Better Together

PREVIOUSLY WRITTEN ON HIGH SCHOOL NORMALITY

"Wow, I can't believe you're breaking up with me."
"I just don't know if I can handle a relationship right now."

"We didn't know if you were hurt or sick or dead. We didn't have any idea when you would be home, and then you just show up and expect us all to forgive you?"
"Forgive me?"
"For walking out on this family just like your father did."

"My name is Evan Starr, I'm the rabbi here at Kikar Tzion Congregation. I just wanted to let you know that you are welcome here during your time of grief."

"You know what, I am under a lot of pressure right now and I do NOT need this!"
"YOU'RE under a lot of pressure? YOU? Don't make me laugh, you wouldn't know pressure if it went up behind you and bit you in the ass!"

"Steve you have plenty of loyal customers. My little brother doesn't need to be one of them!"

"You know what, you have a class to get to, and so do I. Why don't you talk to Jake about it? He's the one who's buying."

"Jake, you have a problem, and hanging out with those people is not going to help you. I think it would be a good idea for you to go to rehab and get cleaned up."
"What do YOU know? YOU RELAPSED!"

"Hello?"
"David, we need to talk."

"Meet you at the Coffee Plantation?"
"Sounds good. See you in a few."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"David!"

I had hoped that I would get there first and that I would have a little time to mentally prepare for this severely awkward coffee date, but, just as I have learned over the years, life just isn't that kind.

"Hey."

"Hey."

And the awkwardness had officially started.

"So, um, how are you?"

"I've been a lot better. How about you?"

"The same."

Another awkward silence.

"Um, I'm gonna get some coffee. I'll, uh, be right back."

As I walked up to the counter, I couldn't help but ask myself why did it have to be this way, why did we have to go on a break, why did we have to see other people, why did we have to break up while I was mourning my father's death?

My name is David and I'm a normal high school student.

And although I had many questions, one question was behind it all: how do I begin to ask?

"Welcome to--oh hi, David."

As if this couldn't get any more awkward.

"Hi Joy. I need my usual, and fast."

"You and the guys having one of your meetings?"

"No, Callie and I are actually having the post-breakup conversation."
"Breakup?"

"Yeah. Listen, I really need that coffee, like, soon. If she sees that you're working it's just gonna be a trigger for her to talk about our--thing."

"Okay no problem. That'll be $3.99."

"Thanks."

As I waited for Joy to fix up my latte, Mark Adams and Aaron Stanwick were fixing up Michael Florence.

"Mark, I told you, I'm not ready to date yet."

"Mikey, it's been 2 months! You gotta get yourself out there!"

"I don't usually agree with Mark, but he's right. You have to stop being single and depressed."

"You're single."

"But I'm happily single. You, on the other hand, are miserable."

"Who says I'm miserable? I enjoy not being tied down. It's--liberating."

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit! I legitimately enjoy being single!"

"Why? I mean, what freedom do you have? Sure, you're free to play the field, but have you been playing the field? No. So really, you're just a guy who comes home and plays with his dog."

"Um, I love Mittens."

"And if you truly love her you will leave her alone for awhile and you will play with other bitches."

Michael thought about it; it was true that he hadn't dated since he and Leslie Lawrence broke up, but he just wasn't sure if he was ready to go back into the dating pool, especially after losing his unborn child to a miscarriage.

"Everyone needs to start somewhere, Michael. If that means just going on one date simply to practice your dating skills, than that's what you need to do."

He thought for only a minute more, and proceeded to say "Okay, but just one date."

Meanwhile, I received my coffee and headed back to the table.

"Sorry it took so long."

"It didn't take any longer than usual."

Contradictory statements: a surefire way to bring more awkwardness into an already awkward situation.

"So..."

"So..."

The suspense was killing me! I didn't know if I should be the one to bring it up, or if she was gonna bring it up, or if it was even gonna be brought up at all.

"So, you wanted to talk about something?"

"Uh, yeah. I wanted to talk about us."

"What more is there to talk about? You hurt me, I hurt you, we hurt each other and now we're over. Right?"

"I just don't want there to be any hard feelings between us. I was hoping that for these last couple months of high school that we--"

"--could be friends?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you want t0 be."

"To be honest, I don't know what I want. I think I need some space though. There's a lot going on in my life right now and I think that for a while, it would be best if we just didn't talk."

"David, we can't just go from being in a relationship to being complete strangers!"

"We won't be complete strangers. I'm still editor-in-chief and you're still layout editor. There are going to be times that we'll have to talk. We just won't be texting for hours on end or commenting on each other's Facebook statuses. At least not for awhile."

"And you're sure that this is what you want to do?"

"Like I said, I don't know what I want, but I need some time to figure it out. That's just how break-ups are. Anyway, I really should be heading home, so I guess I'll see you around."

"Okay. Thanks for meeting me, I guess."

Giving each other space proved to be harder than we thought. As the weeks went by, it became more and more hurtful, especially as prom approached and it seemed that neither of us would have anyone to go with.

But I had bigger problems to deal with than prom. My brother Jake was still buying and using drugs from Steve Weiss, and there was nothing I could do. I tried everything--flushing the drugs, telling him about my own drug experiences, even giving him pamphlets on good rehab centers, but much to my chagrin, nothing worked. He was hurting inside, and unfortunately getting high was his way of coping. I wished that I could have helped him, but the truth is that nothing I could have done would have done any good. Aside from being related Jake and I were perfect strangers.

"Why don't you tell him about my experience? I mean, I didn't go to rehab or anything, but I did get into some hardcore stuff."

"It won't work. He doesn't care about what others have been through. He says it's not about them, it's about him."

"I just don't understand. I mean, when did he randomly decide to become a raver?"

"About two months ago, around the same time that Cal died. Oh shit!"

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just that I just realized that it's been almost two months since Cal died. Wow."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just--wow."

RING RING RING

"Hello? Oh, hey babe!"

Whatever was on all of our minds exited immediately upon hearing those words from Michael's mouth.

"Okay. When? Tonight? Sure, sounds great! Can't wait! Bye."

Michael hung up the phone and put it in his pocket. Afterward, he looked up and the big smile on his face vanished as he saw our confused looks.

"Babe?"

"Tonight?"

"Mikey, do you have a girl?"

He was silent at first, and then answered coolly.

"Yeah, you know, whatever."

"Whatever? Michael, how long have you been seeing this girl?"

"And why didn't we know about this?"

"And most importantly, how's the sex?"

"You guys! It's not that big a deal, really. I gotta go, I'll see you guys later."

Michael jogged to his jeep and sped out of the parking lot.

"I wonder why he would keep that from us."

"I don't know. Maybe it really isn't a big deal."

RING RING RING

"Hello?"

"Hi, baby!"

"Hey sexy! What's up?"

"Well, I bought this new shirt, but it's so small that I think it's going to just pop off any minute!"

"My place in 10?"

"Hopefully my breasts can contain themselves until then!"

He hung up with determination.

"Can I get a ride home?"

After an afternoon of passionate sex, Mark and his girlfriend Mal lay together, soaking in the moment.

"That was fun."

"Oh yeah."

"So I was thinking, we always meet at my place."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I was wondering, don't you want to know what sex feels like in your own bed?"

Mal tensed up.

"Why--why would I want to do that?"

"Well, it's just that I've never been to your house, or met your parents, or anything. Even at choir concerts I've never met them or even seen them."

"I should probably get going."

Mal got our of bed and quickly began getting dressed.

"Mal wait! Can't we talk about this?"

"Thanks for the sex. See you later."

Mark threw on a robe and chased after her.

"Mal! Wait up?"

"Why?"

"Because I think we need to talk about this!"

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm leaving."

She slammed the door on her way out, leaving Mark with a confused mind and a troubled heart.

Meanwhile, I walked into my house to find that my mom had decided to take charge of Jake's situation.

"Drugs Jake? Don't you remember what happened to David last summer?"

"You don't understand, Mom! Drugs are NOT a bad thing! In fact, I think that I've become a much better person because of them."

"Are you serious right now? Are you FUCKING SERIOUS?!?!"

"You just don't understand!"

"You're right! I don't understand how I could have raised TWO DRUG ADDICTS!!!"

All of a sudden, Jake stormed toward me.

"How could you tell her? I trusted you!"

"Jake, I didn't say anything to her!"

"LIAR!!! HOW COULD YOU?!?!"

"Jake I didn't say anything!"

"I hate you all!"

He ran upstairs and slammed the door. My mom looked at me with the most disappointed eyes I had ever seen.

"You knew?"

I tried to swallow, but my nerves had closed my throat.

"My son is on drugs, and you KNEW?!?!"

"Mom, I tried to get him to stop before you found out, but--"

"But what? He didn't LISTEN to you? Of course he didn't listen! He's a DRUG ADDICT!!! You of all people should understand that!"

"Why is it that everyone keeps throwing that in my face? Did I not go to rehab? Did I not get help? Have I not been seeing a therapist once a week for the last 10 months about it? I'm clean! I have been for almost a year! What good was it going to do to tell you about Jake? If he won't listen to me he sure as hell won't listen to you!"

My mom slapped me across the face. It was the first time in 18 years that she ever hit me. I grabbed ahold of my cheek and felt the hot, fresh pain from the palm of her hand. As tears began to form in my eyes, I ran out of the house, pried the Prius's door open, and sped away.

Both hands on the wheel, Coldplay's A Rush of Blood to the Head album on full blast, I sped down Tatum toward the only place I could think of going. The one place that I felt I could safely take refuge, without Joy, or Callie, or Jake, or the guys, or anyone else that might disturb my peace.

As I pulled into Kikar Tzion Congregation, I remembered that first morning after Cal's death. As upset as I was, it somehow helped to come to a synagogue. It was weird because I had never particularly cared for religion in the past, but things were different now. Cal was dead, Mom had stopped trusting me, I was single, and my friends and I were about to go to four different schools far away from each other. I was, for all intents and purposes, alone.

While I picked up a prayer book and began davening, Micahel was praising God for a whole different thing.

"Oh God! That was amazing!"

"It really was. I forgot how much fun sex could be."

Michael leaned over and kissed her. It was as if they had never parted.

"Now why is it that we must be sworn to secrecy?"

"Because in four months I will be going off to Dartmouth and you'll be at Cal Lutheran, and I just don't want to get too attached."

"So what does that have anything to do with anyone else?"

"Because this isn't about anyone else. This is about you and me, and when other people get involved there's all of this pressure for us to be a couple."

"And you don't want that?"

"I don't want any complications."
"Then, in that case, I'm thinking we shouldn't go to prom together?"

"I wasn't gonna go to prom, but if you want to go, you should."

"Leslie, I love you. Wherever you are is where I want to be. Even if we're not 'Facebook Official,' I just want to be with you."

"I want to be with you too."

Michael grabbed Leslie's hands.

"Then let's be together."

While Michael and Leslie made love again, Rabbi Evan Starr approached me.

"Hello David. So happy you could join us this evening. We always have trouble creating a minyon."

"It's my pleasure."

"I haven't seen you since right after your father died. How has your grieving period gone so far?"

"Well, I went to Israel to bury him, and then life has kind of just gone on. My family's in shambles, but that's nothing new."

"Well, if there is any way I can offer my assistance--"

"Thank you, Rabbi, but they're not much into religion and up until now I haven't been either."

"What changed?"

"I don't know. I guess I just did."

"Well, however you got here, we're very happy to have you."

The service began and the ten of us that were in the small chapel prayed together as a community. It was the first time I had felt unity with any group of people since Cal died. But maybe I felt that sense of unity because I wanted to feel it. Maybe I was looking for it, so I found it. And maybe I could bring that sense of unity into choir for the Showcase Concert, and into journalism for the final issue of the Sentinal, and even into my family so that we could actaually be a family again.

Maybe all I had to do was look for it, and there it would be.

David Adler

Normal High School Student

Don't Panic

PREVIOUSLY WRITTEN ON HIGH SCHOOL NORMALITY

"What's going on?"
"My father's dead."

"How--how did he die?"
"We assume it was suicide. We heard a gunshot and when we broke into his apartment he was just lying here, the gun next to his body, surrounded by blood."

"Mark? Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"And me."
"And me."
"Holy shit!"

"I thought you were going to save the jewelery box."

"Well, these watches and necklaces and rings don't belong to me, and they don't belong to that damn landlord. They belong to Cal, so I figured that if I bury them, then they'll be with their rightful owner."

"Wow, I can't believe you're breaking up with me."

"I just don't know if I can handle a relationship right now."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"BROTHER!!!"

It was the warmest welcome I had ever received.

"Hey kiddo! Miss me?"

"Yeah!"

"I missed you too! Hey, why don't you go up and get the toy box out and I'll be up in a minute."

"Okay."

As my half-sister, Maya, ran upstairs to get the Hot Wheels going, my mom approached me in a slightly less warm way.

"Hi Mom."

"Hello, David."

There was no hug, not even a handshake. Just a look of disappointment.

"Now, I understand why you felt the need to go pay respect at your father's grave, but what I don't understand is why you went the entire trip without calling us."

Well, that's one way to be welcomed home.

"Mom, I--"

"Do you know how worried we were? We didn't know if you were hurt or sick or dead. We didn't have any idea when you would be home, and then you just show up and expect us all to forgive you?"

"Forgive me?"

"For walking out on this family just like your father did."

Okay, ouch.

"You know what, I just flew 8,000 miles to bury my father. I am tired, and my back is killing me because I sat in Coach for 17 hours. I'm going upstairs and playing with my sister who is actually happy to see me, and I will just see you later."

My mom said nothing as I walked up the stairs toward my room.

My name is David, and I'm a normal high school student.

And just like any normal person, I didn't like being bombarded after a long journey.

While Maya and I began building tracks for the Hot Wheels cars to speed through, Aaron Stanwick, Mark Adams, and Michael Florence all returned to their own homes. It had been nice to share some of my time in Israel with my three best friends, who used Mark's mom's boyfriend's credit card to surprise me. But, especially only being there for a couple of days, the time difference was taxing on them.

"Mom, I can't go to the youth activity tonight! I'm too tired!"

"How do you expect me to do the dishes when I can't even keep my eyes open?"

"Mal, I can't handle phone sex right now! I'll call you tomorrow!"

It had been a difficult trip for all of us, but for me, it was much more than the time difference. While I was away, not only did I bury my father, but I also got dumped, evicted, and sexually harrassed by my father's really hot neighbor (in retrospect, the sexual harrassment wasn't that bad, but it made me very uncomfortable). I was looking forward to coming home and just relxing, but I knew that there would be no relaxing, especially once I went back to school.

It was late March, and Spring Break was nearing its end. Senioritis was at its peak, and my recent loss would not make it any easier.

The drive to school on that Monday was silent; Coldplay's Viva la Vida album was faintly audible, but neither Jake nor I attempted conversation. My brother and I had drifted so far apart that sometimes I didn't even know who he was. He had begun wearing eyeliner as well as an array of really gaudy scarves from Hot Topic. I never saw him at school, so I had no idea who he hung out with, but they couldn't be good people if they were influencing him to act the way that he was.

I pulled into my usual parking space and as soon as he was out of the Prius, he slammed the door and stormed off. Aaron arrived shortly after I did and parked next to me.

"What's with him?"

"I don't know. He never talks to me. But it's okay, because next year when I'm at ASU I won't have to deal with him or anyone else in my house."

"Something happen?"

"Well, my mom decided it would be real fun to accuse me of walking out on the family by going to Israel."

"What?"

"Yeah. Apparently, because I took advantage of a plane ticket that Cal bought for me and because I didn't ask permission, I'm the antichrist! Like I need permission to go to my own father's funeral."

"Hey, calm down, it's fine. Let's just focus on school."

The day was a blur. I remember Mr. Hurt talking about logarithms, and I remember Mrs. Pepperdine mentioning anapestic tetrameter, and I remember Mr. Jackson changing his mind about whether aggregate demand shifted to the right or the left, but I could not even begin to tell you how to convert a logarithm to an exponent, or how many stressed syllables are in that particular meter, or why aggregate demand was shifting in the first place. Everything I learned that day went in one ear and out the other because all I could focus on was the image of dry blood on the floor where Cal had killed himself. I had taken notes, but when I looked at them at lunch to review them, I had no recollection of any of it. The only class I could somewhat focus on was choir, but even there I had some issues getting the dance steps down for our Showcase Concert.

"DON'T YOU ALL UNDERSTAND THAT WE HAVE A CONCERT IN A MONTH?"

It was a comfort to know, though, that I wasn't the only one that couldn't handle the choreography.

"I mean, seriously! It's just a step-touch leading into a three-point turn! NO QUESTIONS!"

Miss Connolly was really cool outside the classroom, but inside she could be a real pain.

"I know it's our last concert and everything, but I'm having a hard time focusing."

"Tell me about it."

"Mark and David, are you done talking?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Let's take it from the top."

After choir, my mind was even more of a blur. I could tell that Aaron and Michael were having some sort of conversation about something while Mark made out with his girlfriend Mal Wales, but I was just trying to mull over everything that was going through my head--Cal's suicide, the entire trip to Israel, and behind everything, the idea that high school was nearing its end. There would be no breaks between now and the end of the year with the rigorous rehearsals for the Showcase Concert, prep for AP tests, and the final issue of The Summit Sentinel. The end of high school was a strange thought; it felt like I had been going to classes at Summit Peak High School for a million years and it never occurred to me that one day it would actually be over.

DING DONG DING DONG

I got up from our lunch spot without even saying anything. My mind was in a daze; I couldn't focus on anything. I faintly heard Michael shout "See you in Jazz Choir," but I said nothing in response.

I walked slowly toward the newsroom, taking one step at a time, feeling as though I was on the verge of a meltdown. Images of the closed casket and the hundreds of people that mourned him as his body was lowered into the grave clouded my mind. I suddenly yearned for the warm sands of Tel Aviv to be right beneath my toes, and I longed for the warm sun to embrace my face as I hopped into the Mediterranean Sea. I kept hoping I would turn around and see the clear waters before me, my best friends waiting for me to join them. But what I saw instead was nowhere near the paradise I wished for.

Standing outside the journalism room, as if she was waiting for me, was Callie Anderson, my ex-girlfriend who decided to break up with me while I was thousands of miles away.

"Hey."

"Hey."

My former girlfriend Joy Harris had gone to a different school, so I never had to worry about bumping into her in the halls after we broke up.

DING DONG DING DONG

"We should--uh--probably get in there before Mrs. Beasely has our heads."

I powerwalked past Callie to get into the room and forgot to hold the door for her. I don't know if it was because I was in a daze or because subconsciously I really didn't want to hold the door for her. Either way, the door almost slammed in her face as I headed toward the podium to start class.

"BUBBLE CHEEKS NOW! Welcome back, I hope you all had a great spring break, please turn your attention to David."

"Thanks Mrs. Beasely. So, we have a deadline coming up next week, and it's a pretty big one because it's our last issue before the big senior issue."

For some reason, sitting in front of the newspaper staff helped me focus more. Maybe it was that I didn't want to look bad in front of Callie, or just that I didn't want to look bad in front of the staff. But I suddenly felt confident and professional.

"I know we all got our assignments before spring break so hopefully you are all making good progress. Editors, we need to have a meeting right now, so everyone get to work."

The editors, which included Callie, came forward to the podium ready to hear my instruction. Callie looked nervous.

"Okay, so we need to start talking layout for the issue. We're doing a 32-pager this issue because there's a lot of articles. Alix, what's the status on copy?"

"I've gotten a few articles and they're looking pretty good, but the writers are still having a hard time grasping proper style."

"Are you coaching them on it when you give them back their pages?"

"No..."

"You need to make sure to do that. Um, Callie, have you started working on some layouts, fonts, etc?"

"Well, I've been focusing on my article."

"Well, you need to be focusing on layout too. We go to press in two weeks!"

"I've been on Spring Break."

"So have the rest of us, but the rest of us are on top of things. How do you expect to succeed in NYU's journalism program if you can't stay on top of things here?"

"Um, okay, I'll have some layouts drawn up by tomorrow."

"Great! That would be really helpful! Okay, so since our layout editor has been falling behind on her job, we all need to pitch in. Tonight, everyone needs to draw up the layouts for their sections, and then Callie will use those to help her create the final layout template. I think that's everything we need to discuss, so go work."

I headed over to a computer and started doing some research about my latest article about the Drama Department's production of Footloose and set up some interviews with cast members. After class, as I headed toward the choir room, Callie caught up with me.

"Hey Jackass!"

"Excuse me?"

"What the fuck was that in there?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but that little outburst in there was about a little more than my editor position."

"I'm just trying to make sure everyone's on top of things. That's what editor-in-chief does."

"My ass."

"What about it?"

"David, I know you're all about professionalism when it comes to that staff, but that in there was not professional, and I think we just need to talk."

"Okay, Callie. Talk."

"I didn't mean--"

"Oh, you meant when it's convenient for you. I see, some things just never change."

"You know what, I am under a lot of pressure right now and I do NOT need this!"

"YOU'RE under a lot of pressure? YOU? Don't make me laugh, you wouldn't know pressure if it went up behind you and bit you in the ass!"

"David--"

"No, I'm sick of hearing your excuses. You're just trying to make it all about--"

"DAVID!"

"WHAT?"

"Look over there."

I turned around and saw Jake shaking hands with Steve Weiss.

"What the hell?"

As Jake walked away toward his next class, I walked toward Steve with a few words to say.

"What the fuck just happened?"

"Oh hey Davey! Just servicing a new customer."

"Did you know that that new customer is my BROTHER?"

"Oh now it's a family affair! Excellent!"

"EXCELLENT? THAT'S ALL YOU CAN SAY?"

"What do you expect me to say, Dave? He wants some junk, I'm a junkyard. A guy's gotta eat."

"Steve you have plenty of loyal customers. My little brother doesn't need to be one of them!"

"Jake's a troubled boy, and I have something that can help him out from time to time. I like to think of it as me doing a civil service."

"Drug trafficking is not a civil service! It's ILLEGAL!"

DING DONG DING DONG

"You know what, you have a class to get to, and so do I. Why don't you talk to Jake about it? He's the one who's buying."

As Steve walked away, his last words rang in my ear. I could blame Steve all I wanted, but even he always said that he doesn't usually seek out customers; they find him.

My focus was gone by the time I got to Jazz Choir. I was sloppily reading rhythms, my pitch was off, and it was bringing down the quality of the entire song.

"David, what's the issue."

"Uh, nothing Miss Connolly. Just--tired."

"Well, you can take a nap when you get home. Right now we need your voice."

"Yes ma'am."

I attempted to focus a little more and found enough focus to get through the rest of the class period. After choir, Aaron, Michael, and I walked out to our cars and waited for the parking lot to clear a little bit.

"What do you mean he bought drugs?"

"Is there really anything else that that could mean?"

"Are you sure Steve's not pulling your leg?"

"About this? No. Steve Weiss is a lot of things, but he is not a liar."

"You should talk to Jake first at least, you know, before you jump to any conclusions."

"Too late."

Jake got to the Prius, opened the door, and slammed it shut.

"Well, good luck with that."

"Thanks."

We were silent at first, and then I eased into it.

"So, how was your day?"

"Fine."

"Anything exciting?"

"No."

"Nothing you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Jake--I know."

"What?"

"I know about you and Steve!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Jake, I know that you bought drugs from him this afternoon before 7th period. I saw it, and Steve confirmed it."

"Oh."

"Did you learn NOTHING from my REHAB EXPERIENCE?"

Jake was silent.

"Do you want to spend the first six months of your summer detoxicating yourself and the next year of your life in therapy?"

"You just don't understand!"

"What don't I understand? Turning pain into addiction? I LIVED IT!"

"I'm not LIKE you, David! I'm different! I don't have any sort of escape from my problems! I NEED the stuff!"

"Jake, if there's one thing I learned above all else when I was in rehab, it was that no one needs drugs. It's desire. It's something that's available to you and easy for you to get a hold of. Steve won't deny a customer a drug ever. What do your friends think?"

"They all do it too!"

"You're hanging out with DRUG ADDICTS?"

"They're not addicts! They can quit anytime and so can I!"

"Jake, you have a problem, and hanging out with those people is not going to help you. I think it would be a good idea for you to go to rehab and get cleaned up."

"What do YOU know? YOU RELAPSED!"

"Yeah, once. But I got past that too, and I think that if you take my advice you can get past it too."

We were silent as we pulled into the garage. Jake slammed the door shut as soon as he got out of the car and stormed into the house. I rested my head on the steering wheel, feeling like a total and complete failure. I knew that Jake and I had drifted, but I thought that I could do something to help.

RING RING RING

"Hello?"

"David, we need to talk."

"Callie, I have had a difficult afternoon, and it's only 2:30. Can we please talk tomorrow?"

"No, because then you're going to push it back to the next day and the next day and the next day until we go off to college and never get a chance to talk about this."

She was right. It was bound to be an unpleasant conversation, but it was neccessary.

"When?"

"Is now a good time?"

I looked at the door leading from the garage to my house, knowing that Jake was alone in the house doing whatever drugs he bought from Steve.

"Now's as good a time as any. Meet you at the Coffee Plantation?"

"Sounds good. See you in a few."

So I drove off, leaving Jake to his own devices and trying despearately not to think about it. I had done what I could to try to help him, and he resisted it. I had done the right thing, and now it was his problem. Besides, I had enough problems of my own to deal with.

Sometimes, when helping others doesn't work too well, you really just have to think about yourself.

David Adler

Normal High School Student

Stand By Me

PREVIOUSLY WRITTEN ON HIGH SCHOOL NORMALITY

"This is a ticket for you. One day, when you do understand all of this, please come find me."

"What's going on?"
"My father's dead."

"We are now making our final descent into Ben Gurion International Airport."

"You are David?"
"Yes, and you are--"
"Ronit. I buzzed you in."
"Oh hi, it's so nice to meet you."
"I lived across ze hall from your fazer."

"Wow, I can't believe you're breaking up with me."

"I just don't know if I can handle a relationship right now."

"May I help you?"
"Calvin Adler is being evicted."
"Are you kidding me?"
"This is no kidding matter. Please tell Calvin Adler he has three days to get out."

"How--how did he die?"
"We assume it was suicide. We heard a gunshot and when we broke into his apartment he was just lying here, the gun next to his body, surrounded by blood."

"Are you sure that going to Israel is such a good idea?"

"David is our best friend. Whether he likes it or not, he needs us."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BUZZ

"Who is it?"

I expected it to be the landlord with another friendly reminder to pack up all of Cal's shit.

"Guess who?"

But instead I got the three people I least expected.

"Mark? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"And me."

"And me."

"Holy shit!"

I buzzed them in and about a minute later, Mark Adams, Aaron Stanwick, and Michael Florence were standing outside my dead father's door.

"HOLY SHIT! It IS true! Oh my fucking God!"

To say that I was surprised would be an understatement. To say that I was ecstatic would be even more of an understatement.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?"

"Well, Aaron told us about Cal, so my mom's new beau found us three seats on the next flight to Israel."

"That easily?"

"He's more loaded than my cock."

"Dang it, Mark! We almost went an entire 24 hours without you making some vulgar sex joke!"

"Sorry, that one actually was really unnecessary."

"You think?"

My name is David, and I'm a normal high school student.

And perhaps the biggest understatement of all was that now, more than ever, I needed my boys.

While the guys got settled in (meaning, while they slept like babies), I went across the hall to talk to Cal's very hot neighbor, Ronit.

"So she just dumped you?"

"Yeah. I mean, she wasn't planning on doing it right then and there, but she did."

"I am so sorry, David. You are dealing wiz so much right now. Zis was not a good time for zis."

"You're telling me."

"May I offer you some rebound sex?"

"No thanks. I'm not really in the mood."

"Okay. Just putting it out there."

Ronit was sexy, in her 20s, very easy to talk to, and seemingly even easier to get into bed, but between my grief over my father's death, my newfound singleness, and the fact that I needed to get all of Cal's stuff out of the apartment in the next couple of days, I had enough going on. At least the guys were there to help me out.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"I'll get it."

Ronit opened the door to find Michael standing in front of it. As soon as he saw Ronit standing there, the outlines of her nipples clearly visible underneath her tight pink t-shirt, his heart melted.

"Uh, hi."

"Hi."

"I'm--uh--looking for David."

"Hi Michael."

"Uh, hey. We're all awake."

"Cool."

Awkward silence.

"Michael, this is my neighbor, Ronit."

"Nice to meet you, Michael."

"Nice to meet you too."

"Michael I'll be there in a minute."

"Um--okay."

Ronit laughed weakly when the door closed.

"My three best friends flew in this morning to surprise me and have been sleeping for the past couple of hours. That one's usually a lot smoother."

"He's cute. Is he a virgin like you?"

"No, he's not a virgin...and neither am I!"

Ronit laughed hysterically.

"I'm only teasing. You should go to your friends. I will see you later."

That night, the guys and I went to Orna and Ella, a popular bistro. Over dinner, I brought them up to speed on my trip thus far.

"So then, after the funeral, I call Callie and she breaks up with me!"

"Seriously? Why?"

"She said she couldn't handle a relationship. I think it's about the whole Joy thing, but she'll never admit that because it would be showing a sign of weakness."

"What a ho."

"That's not even the best part! Right after the break-up, some douchebag comes to the door and hands me an eviction notice!"

"No!"

"Yeah, so I have to get all of Cal's crap out of the apartment in the next couple of days."

"Where are you going to put it?"

"Beats me! I mean, I guess I could ship it back home, but that's gonna cost a ton."

"Well, maybe tomorrow we could go through everything. You know, help you figure out what you want to ship and what you feel you can leave behind."

"Is that really my decision? I mean, it's Cal's stuff."

"But you're his son, and you're entitled to make these decisions."

"I guess you're right."

"So, what's the story with Ronit?"

"Ooo, you like her, huh?"

"Who's Ronit?"

"This beautiful woman that lives across the hall."

"DIBS!"

"You have a girlfriend."

"Oh yeah. Sorry, it's still kind of a new concept to me. I'm gonna call her right now. I'll be back."

His hand was already halfway down his pants as he headed toward the payphone.

"Anyway, what's the story?"

"Well, she lives alone, she wears very little clothing most of the time, and she has offered me sex twice."

"And you haven't taken her up on it?"

"Well, the first time I was in a committed relationship, and the second time I really didn't feel like it."

"God, if I were you I would have been in her before she even finished offering!"

"Who are you, Mark?"

"Seriously, this really isn't like you at all."

"Well, it's just that ever since me and Leslie broke up I have been hornier than a ram!"

"Nice."

"Well, if she's offered David sex, I'm sure she'd be more than willing to serve you as well."

"She did think you were cute."

"Oh my God! She talked to you? What did she say?"

"She asked if you were a virgin, and I said no. By the way, do I seem like a virgin to you guys?"

"I don't really know how to answer that."

After dinner, we went back to the apartment and sat on the floor in front of the fireplace.

"He killed himself. No warning signs, no note, just a pistol lying in a pool of blood."

"Damn. I'm so sorry."

"No one saw it coming?"

"No. Ronit said that they heard a gunshot and that was it."

"Shit."

"You know, he never called once while he was here. Never wrote, never e-mailed. Never cared."

"I'm sure he just wanted to give you your space."

"And you know, I never tried to contact him either. I guess I didn't really miss him. I don't even know why I'm here paying respect to a man who I obviously don't care about."

"If you didn't care about him, you wouldn't have come."

Michael was right. I did feel like I needed to bring some closure to the situation. Cal and I hadn't spoken since he left back in December, and to be honest I didn't really feel a need to contact him, but he was on my mind constantly, and the idea of rebuilding my relationship with him was always there. I just wished I'd had a chance to save our relationship before he was buried.

The next day I woke up before the other three, so I threw on a sweatshirt, a pair of gym shorts, and a hat, and headed toward the beach to take a walk.

The early morning tide crashed in as I walked along the sandy shore of the Tel Aviv beach. It was about 6 a.m., and there were very few people around. The sun had begun to rise and I couldn't help but smile at the beautiful sights around me. It was all so calm, so refreshing. For an instant, I felt that everything was right with the world and just breathed it in. What started out as a walk became a jog, and what became a jog transformed into a run. I felt free as I sprinted across the the sandy threshold. For the first time in a while, I was genuinely happy.

When I got back to the apartment, Aaron had begun making a large pan of eggs while Michael channel-surfed and Mark updated his Facebook status on his iTouch.

"Good morning. Where have you been?"

"Woke up really early so I went for a run on the beach."

"How was it?"

"Exhilarating. It was a good way for me to clear my head."

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

I opened the door to find Ronit, wearing a tight halter top and low-cut jeans.

"Boker Tov, David!"

"Good morning to you, too. Won't you come in?"

The guys' jaws dropped at the sight of her.

"Guys, this is Ronit. Ronit, this is Aaron and Mark, and you met Michael already."

"Nice to see you again, Michael."

Michael blushed.

"So, what are your plans for ze day, gentlemen?"

"Well, we were going to start going through Cal's things to see what we should ship back home."

"Zat sounds--boring."

"Well, unfortunately he's being evicted, so it's something that has to be done."

"Look, you are only going to be in Israel for a couple more days. Zere's so much to see. You can pack up his stuff later. Right now, we are going to Jerusalem."

"Jerusalem? Isn't that kind of far?"

"It's only an hour's drive to ze most beautiful city on Earth. Come on!"

And before I could argue the importance of getting our work done, Michael, Mark, and Aaron were out the door.

By the time we got to Jerusalem, I was glad we blew off going through Cal's stuff. It was more beautiful than I had ever imagined; the walls were covered in ivy and some of the buildings dated back so long ago that I couldn't even begin to estimate how old it was.

Finally, after walking around for a while, we approached the Western Wall in time for morning minyon. Ronit went to the other side of the mehitza (the curtain that divides the men and the women) and the four of us went closer to the wall. There were people of all walks of life; elderly men, college students, and even children were there writing notes and placing them within the cracks of the wall. When they took the Torah out, I was nearly brought to tears; it hit me that every Jew at some point in their lives had faced eastward toward the wall. Whether they were in America, England, or standing right in the spot that I was, their eyes were fixated on the same exact point. At the end I said the mourner's prayer for Cal and wrote a short note to stick in one of the cracks.

We met up with Ronit and headed back toward Tel Aviv for dinner. She treated us to lunch at Tazza D'oro, a delicious cafe in the neighborhood of Neve Tzedek. Afterward, we went back to the apartment and the four of us began going through Cal's stuff.

"First thing's first, are you going to want any of his clothes?"

"Well considering he was much shorter and fatter than I, I probably won't be wearing any of it."

"Okay, how about his sheets?"

"They're nice, but I'm not sure they're necessary."

"How about his furniture?"

"Well, we have furniture at home, so I don't think we need to ship it."

"How about the pans?"

"Nah."

"The dishrags?"

"No."

"Is there anything here that you do want?"

I didn't say a word. I just headed toward his room.

I looked around. The bedsheets and the floor were still stained with blood, and a chalk outline of his body had been drawn, but overlooking the crime scene was his jewelery box, sitting neatly on the dresser for him to grab a watch or a necklace or a ring. In looking at it, none of the other horrible sights in his room seemed to matter. Cal had died; I knew that. But I knew also that I didn't need every single thing he had in his possession to remember that although he was no longer living, and although I hadn't spoken to him in many months, I still loved him, and he still loved me.

"This is what I want," I said as I held the box for them to see. "It contains all of his jewelery, which he probably treasured most in his life. If anything should be saved, it should be this box and everything in it."

The next day we packed our bags and got ready to leave. I had gotten the closure I needed, and it was time to go home.

"Come on, guys. Our flight leaves at 3."

"It's only 9."

"But there's something I need to do before we go to the airport."

"What?"

"Get your swim trunks on, boys. We're going to the beach."

We brought our bags to Ronit's apartment in case the landlord came to lock up Cal's apartment and throw away the key. I took one last look at the apartment where my father had lived and died, and then we advanced toward the beach.

"David, you know I'm all for fun in the sun, but do we really have time?"

"This will only take a minute. Help me dig!"

With our feet we dug a small hole in the sand and when I thought it was deep enough, I placed the box inside.

"Are you sure about this, Dave?"

"More sure than I have ever been about anything."

"Wait--I don't get it. I thought you were going to save the jewelery box."

"Yeah--for Cal."

"What?"

"Well, these watches and necklaces and rings don't belong to me, and they don't belong to that damn landlord. They belong to Cal, so I figured that if I bury them, then they'll be with their rightful owner."

"That is potentially the most beautiful thing I have ever heard."

We kicked sand over the jewelery box and stood for a moment, staring at the sand.

"So...what now?"

We stood for a moment in silence before I broke the solemnity.

"First one to the water's a rotten egg!"

We raced to the warm waters of the Mediterranean Sea and just screwed around like teenagers are supposed to do. We dunked each other's heads and pushed each other around and laughed so hard that we cried. The sun was shining, the water was warm, and above all else, the four of us were together.

And once again, in the waters of Tel Aviv, Israel, everything was right with the world.

David Adler

Normal High School Student