In the End, Part 1

PREVIOUSLY WRITTEN ON HIGH SCHOOL NORMALITY

"Hello?"

"David, we need to talk."

"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 to be."

"Don't you want to know what sex feels like in your own bed?"

"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."

"I should probably get going."

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

"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."

"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!"

"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."

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"The Mourner's Kaddish begins on page 226."

Rising to say the Mourner's Kaddish at Kikar Tzion Congregation had become part of my daily routine for almost a month, and yet I still felt the same comfort in it everytime I said the prayer.

It was strange; I always hated what religion had done to people. All my life I convinced myself that religion led to questons, which led to answers, which led to judgments, which led to division, and while religion does do that, it also brings people together in a time of crisis.

Every night after the service ended, I shook hands with Rabbi Starr and headed home, where things got progressively worse every single night.

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

And more than anything in the world, I just wanted my family to find something that could bring us together again.

But instead, we just kept pushing each other apart. Libby left for a summer abroad program at Cambridge University, where she would be for the next 6 weeks, Jake had finally been shipped off to rehab, Lucy Greer and her daughter Maya finally found an apartment, and Mom resorted to shoving everything under the rug and taking her anger out on me. I was so glad that high school would be over soon.

"David, am I gonna see you when you go to college?"

My baby sister was the only person in my house who still gave me joy.

"Of course, sweetie. Why wouldn't you?"

"Well, Mommy and me are moving to a new house, and so are you."

"Come here."

I motioned for her to sit on my lap and I kissed her forehead.

"You know, I didn't always live in this house."

"You didn't?"

"No. In fact, I used to live about 15 minutes away from here in a neighborhood called Mountaingate North, right next door to Mark."

"You did?"

"Yeah, and Mark is still one of my best friends. No, we don't see each other as much as we did when we lived next to each other, but we hang out a lot, go to movies and to pizza and coffee shops."

"Coffee's gross."

"Well, you're too young for coffee, but we can do other things. Don't worry about a thing, kiddo. We're best buds for life."

"Pinky promise?"

"Double pinky promise."

I admired Maya's naivete, how everything could simply be confirmed by making her pinky intertwine with someone else's. I remember those days; the days when you felt you could trust anyone and every apology was forgiven with the offering of a bouncy ball to play with.

And about 10 minutes away, a female friend was playing with a male friend's balls.

"Oh Leslie, don't stop!"

Michael Florence and Leslie Lawrence finished up the ball game and lay down beside each other in the play pen.

"So...that was fun."

"Yeah. I really missed this."

They lay in silence for a moment before Michael broke it.

"So, I was thinking--I know you said you wanted to keep us on the D.L. and not go to prom, but, well, are you sure you don't want to go?"

"Michael, we went over this. I don't want a huge commotion made about us."

"Ah who gives a shit about a huge commotion? This isn't about them, right?"

"But we're not a couple. People ask me if I'm single and I say yes. Don't you?"

"Lots of friends go to prom together."

"Those friends don't have the benefits we have."

"So what, all we are is friends with benefits?"

"This is EXACTLY what I was afraid would happen if we started things up again! You're getting attached!"

"Well excuse me for thinking that there was still something there between us!"

"What made you think there was?"

"We didn't break up because we stopped loving each other! We broke up because we lost a kid that we never should have been having anyway!"

When he saw Leslie's face, he immediately regretted what he had just said.

"Leslie, I--"

"Just go."

"Please, let me just--"

"No. Just get out of my house. I can't believe I actually thought this was a good idea."

Without another word, Michael walked out the front door, got into his Jeep, and drove away. Needless to say, an emergency meeting with Aaron Stanwick, Mark Adams, and me at the Coffee Plantation was called to order.

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You and Leslie have been kinda sorta back together for a month?"

"No, not back together. Just sleeping together. Secretly."

"Nice!"

"Mark, if there was ever an inappropriate time to high five someone commending them for a purely sexual relationship, that would be now."

"Sorry."

"So anyway, she said some things, I said some things, and then she kicked me out."

"What exactly did you guys say?"

"She said that we broke up because there were no feelings there and I said that we broke up because we lost a baby we never should have been having."

We fell silent.

"I know, it was a shitty thing to say, but nonetheless it's true, is it not?"
"Technically yes, but in her heart she felt that she was supposed to have that baby and raise it. Otherwise she would have gotten an abortion or put it up for adoption.

"Losing that baby was a tragic thing, and you made it sound like it was a relief."

"Okay, so what do I do now?"

"I don't know, you're usually the one we ask for advice."

We all chuckled a little bit at the idea that our free therapist was asking us what to do.

"Well, until we figure it out, let's move on to something else. Mark, how's Mal?"

"I don't know, we haven't spoken in two weeks."

"What? Oh my gosh, did you guys break up?"

"Not officially. It all started when I suggested that we go to her place for a change, and then she just left my house. We had bulshit conversations for the next week or so and then just stopped talking altogether. All because I wanted to see where she lives."

"Well, she's always been kind of secretive about her house. One time I offered to drive her home and she made me stop like 4 blocks away."

"Yeah, and I offered to drive her home from Dave's Hanukkah party and she said she would just walk."

"I don't get it! Why won't she let anyone in?"

"Maybe she's waiting for someone to have the right key."

"What, my dick's not good enough?"

"I'm sure your dick is fine--I can't believe I just said that--but what else have you offered to the relationship?"

"Well, I love her."

"But is that enough for her to let you all the way into her life?"

"It damn well should be!"

"Well, there's a lot of things that should be. The contraceptives should have been enough to protect us from getting pregnant, the baby should have been born, and I should be going to prom with Leslie next weekend, but none of that is going to happen, so we should all stop worrying about what should be and focus on what is."

"Great speech. How long were you working on it?"

"Five minutes."

"Nice."

The next day, Mark called Mal Wales to try and get to the bottom of her trust issues.

RING RING RING

Mal looked at the Caller ID and pressed the "Ignore" button.

"Who was that, honey?"

"No one."

Monday came too soon, but it was worth it knowing it was the first of only two Mondays we had left. AP tests had ended, and now we were in full force getting ready for the Showcase Concert.

Acme Choir's set was really cool--well--it had potential to be really cool. The theme was "Legends" and our choir's legend was none other than Michael Jackson. Our set started with "Thriller" (of course), followed by "Beat It," "Billy Jean," "Man in the Mirror," and ended with "Black or White." The music sounded great, the lighting was killer, and the choreography was legit. If only it actually looked good on stage.

"YOU HAVE A SHOW ON FRIDAY! DOES EVERYONE UNDERSTAND THAT?!?!?!"

And Miss Connolly was in a GREAT mood!

Since Aaron was Acme's class president, Miss Connolly turned to him to inspire us.

"Okay, so like Miss Connolly said, we have a show on Friday. Not just a concert--a show. We are called Acme because we're the top, and do you really want Novice Choir to kick our butts? Their rendition of 'Gypsy' by Fleetwood Mac is beautiful, and the rest of their set is awesome. They perform, then there's a Solo Act, and then it's us. And we're the last choir before the big finale! We're supposed to build the excitement, not crush it and force an exciting finale. So, for the next four days, let's give it everything we've got and after it's all over we'll go to Sonic and relax."

Sometimes I forget just how inspiring Aaron can be. Miss Connolly even cried a little bit.

The last Showcase Concert was not the only "last" that would occur that week. The next day, we distributed the final issue of The Summit Sentinal that would have my name down as Editor-in-Chief. My final "Letter from the Editor" was very inspiring as I discussed how the members of the Class of 2010 were about to go far beyond the school they've known for four years. It was a little cheesy, like a valedictorian speech, but it was my only chance to give the entire student body advice from a senior. It was so strange bringing the Sentinal to each classroom knowing that I would never distribute a high school newspaper again. It was a wake-up call that high school really was ending and that life was really about to start.

"So, last newspaper."

Callie Anderson and I were finally able to be on semi-good terms for the first time since our dramatic break-up.

"Yeah, I guess it is. How do you feel?"

"A little weird, but I was only on the staff for a year. You've been on it since you were a sophomore. How do you feel?"

"It's surreal, I guess. This publication has been a huge part of my life and now it's just over. By the way, I'm really happy with how the layout turned out. I shouldn't have been so harsh with you that day."

"You're right, you shouldn't have, but it's all good. We're graduating!"

"Amen to that."

I would be lying if I said that I didn't miss being in a relationship with her, texting her whenever anything was going wrong, and just feeling totally comfortable in her presence. But it was what it was and all I could do was remember the good times with a smile and accept that things were over.

Before we knew it, it was Friday, the big night! Were we ready? Kinda. Were we confident? Sorta. Were we excited? Not at all.

Miss Connolly gave us her annual pep talk, where she allowed us all the chance to say something to the rest of the choir so we all could have a good cry before the show. Then we all got backstage for the big opening number, "We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel, then the guys all got in our Elvis costumes for "Viva Las Vegas" and waited backstage. We watched Mal's Solo Act ("Me and Bobby McGee" by Janis Joplin), and as she walked offstage she walked right past Mark without even a word.

"Alright that's it."

And he chased after her.

"You can't avoid me forever."

Mal stopped in her tracks and reluctantly turned around to face Mark.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Awkward silence.

"We haven't talked in a while."

"I know. Uh, how are you?"

"Shitty. How are you?"

"Equally shitty."

"So, being that we both feel like shit, how can we help each other feel good again?"

"Mark, I can't do this."

"You can't do what? Be in a relationship? Because newsflash, we've been in one for five months!"

"I can't let you into my life the way you want me to."

"Why?"

"Mark, I love you, and I know you love me, and what we had was wonderful. But I can't let you judge me."

"Judge you? I just wanted to meet your parents and see where you live! Was that so much to ask?"

"I DON'T HAVE PARENTS!"

He was silent as he witnessed the tears form, breaking through her tough exterior.

"They died when I was 9 and I've gone from foster home to foster home ever since. I'm the oldest of the nine kids that live in the house. I knew that if you or anyone else saw the huge house you would get the wrong idea. I can't have you over at my house because it's not my house, and my foster parents never come to any of my concerts because all they care about is getting the check at the end of each month. So there, now you know. This is me. Feel free to judge."

Mark didn't say anything. He just walked forward, grabbed her, and kissed her. They just held each other for what felt like forever, bawling in each other's arms. They never wanted to let go, and they knew that nothing could ever tear them apart.

Except for the opening guitar riff of "Viva Las Vegas."

"Shit!"

"Go. I'll be waiting right here when you get back."

It was a crowd pleaser, just as we expected, and then intermission happened.

"Where the hell were you?"

"Making out with my girl."

"Nice!"

"That's great, man!"

"Thanks. Now, if you will excuse me we have more making out to do."

Mark ran toward his girlfriend, leaving the three of us single men to our devices.

"So, our last concert is half over."

"Insane, isn't it?"

"Seriously. How the hell did we get here?"

"I have no clue. It seems like only yesterday I walked into choir on the first day of sophomore year and there you guys were; the Three Amigos."

"Well, maybe we had been the Three Amigos since grade school, but it was much better once we became the Fantastic Four."

The three of us stood silently for a moment before we engaged in a group hug.

"Hey! You guys can't do a group hug without me!"

"Come here, dude!"

Mark joined us, and everything suddenly seemed complete.

"I love you guys!"

"Love you too, man!"

"It's just gonna be hard with us so far away from each other! Should we make some sort of pact that we'll always be together?"

"I don't think we really need one. I mean, how can we not be together?"

"Good point."

"And besides, with Facebook we can always stay connected!"

So we got into our costumes, performed our kick-ass Michael Jackson set, and then everyone joined us for our finale, none other than "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey. After our Senior Bow at the end of the curtain call, we all ran out to the lobby to greet everyone.

"Oh my gosh, you actually came!"

"Well, we saw that you had it on the calendar and we felt it was important for us to be there."

"This is just so unexpected! Um, this is my boyfriend Mark. Mark, these are my foster parents and foster siblings!"

"So nice to meet you Mark. Mal, we bought a cake to have at home in honor of your concert. Mark, would you like to come too?"

Mal gave Mark a nod of approval, so he said "Hell yeah!"

"Michael!"

Another surprise of the evening.

"Leslie? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see the concert and tell you how stupid I was! I love you! I want to be with you! I know we had our issues, especially at the very end, but I want to be the one in your arms at prom tomorrow night!"

"And what about everyone else?"

"Who cares? It's not about them, right?"

"Right."

The two shared a long embrace. I turned to Aaron.

"So, it looks like it's just you and me and a bunch of people we don't care about for Sonic tonight."

"Wanna go to The Coffee Plantation instead?"

"Sure."

So the show was a success, the happy couples were back together, and Aaron and I stayed at our favorite cofee shop until closing time, which was a ton of fun. The next night we all danced the night away at our senior prom, which was a much happier occasion than last year's prom. Afterward, we went over to Michael's and stayed up until 4 a.m. before crashing on the floor.

All that was left to do now was graduate.

David Adler

Normal High School Student

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."

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"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