. I'm gonna stay in Deerfield for the rest of senior year."
He stared at me unflinching, mouth closed tightly until he finally said, "Now when dad needs the money the most, you're gonna throw it away? There's nothing to stay here for!"
"You wouldn't understand." I said.
"That's because you never talk to me," Brett replied, and taking his magazine with him, stood and left.
It was quiet then. I ate the rest of my soggy Fruity Pebbles alone on a dreary Saturday afternoon.

I sat around the rest of the day, watching TV and attempting to write C++, but whenever I sat down to start I couldn't do it. Spending the day writing code just seemed so pointless unless I was getting paid. It's too logical; It's not real life.
Still though, I had to keep my skills up, otherwise I'd forget how everything by the time I went to California. I hunted for C++ Explained, my trusty handbook, to kick up some motivation. But where it should have been I instead found The Myth of Atlas. I must have left it in my programming book clutter when I had lent Brett some money yesterday. Atlas' face, straining and wheezing from the weight on his shoulders now watched me in mute appeal like he was begging me to relieve him.
The book had been a gift from my dad for my birthday before my mom died. Atlas had been my favorite mythological character. Just the thought of him standing there, holding the world on his shoulders for all eternity…How could you not sympathize? Is there a worse fate, just to suffer and be unable to do anything about it?
As I stared at Atlas's pained face, a strange urge hit me. I opened a new window in Microsoft Word and began my next piece of writing: The Rise of Atlas. It would be a chronicle of Atlas' life and what led to him standing there, with the sky on his back.
Once I started I worked for hours. I decided that Atlas had started his war over love for a woman, and it had cost him everything. It was a tragedy, I guess. It wasn't my best piece of writing but I got so caught up that it was dark before I finally took a breather. I walked over to Dale's room to see what he was up too, but he wasn't in his room. I guess he decided not to listen to my advice about Devon. I went back to my computer and worked until night.
It was late when I was finally done writing for the night. I went to check in on Dale again but he still wasn't home. I had nothing else to do, so I waited. And waited.
And waited.
I finally heard the screech of a car, probably a cab as it sped off and Dale finally came home. He was clearly on drugs, as he stumbled like a drunk but didn't smell at all like alcohol. My worst fears were confirmed.
"No," was all I said. He looked at me, blinking rapidly, and fell over a chair. He lay there mumbling strange things. I came over and picked him up but he felt lifeless, like a corpse. I was about to call the ambulance when I heard him speak.
"I-I am sor- sorryyy, I'm so sorry, mom."
I held him in my arms like he was a baby. If he was hallucinating, he must have really taken some strong ****. I carried him up to his room and he didn't say another word but simply watched the house pass around him in a daze.
I dropped him in his bed and wrapped his blanket around him tightly, an old wool blanket he had since he was probably eight or nine. It was patched brown in at least half a dozen spots and many of the fibers were sticking out wildly, but Dale had refused to part with it. My mother had made it.
His eyes were open as he laid there and I stood over him, hoping he would close them and just go to sleep. But he didn't. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something.
"I've let you down, Dale. I should have tried to help you earlier, but I…I don't know, I hoped I was wrong," I said. He didn't answer but his eyes continued to stare at the dark ceiling.
"I'm too late, aren't I?" I asked the stranger in my brother's body. For some reason I wanted to go over to Devon's house and beating the kid to a bloody pulp.
"Dale, is everything OK in there?" I heard my dad call out from right outside of the room. He must have heard me carrying Dale up.
"Yeah dad, everything is fine, I'm just talking to Dale," I called out.
He paused before he answered. "You sure? I heard someone fall downstairs," he replied, unconvinced. I wondered if he knew about Dale's problem and if I could ask him for help. But I didn't want to risk it and hurt my father anymore.
"It's fine dad, Dale tripped by accident and now he's going to sleep. We're just having a brother to brother chat, that's it." I said, shaking my head at Dale. See what you made me do?
"Well…Alright guys. Goodnight then."
"Night dad." My father stood at the door and waited for Dale to say good night. After what felt like hours, he finally walked back to his room. The sound of his footsteps made me feel terribly guilty. I hated Dale for what he had done, as I used to hate myself.
There was no way I would be able to get through to him tonight so shaking my head, I left Dale lying there with whatever terrible dreams he had running through his head. I walked to my room and sat on my bed, leaning against the wall. My mother stared at me from the picture I had taken with her when we went skiing.
"What should I do mom?" I asked her. "How am I supposed to help?"
I wished she was around so I could really ask, but as I stared at her reassuring jade eyes, I began to realize what she would tell me. I knew then what she would want me to do.
I packed my bags late into the night. My sweaters, shirts, shorts, coats, and even my hats. I prepared them all in my luggage and there was light out when I was finally done. I could hear the birds chirping for the start of the new day and when I looked outside, I realized that before the night would come, I would be in California.
I woke up the next morning and for a sweet moment, had completely forgotten what had transpired the night before. But then I looked over at my packed bags and everything hit me at once, like a punch in the gut. I lay back down in my bed and wrapped the covers over my head, imagining the problems of the world would go away if I waited long enough. But when I took them off, my bags were still packed and my last day in Deerfield awaited me.
I stood up and went to Dale's door, but I couldn't step in the room. I wasn't ready yet. I needed more time, to gather my thoughts and to figure out how to convince him. I had to make him see. But first I needed to say a final goodbye to someone who had been such a huge part of my life at home. I'll be back, I thought through Dale's do