Matt gets much more interesting as the novel progresses. In fact, I’d wager that he’s the most dynamic of the characters despite his narrative style being more economical than the others.

Chapter 11

Trapped

(MATT)

            And it’s now save to turn on all electronic devices. If you have a cell phone, you may use it. But make sure to keep your seatbelt on as we are still taxing in to the gate. And thank-you for choosing British Airways.

I adjusted in my seat for the thousandth time. I could not wait to get off that plane. I hadn’t been home since last Christmas. Plus, I never liked sitting in one place for too long. And I’m pretty sure that my Dad flew me in business class because I hadn’t made time for a trip home in almost a year.

I grabbed my backpack off the floor in front of me. I started to text Emma when I noticed that I had a few messages waiting. My sister. All of them were from S.J.

I started texting Emma anyway. Just got in. Miss you already. Then I deleted it. Too pathetic. Landed safely in NY. Just in case you were wondering. Nope. Too passive aggressive. I threw my cell back in my bag and put it on the floor. Why was I texting my ex-fiance again?

I let my head fall back onto the headrest and I checked out the window-view. Couldn’t see too much. It was drizzling so all I got were raindrops smeared across the window pane and the slick blacktop of the runway lit up all orange from the airport lights.

Then my phone beeped. Another text. I grabbed my bag, pulling it up between my knees, almost hitting the person next to me. I flipped the phone open. It was from Taylor. I clicked on the message to read it. u home yet? ur gonna flip when u hear this. Then nothing. I wasn’t too nervous though. Knowing Taylor it was probably some stupid shit like he got tickets to Monday Night Raw at the Coliseum.

The phone beeped again. The rest of Taylor’s message. we saw Kylie today. me and ben. wtf! It didn’t even register at first who Taylor was talking about. There was this girl Kaitlin at school in England who stalked Ben for our whole first semester. She was from the states too. From Texas. At first we all stuck together because of the American thing. But she turned out to be a complete psycho.  I laughed when I thought about how in love she was with Ben. Then I started thinking, where the hell would they have since Kaitlin Farris? I thought she was back in Texas, married already, probably with a kid too.

The lights went on in the cabin and I got up. My ass hurt like hell. And I had to pee so bad I got lightheaded when I looked at the empty water bottle the guy next to me left on the seat. I don’t go to the bathroom on planes. I hate the crammed space of that closet they call a bathroom even worse than I hate the urgency to pee. I grabbed my stuff and started shuffling off the plane with everyone else.

My damn phone went off again. This old lady who had been sitting behind me said, “Someone’s really trying to get in touch with you. Girlfriend?”

I tried to smile and said over my shoulder, “No, just my sister.”

“That’s sweet. Enjoy your Thanksgiving, dear.”

“Thanks. You too.”

I grabbed my phone and flipped it open again as I was walking up the ramp to the gate. It was Siobhan, of course. U took 2 long. So we parked. @ the luggage area now. How exactly did I take too long? Like I wanted to stay on the plane longer.

I started scrolling through some of the other texts. There were the ones from Taylor and then three more from Siobhan and one from my mom. The one from my mom was blank. She doesn’t know how to work her phone. Then I almost tripped on the escalator trying to retrieve all these stupid crytic texts.

I finally got to the earlier ones from Siobhan. The first one read like this: big surprise. call right away when u land. Suddenly I got really nervous. I rounded the corner and I could see the luggage claim in the distance. Surprises from my sister were never good. I toyed with the idea of going back to the plane. Maybe I could just get a flight back over to England. I scrolled down to the second text. This one was left five minutes after the first one. Siobhan was never great with keeping surprises a secret. ben saw Kylie today at school. she looks great. and she was nice.

That Kylie. Not the one from Texas.

I tried to get to the third message quickly but I accidentally went to the main menu instead. Shit, I said and I stopped walking for a moment. I stood there with people filing all around me and I read the third message, left about fifteen minutes after the second one. we have plans with her on sat yay J

I flipped my phone closed and shoved it in my pocket. I barely looked up when Siobhan almost mauled me.

“Mattie!” She hugged me, “I’m so psyched that you’re home.”

“Hey, bro.” Ben said. He took my backpack off my shoulder, “I’ll get that for ya.”

“Hey guys.” I tried to smile but those texts from Siobhan made me queasy. I looked at the luggage going around the carousel. It made me a little dizzy. “I’m going to get my stuff.” I walked away from them. Those text messages were really bad timing. Then I had a brilliant idea. I don’t have to go on Saturday. Just because my ex-girlfriend invited my sister and Ben out doesn’t mean that I have to go. I have other friends to have out with. I’ll just make other plans. In fact, I’ll just say I already had the fake plans.

I grabbed my suitcases and turned back to them. “I got your texts. I’m not going on Saturday. I already have plans.”

Siobhan’s smile fell off her face. She looked at Ben for help.

I absolutely love his anecdote in this chapter. It reminds of my days working on the Nutcracker at Sacred Heart and of more recent days working on the school musical with the wonderful students at Preston High School. Dance kids / theatre kids are such a unique breed. They are quirky and passionate about what they do.

P.S. In a few days, I’ll be posting Matt Tracy’s first appearance as a narrator. Don’t miss it.

Chapter 10

Wouldn’t It Be Loverly?

(BEN)

            I dropped off Taylor and started heading for Siobhan’s. But my mom called and I got detoured—pick up Adam at the train station. And then I got, why don’t you come here for dinner? When I protested, she used her maternal powers to glamour me. Pot Roast with a side of guilt.

By the time I got over to the Tracy mansion, it was really late. I couldn’t wait to see Siobhan. The last time I saw my fiancée was back in September. She came up for another wedding on Long Island. More high school friends getting hitched. Even with a wedding to plan, Siobhan puts school first. Jacquelyn would fly her up here every weekend but Siobhan won’t have it.

I walked in through the back door by the kitchen. Gunner was at the counter cutting up something for his dogs. Huge Dobermans. He nodded—the usual nod that means he doesn’t want to talk to me—and looked back at the cutting board. The dogs peered at me too, one eye on the meat in Gunner’s hands, one eye on the visitor. Before I could say any pleasantries, Gunner said, “Siobhan is in the media room” without looking up. “Thanks,” I muttered as I scooted by the Dobermans.

I went down to the basement and at the far end of the hallway, the TRacys had this awesome media room. It had a drop down screen and a projector and a bunch of built-in recliners. Siobhan was sitting dead center, DVDs and VHS tapes strewn all around her. A pad in her hand and two pens sticking out of her ponytail. She didn’t even noticed me come in. She was engrossed in the video. It was our junior year production of My Fair Lady. Me and Siobhan and Kylie were in it. Taylor made the tape for us. We had a good copy from the school but Taylor’s was much better. We got his idiotic commentary and Matt’s snarky remarks throughout the whole play. It was at a part where Kylie had to speak and the camera turned to Matt who watched intently. After about five awkward seconds of Matt on candid camera, Taylor said, “Kylie Baines takes the stage.” Then he pointed the camera at Matt’s crotch and added, “And Matt gets a boner.” Matt punched Taylor in the stomach and whispered loudly “Dude! Don’t be a dick.” The camera went back to the stage and back to Matt.

Then Matt snatched the camera out of Taylor’s hands and said, “Taylor, we got to tape this. Or else my brat sister will freak that we missed one second of her precious high school musical.”

Taylor laughed, “Bro, she’s gonna be pissed now anyway—you called her a brat on the tape.”

I leaned against the wall in the back of the room for a few minutes. I got kind of nostalgic myself. I just started thinking about how long Siobhan and I have been together, about how long everyone’s been friends.

*                      *                      *

It was only a week after the twins 15^th birthday party that I mustered up the confidence to ask out Siobhan. Well, I really didn’t ask her out on a date. She broke her wrist so I brought her flowers. It was my mom’s idea. I didn’t talk to my mom about that stuff—she just eavesdropped a whole lot. We called her the mole. Little by little she got her information, then she chose the right moment to strike. You know how Jewish mothers can be.

So, I brought Siobhan flowers in school. I gave them to her in homeroom. After she ripped out half the flowers she didn’t like (claiming allergies), she told me simply “yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

The next few weeks after that were pretty fun. We went out a lot with Matt and Taylor and Kylie. Taylor was a total fifth wheel and acted like a schmuck because of it.

Matt really only talked to Kylie. He even blew off me and Taylor. He would find things to tell her. I could tell he liked her. But Siobhan was the first to point it out. “Did you see how my sneaky brother muscled his way into sitting between me and Kylie? We always sit together. Always. Before you, Ben,” she muttered as we left the movie theatre one night. I laughed that she made a point of telling me that she would rather sit next to Kylie at the movies instead of me.

She went on, “And when we got to the movies, Matt even suggested the same movie Kylie told me she wanted to see this week in school. Did you notice how Taylor didn’t want to go see it and Matt ignored him? By the way, we are so the easy-going ones of the group, right? Everyone’s all obsessed with getting what they want all the time.” Siobhan is anything but easy-going. In fact, she gets pretty pissed when someone questions her easy-going-ness. But, I’m getting sidetracked.

By the time play practice was in full swing that year (meaning rehearsals everyday after school till 6:30 and on Saturdays for a few hours in the morning—OLV took the play really seriously), I could tell for myself that Matt liked Kylie. And Siobhan and me were fairly sure that Kylie liked Matt too.

One play practice, Matt even came to see Kylie. He would never be caught dead at play practice for two reasons:  one, he thought the play would make him gay and two, he feared the wrath of our music teacher Sister Paula.

Still, Matt Tracy came into the play practice (an obvious attempt at conquering his fears of the play’s transformative effects and Sister Paula). Announcing his arrival, he called to me from the back of the auditorium, “Ben, are you gay or something? What are you wearing?”

“He’s Professor Henry Higgins, Matt. Don’t you like the cool hat your mom donated?” Kylie replied. We walked up the aisle together. “Your mom donated these gloves too,” she moved her hands dramatically through the air to show off her costume.

“Hey, Kylie. You don’t have to come to his defense. I’m cool with Ben’s…lifestyle choice.” Matt said, trying to get a laugh.

“Lifestyle choice? Cute, Matt.” Kylie returned.

To antagonize Matt, I started singing a New Kids on the Block song. (Don’t judge me. Back in sixth grade, Matt said that “The Right Stuff” was the best song of all time. And he will never forget making that statement as long as myself and Taylor are around.)

“The first kiss was a sweet kiss. The second kiss had a twist. The third and the four kiss…I don’t wanna miss. I could see it in your walk…” I started singing loudly, channeling Jordan Knight.

“Oh my God. Everyone, this kid is definitely gay. He just busted out a New Kids song, dance moves and all,” Matt said, looking around if anyone else was watching my impromptu music video.

“Hey, Sister Paula, Ben’s got some awesome dance moves he wants to put in the play.” Kylie yelled across the auditorium. Sister Paula, who was directing practicing a scene with Siobhan and some other students, nodded like Kylie said something good then just brushed her off like “Yes, yes, dear, that’s a great idea…for later.”

“Kylie, don’t make her look over here. She hates me. She’s gonna scream if she sees me here.” Matt warned.

“Really, Matt?” Then to Sister Paula, “Sister, big news, Matt Tracy came to try-out for the play! You should let him be Ben’s understudy or something.”

“KYLIE!” Matt turned beat red. He backed into the darkness of the mezzanine. Then he whispered, “What are you trying to do?”

“So you didn’t come here to try out for the musical? Ben, I think that Matthew Tracy must be here to see yours truly. Did you come to see me, Matt?”

She hugged him. “Aww. Shh, don’t speak. I know you came to see me and I think you’re sweet. A little creepy, but sweet.” He didn’t hug her back but I could tell he was enjoying the attention. He’s just such a weirdo with his emotions sometimes. Maybe being in the play every year would have helped him “get in touch with his feelings” as S.J. would say. Siobhan says that I am very emotionally available. Sometimes I think that means she thinks I’m a big wimp but I’m not entirely sure.

“Kylie, hate to break it to ya but I’m here to pick up Siobhan. My mom is outside waiting.” He broke free of her hug. Kylie looked a little dejected. I had to step in and help her out.
“Matt, practice ends at 6:30.”

“So?”

“It’s 5:45.” I said, looking at my fake pocketwatch attached to my Henry-Higgins vest.

“Maybe my mom has it wrong.”

“Doubt it. Maybe she has it right.”  I thought I had him but I realized that made no sense. I still liked saying it. It felt all twilight-zone-ish.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know.” I replied. He had me there.

Siobhan walked up and started in on him. “Ooh, look who it is. Trying to get a sneak peak before opening night or…” Then with an overly dramatic turn of her head, she looked at Kylie, who was walking away by now.

“She’s right dude. Why are you such a loser sometimes?” I said.

“Why are you such a weenie all the time?” Siobhan pushed even more. “Ya know Matt, she totally likes you. She talked about you a few times today. She even defended you when I was making fun of you.”

“Thanks, sis. Glad to hear that you make fun of me with your friends in your spare time.”

“Don’t change the subject on me,” Siobhan narrowed her eyes.

“Who’s changing the subj…”

Siobhan interrupted him. All of sudden she got serious. Siobhan hates when people dance around an issue. “Matt, you’ve got one of the hottest girls in the school right there. I’m a girl and I think Kylie is hot. So, what’s up? Are you gonna man up and ask her out or are you just going to be a baby and make us all suffer?”

“Who is suffering? My God, Siobhan. You are such a drama queen. Kylie is nice. But…”

“But what?” Her eyes widened.

Matt looked over at Kylie who was down by the piano talking to some of the other kids in the play. “It’s just that. Kylie is nice and pretty.”

Siobhan was not going to let up, “Gee, Matt, I must be missing something then. Hmm. Ben, what is missing from this situation? Kylie is good-looking, nice, funny, and she likes Matt. Oh, and that last part is more than I can say for most girls, brother.”

“Siobhan, shut up and me finish.”

“Do it then!”

“Whatever.” Matt walked off. As he left, he said, “Mom’s outside.”

I followed him but Matt was already pissed, “Dude, leave me alone. I came in to hang out with everyone and…and I don’t want to be seen outside with you in your gay costume.”

“Matt, it’s a freaking suit.”

“You look like Sherlock Holmes or something,” he muttered.

“I’m Professor Henry Higgins! It’s like the biggest part in the show. I sing like three songs.”

“Whatever dude. You look like my dad then.”

“Listen, man, I know you don’t want to answer this question or hear any of this but why you don’t just ask her out.”

He sighed really big. He wasn’t cursing me out so I figured I’d continue, “Here’s what I see. And don’t look at me like that. You’re my boy for a long time now. When you talk to Kylie, you look like you’re happy talking to her. When you look at Kylie, you look like you like what you’re looking at. This doesn’t have to be as difficult as you’re making it.”

“You just want me to ask out Kylie because that will complete our little double-date quadrangle or whatever.”

“What the fuck is a quadrangle?”

“It’s a triangle with four sides.”

“Isn’t that a square?”

“Whatever, screw it. Point is—you just want me and Kylie to go out because you and Siobhan are going out.”

“No. See that’s where you’re wrong. Me and Siobhan want you and Kylie to go out because clearly you and Kylie want to be going out.”

“She doesn’t like me.”

“Yeah, she does.”

“She likes people like Bret  Dillon.”

“Wow, Matt, you are so clever. That’s exactly right. She likes stupid meatheads who cheat on her. She must be waiting for the next Bret Dillon to come along.”

“Whatever man.”

Just then, Kylie came outside to get me. I couldn’t have asked for a better coincidence. “Benny! Sister Paula wants you inside. You have to do some song with one of the seniors.”

“Okay.” And then I had a brilliant idea so I said,  “Hey, Kylie!”

“What? Benny, it’s freezing. Come inside.” She laughed and jogged to keep warm.

“Kylie, come here. Matt wants to talk to you about…something.” I tried to think of something good to fill the “something” but I wasn’t as quick as I am now. So, I just ran away so I could get to the door before Matt started in with me.

“Ben, what the?” Matt scrambled to find an excuse but Kylie was walking towards him.

As I walked away I heard Kylie say something about going inside to talk. Then I heard Matt say, “Here, take my jacket. You look cold.”

                                    *                                  *                                  *

            “Ben…Ben…Uh, Ben.”

“What?” I started walking toward Siobhan who was peering at me over her shoulder, a little confused and a little annoyed.

“I called your name like fifty times. You were totally zoned out.”

“I guess.” I leaned in and she kissed me firmly on the lips. Then she half stood up from one of the recliners in the media room and gave me a hug. “I missed you, Benny.”

“I missed you too, babe.” Then I looked at the tapes, “What have you got here?”

“Like you don’t know,” she pushed my shoulder gently. “I was just watching your spectacular performance as Henry Higgins. Rex Harrison would be jealous.”

“Very funny. What are you doing with all these?”

“I’m finding some footage or the video montage. You know. The video montage we’re playing during the cocktail hour?”

I didn’t know about any audio-visual aids Siobhan had planned for the wedding. But I just nodded like I knew exactly what she was talking about. “Nice, S.J. It will be really nice.”

“You have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” She squinted a bit and pretended to get mad, then smiled.

“Nope.” I laughed.

“Well, I’m trying to find some video of us. I thought it would be nice to show people how long we’ve been together.” Then she pushed a few tapes around on the floor. She picked up a few of them and groaned, “But you wouldn’t believe how much video we have of Matt and Kylie.” Siobhan gestured real big with her hands (something dramatic was coming), “It’s like they were the only focus of our lives. Like we were all just moons orbiting the Matt and Kylie sun. Like we were cameos in some big romantic comedy about them. Stupid one-sided supporting characters.” She stopped, “What? You don’t agree with me.”

“I just don’t think that the sun has moons orbiting it. But I could be wrong.”

“That’s not the point, Ben. And now you made plans with her for Saturday. And we have to trick my brother into going. And then get them back together.”

There was no use in even attempting to deny Siobhan this project. There was no use in pointing out that she just complained about her brother and his ex-girlfriend consuming her life. There was only one thing I could do in this instance—change the subject.

“Did your brother land yet?” (Okay, it wasn’t a complete subject change.)

“Oh shit. He’s totally landing in like ten minutes. I’ve got to get going.” She shuffled the tapes into a pile and starting pulling on her boots. I didn’t even flinch.

“Isn’t your dad sending the car?”

“No, I told Daddy I wanted to pick up Matt.” She pulled some cushions aside and grabbed her cell phone.
“Siobhan, you and the airport and the driving and the nighttime are not a good combination.”

“Shut up.” She returned as she pulled her head through the neck of a gray cashmere sweater. Siobhan looked at her phone and said to herself, “No text back yet.”

“What?”

“Matt didn’t text me back yet. I sent him a text about how you saw Kylie and we are going out on Saturday.”

“I thought we needed to trick him into coming on Saturday.”

“We can still do that. That’s why you’re going to come with me.” She tossed her car keys at me. “We can work out a plan on the way to JFK.”

“If you already told him, Kylie Baines is going to be there, he’s not going to come.” I complained as I followed her up the stairs.

She stopped and abruptly turned, “Correction. That’s precisely why he will come.” She pointed at herself then I me, “See. Half full. Half empty.”

I called him “Diablo” because of his yellow Lamborghini, not because I was trying to be symbolic or anything serious like that. Growing up on Long Island, I knew a few guys whose nicknames reflected their cars. No one had a Lambo, mind you. But at Gino’s in Elmont where I worked all through high school and most of college, I knew a Joey Beamer and a Joey Lex. That last one might have been a Johnny Lex. I don’t remember. Incidentally, I never drove a cool enough car to get a nickname. No one wanted to hang with a “Kristin 1989 Nissan Sentra,”I guess. And because we are probably getting a Chrysler Town & Country after our current lease is up, I suspect I won’t be getting a cool car nickname anytime soon.

Anyway, so this Diablo is a pretty important supporting character. But I’ll leave it to you to decide if his intentions toward Kylie are devilish.

Don't we all need a car with doors that open upwards?

Chapter 9

Shaking in My Boots

(KYLIE)

            Finally in bed. Soft sheets tucked tightly under the mattress and a dark room—I loosened up my body.  I switched positions multiple times then just let my bones drop. Enough trying to fix things. Besides, I always end up in the first position: on my back, the pillow cupped around my head with my hands lying on the top of my stomach.

I tried to sleep but it wasn’t long before my mind wandered over the events of the night, replaying and analyzing them, wishing I could edit out certain parts like my life was a film.

It had been an interesting night. “Interesting”—it’s one of those ambiguous words that could go either way. And in this particular case, the night had its genuinely enjoyable moments and its completely awkward ones.

We didn’t go to Lot 61 after all. Colette called and told me that she realized making plans with “The Dip” without my knowledge was wrong. She apologized and said that we would just go out together, just us. I couldn’t believe she had the guts to break plans with him—I never broke plans with him. That’s for sure. But, she told me she didn’t break plans at all. According to her, she just flirted her way out it. Yeah, sure.

And we weren’t completely off the hook anyway. My cousin told Thade that I didn’t want to go to Lot 61 because I had been there just a week ago. A complete lie—everyone knows that the place has only been open a matter of months and it’s nearly impossible to get a reservation. Of course, The Dip asked who I went with, but she told me she “coyly evaded his question” (which probably meant she pretended like the cell reception was bad).

As we sat in the large master bathroom of my uncle’s city apartment, Colette pulled my wavy hair through a straightening iron and recollected the rest of her genius plan. She instructed Thade that we were to dine at Cipriani’s and no where else would be acceptable. There’s just one problem: Cipriani’s is not the hardest place to get a reservation. It’s pricey but it’s a huge place. Of course you could get a reservation.  Thade had one of his boys call back quickly after his conversation with Colette. Cipriani’s at 9 p.m. Did we need to be picked up?

I was grateful, however, that my cousin made even that much of an effort to escape our dinner plans. Colette always had my best interest at heart—well, she had her best interest first but I was a close second.

Cipriani’s was, as I said, interesting. Thade didn’t just get us a table, he reserved a whole section of the restaurant. I sighed as we walked in and he stood up to greet us looking at the section as if to say, “See what I can do.” He then glanced at his friends commanding them to stand for the two ladies entering the room. Colette grabbed my hand and whispered “Whoa, Big Dip” in my ear then tried not to laugh.

When I got up close, Thade drew me in for a kiss then said, “I figured you would want some privacy after the eventful morning.” He directed me to a seat next to him and put Colette at the other end of the table. I wanted to sit next to her—it was an eventful morning—but she looked pleased sitting next to Gabriel,  practically bathing in all his attention.

After he ordered for the whole table, Thade turned to me and took my hand. “I want you to know that everything will be fine—with you uncle,” he whispered.

“I hope so,” I managed, not wanting to think about my uncle’s current situation.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“You’ll…?” I stopped myself. I smiled weakly and said, “Thanks but I think Blaise and I can handle it. It’s really up to our lawyers anyway.”

“Do you really want your uncle to sit in a cell while some lawyers chip away at this case?” He kind laughed then said, “I said I would take care of it. Don’t worry.”

I spent the whole rest of the evening worrying. I wanted to tell him to stay out of it. I wanted to scream at him that I had this under control. He was such an opportunistic asshole. But I just inhaled deeply and repeated to myself that he could be very helpful. Maybe my uncle had something worked out with him. Maybe Blaise had something worked out with him. And honestly, I didn’t feel prepared myself to deal with this. I could run my uncle’s businesses—especially the front of the clubs. I could hire people, fire people, throw parties for his associates, charm the pants off the Italians when they came around. I even got in some of the backend. I helped him make a few deals these past months. But this? This was serious shit. We’re not the type of operation that had a business plan, or weekly conference calls, or “plan Bs”.

Then I thought of the worst—what if we didn’t have enough money to cover this? Shit, I didn’t know exactly how much we had. I knew where some of it was. Blaise had already gotten to it upstate. What if my uncle needed Thade for some reason? If Uncle Denis needed Thade, then he needed me to keep Thade happy. My stomach felt like it was eroding from the inside out all night after that.

I really wanted to put all this from my mind and get some sleep—but money issues just kind of creep up on you, don’t they? I thought about my family’s money—how much of it is wasted, how much of it we would need to spend on this case. It was weird but Ben popped into my brain just then. He was marrying Siobhan Tracy. He would never have to worry about money.

A wave just came over my body. It wasn’t painful, just a rush of feeling. It felt like I was blushing—but all over my body. I pushed the sheets off me and spread my arms out on the bed. The word “Tracy” brought it on. I’ve had worked pretty damn hard at keeping that name in a darker corner of my mind.

Just then Colette flung the bedroom door open.  Her silhouette was shaking a little. Another voice was ricocheting all the way from the kitchen through the hallway behind her.

“Blaise—Shut up for a second! Kylie—something’s happened.” She whimpered. She had been crying but was trying to compose herself.

“What’s the matter? Is Blaise here right now?” I looked at my watch on the bedside table. It was only 11:45 pm. Dinner ended early and I needed to crash so we just came back to the apartment.

“Yeah. Um. Kylie…” Colette started.

“Turn on the news, Kylie!” Blaise pushed his way through the threshold.

“Will one of you please tell me what happened? You’re scaring me.” I cried.

“Just turn on the FUCKING NEWS! I just spent the whole day driving all over the place. Don’t ask questions,” he screamed. Blaise’s normally ruddy complexion had deepened and his face was glistening with sweat.

Colette grabbed the remote and found the channel. We all watched.

Now, this is just in… Brice Baptiste made a statement earlier today about how he would stay out of his father’s case. However, District Attorney James LoCicero alluded to Brice’s involvement in his press conference held earlier this evening. It seems Denis Baptiste, Jr.’s son will be playing more of role than he let on. A lady in a red suit read the news with a smirk on her face.

            That’s right. Baptiste, Jr., who is facing multiple charges from tax evasion, exhortion, and murder in the first degree, will battle for his freedom once again. And this time it will be against his own son. District Attorney LoCicero has waited for this day for a long time.  The man in the gray suit with an American flag pin on the lapel continued the report.

            Looks like the Baptistes have found themselves in another sticky situation. Red suit was smug.

A few pictures of Uncle Denis from years ago flashed on the screen. The gray suit read his lines,  Well, they’re no strangers to the courtroom. Back in 1988, the leader of the Baptiste crime family faced charges that would have put him in prison for a long time. This time the D.A. is not stopping with the crimes of his father—other Baptiste family members may be indited as well. I can’t help but wonder if Brice Baptiste will be behind the arrests of his brother Blaise and cousin Kylie Baines, better known as Styles Baptiste.  The man in the gray suit sneered—you’d think he knew us all personally or something. And he acted like he was talking about some local dog show. Jesus!

The lady in the red suit announced, Let’s take a look at the Assistant District Attorney’s press conference.

They cut to a video clip of Brice, in an immaculate suit as usual, answering questions amongst shouting reporters and bright flashes.
This is a very sensitive situation for myself and my family. And I love my family but I love our country and our justice system too. A clear message must be sent to the people of this city that organized crime on any level will not be tolerated. And murder will not go unpunished. Now, if you’ll excuse me. No more questions. Thank-you.

A journalist bellowed from the crowd, Will you seek to punish your father to the fullest extent of the law?

As I said earlier, I will not be involved in this case. Please, no more questions. Brice nodded and turned from the podium.

As Brice started to walk out, another reporter chimed in Will you go after other members of your family like Blaise Baptiste and ‘Styles’ Baptiste?

Brice turned and sharply said, Rest assured that every member of the Baptiste family that was involved in the crimes of my father will be punished accordingly.

Just then, the clock radio from my bedside table was hurled right past the side of my face. The radio broke into pieces as it hit the TV set. The plasma screen flashed a few different colors then just went black. Blaise was picking up a chair when Colette screamed at him, “Blaise! Please! STOP!”

“Blaise! you have to calm down,” I stood up out of bed and faced him. His chest was heaving and his face was searing hot.

“How can I calm down when that self-righteous bastard is leading the prosecution team?” Then he pointed at the broken TV as if it was his brother, “You’re dead to me! You’re not a Baptiste! You motherfucking self-righteous prick!”

“Blaise! Calm down. Please calm down.” I said. I sat back down. Hearing my name on the nightly news made me feel unbalanced. Colette started crying,“How could he do this? It’s his father too.”

“Because he’s not a real Baptiste, Colette. He’s a fucking asshole who happens to be our brother. He’s a fucking jerk!” Blaise was screaming again. Then he huffed, “He always has been. Ever since I can remember.”

“Blaise, please, you’re not helping.” I yelled.

“And speaking of helping, I’ve been helping all fucking day. I went upstate, met with the lawyers, all while you played student and had dinner with your boyfriend.”

“Don’t take it out on Kylie!” Colette fired back.

“Listen, we’re all pissed about this. But it does nothing to…” I started.

“Are you pissed about this?” Blaise walked towards me, finger wagging in my face, “You seem pretty fucking calm to me. Did you know about this shit already? Because I’ve been in the car all fucking day and…”

“I know you’ve been in the car. You don’t have to remind me,” I threw my hands up like I was holding a hungry tiger at bay. I took a deep breath, “Yes, I did know about Brice. He called me this morning after the arrest—presumably before he talked to the press.”

I tried to explain further but Blaise had abandoned himself—self-destructing, jumping ship. He was only hearing white noise.

He nearly screamed at me, “What THE FUCK? Were you going to share this information with me and Colie?”

“Of course, if you’d just calm down and quit throwing shit, Blaise.” I stood up from the bed again and raised my voice so it almost matched his—Blaise responded to volume.

“Well, what did my asshole brother say when he called you, then?”

“He said we should cooperate with him and his boys down at the city courts.”

“What else? That smug piece of shit.”

“Nothing much else. He was calling to gloat—like he had captured some big prize. He’s always been a sanctimonious prick—that’s no fucking surprise. We don’t need to worry about him right now. Don’t you see? This is the District Attorney’s way of riling our family. The D.A. did this on purpose. It’s all to get media attention.”

“Well, fuck the D.A.! It’s like his pathetic life’s work is to take out my dad. And he is no motherfucking mastermind. I should’ve beat the shit out of him when I had the chance.”

Colette piped up, “Oh, that would have gone over great, Blaise. You assaulting the D.A. in a restaurant with everyone watching.”

“SHUT-UP, COLETTE! You don’t know shit.” She sunk down onto the bed and looked at me.

“Your father has beat charges before.” I kept on. It was in my best interest (and my uncle’s) to get Blaise calm. Blaise can be very effective. He’s older than me and he’s been working for his father since he got out of high school.

“These charges are more serious though.” Colette whined.

“But they still have to make it stick. And they’ll need good witnesses. You can’t just put someone away for murder without considerable evidence.”  I didn’t believe my own voice—especially because I knew exactly who they would get as a witness.

“One of the charges is for the murder of Jeff Esposito—what if they can get Mark to testify?” Blaise said.

“I don’t, I don’t know.” I was getting so anxious myself though. I hated Brice for this.

“Stop telling me to calm down.” Blaise spoke in an alarmingly calm way. “You’re ex knows a lot about us, Kylie.” He bent over a little bit and continued like I was a third grader, “And you know who else knows a lot about us? My fucking brother. You’ve got my brother and your ex. That’s a lot more than a bunch of suits down at the city courts.”

We were all silent. Blaise sank into a large armchair across the room. He looked at the TV and shook his head. I looked around the room—like I was going to find the answer to my problems written on the walls or something. Colette sniffled and after awhile said, “Oh my God, Kylie, I can’t believe Brice is gonna arrest you and Blaise too. What the fuck? I mean, does he ever want us to speak to him again?”

Blaise answered before I could try to console her, “Colette, nobody is going to speak to him again. And if you think he gives a shit, you’re fucking dreaming. He’s got his little wife Rebecca and her family. Think about it—how often do we see Brice? Never. He’s a pig in shit with his in-laws. The fucking picture-perfect Carricks. And that District Attorney—man, that guy must have seen his whole fucking career turn around when young Brice Baptiste, fresh out of law school, walked in and wanted to work for the good guys.” Blaise was right. That was the sad part.

When he said the name “Carrick,” I gulped and felt it in the very bottom of my stomach. I did not need to be reminded that Ben and Brice were brother-in-laws. This was all getting too incestuous. I wondered if I should tell Blaise that I saw Ben. But why? I started to feel dizzy so I propped myself up on the headboard for support.

Blaise looked at me, “You’re right Kylie—about the D.A. alluding to Brice’s involvement. He’s trying to get attention. He must think that the public will be more, I don’t know, involved this way. It’s not just a court drama—now it’s a family drama.”          “Do you see why it’s maybe not the best idea though?” I asked. “By pitting father against son, he’s making your brother look like the guy who won’t stand by his family. We all know Denis Baptiste is no saint. Grandpa wasn’t either. But, they’ve both done a lot for their communities. That will count for something.”

“Did you see in the paper too—how they are trying to make us look bad because we have a French last name? I mean half of us have never even been to France. What’s that about? They’re trying to make us look like we’re not American or something. Like we’re sneaky.” Colette looked better now.

I stared at the broken TV and said, “I can’t believe Brice really did it. Well, I guess I can. He told me once that he was disgusted with your father but I never thought he’d have the stones to go through with it on this level.”

“Kylie, we’ll let the lawyers will take care of it.” Blaise was totally spent from his reeling. He turned one last time as he exited the room and looked at the television and the mess he’d made, and said, “Don’t worry really. I mean it. Both of you—don’t worry.”

I nodded and half-smiled as he left. I really wanted to talk to Uncle Denis at this point. He always knew what to do.

“I’m going to bed. I am so tried. My feet hurt like hell from those damn boots of yours.” Colette sat next to me on the bed and smiled.  I was happy to change the subject.

“Serves you right. Maybe you’ll think twice before wearing them again. You better ask me next time.”

“Oooh. I’m shaking in my boots—get it? Besides, what’s going to happen to me if I do wear your stupid shoes again? The tough bitch Styles Baptiste is gonna beat me up, huh?”

“Shut up, Colie.”

“You gonna come after my car with a baseball bat?”

“Shut up, Colie.” This time it was louder. My crappy love life clearly amused her in some sadistic way.

“What if I…” Boom. She slammed me in the head with a pillow. I almost fell off the bed. Colette ran to the door—a safe distance away from me.

“You are so lucky I’m tired right now.” I laughed.

“C’mon then.”
“You’re a total douche. You have to know that.” I picked the pillow up off the floor and slammed my head down on it. She laughed and left the room.

I went to Sacred Heart Academy on Long Island, an all-girls Catholic college prep school. Our Lady of Victory is loosely based on Sacred Heart (emphasis on the loosely).  In my book, Chancellor High School (based on the real life Chaminade in Mineola) burns down and its students have to scramble for places at neighboring schools. That means all-girls OLV has to take on several boys (sons of major donors mostly) so that everyone’s education isn’t interrupted and so that OLV can save face in Catholic New York.

This would NEVER have happened at SHA. And while I’m sure “teenager me” would have loved it if it did,  “adult me” is very happy to have spent my high school years at a same-sex school. I don’t think I’d be writing this book and publishing it on my blog if I hadn’t attended Sacred Heart. My SHA girls will know what I’m talking about. We’ve got major chutzpah.

Chapter 8

Kylie’s Back

(BEN)

            “Dude, it’s Siobhan., I got to get this,” I said to Taylor as my phone rang. He wouldn’t agree to go home until we got some food. He said that we’d be in traffic forever on the Hutch waiting to get over the bridge. I had no idea where to eat in the Bronx so I just stopped at this diner we saw.

“Come on.” Taylor whined.

“Taylor, go start eating. You are like the hungriest dude I know and yet you’re a fucking skeleton. Look at you, man.” He went in but I stayed in the lobby of the restaurant. I wanted to tell someone who actually cared that I saw Kylie Baines today.

“Whatever. Tell her I said ‘what’s up.’ I’m goin’ inside.”

I waved Taylor on and flipped my phone open, “Hey, did you get in all right? How was the flight from D.C.?”

“It was fine. I’m home now. Mom picked me up at LaGuardia and then we had some lunch at the club.” Siobhan answered. “So, I know you’re busy today and up in the Bronx but I wanted to call real quick. When you get back to Long Island, call me because my mom has all these questions about the engagement party.”

“Wait a minute, you and your mom are planning this party. I am coming as a guest. Remember?”

She laughed, “I know. I’m sorry you had to go to the florist with her this week. She was driving me crazy about some special rose they got in.”

“Yeah, not fun, S.J.”

“You know you liked it.” She joked. I hadn’t seen her in months. Even though we were still just talking on the phone, I felt like I could picture her smile so vividly. She continued, “Still there? My brother is coming in tonight.”

“Matt’s coming in this weekend?”

“Yeah and is staying home for like forever.”

“I forgot he graduated early.” Matt had finished school this past May but had been traveling around Europe with his girlfriend (or was she his officially his fiancé now?) ever since.

“Yep, I was always the smart twin and yet Matt graduates early.”

“You still are the smart twin.  You’re just not the efficient twin. I can’t believe Matt is home already. I wasn’t expecting to see him until the spring for the wedding.”

“For his best friend and his college roommate, you never seem to know much about his plans.”

I was only roommates with Matt for like a year. We went into different programs and all the housing got screwy. “Matt has been attached to Emma for the past—I don’t know—at least six months. Didn’t you have a question to ask me?”

“No, my mom has to ask you. It’s about ordering Jewish food or something for the engagement party.”

“Jewish food?’

“Kosher food options for your mother’s family.””

“Why don’t you just tell your mom to call my mom about the Kosher stuff. You know I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know. Do you remember that time that you ordered shrimp with cream sauce when we took your Grandma out to lunch? I thought she was going to die.”

“Yeah, bad move, huh? Whatever, she never liked me the best anyway.”

“Nothing like putting another nail in that coffin.” I could hear her take a slurp of some drink.

“Whatever. Oh shit, I left Taylor waiting in there.”  Taylor was staring at me creepily over the top of a menu.

“In where?”

“We’re at the diner.”

“Okay,  I’ll see you later then.” She was about to hang up.

“Oh, hold up one second, I forgot to tell you who I saw today. No, wait, I’ll tell you later.” I realized it would be much more fun to tell this story in person. Siobhan loved gossip or anything scandalous. What could be better than seeing Matt’s ex-girlfriend for the first time since senior year of high school on the day her uncle was arrested for murder? Nothing.

“Ben! You know I hate it when you do that—even though your story or who you saw is never good.”

“This time it is.”

“Well—who?”

“Taylor’s waiting—I’ll tell you later.”

“Uh, Taylor can wait if this is good.”

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t keep someone waiting this long.”

“Ben!” She squealed.

“Kylie Baines.”

“What?!” I think Siobhan almost choked on her drink. After she recovered, “How was she? What did you say to her?”

“I said,  ‘Kylie, where have you been for the past three years? We used to be such close friends and then you started hanging out with drug dealers.”

“You said that? Oh my God, Ben. She is going to have us killed.”I knew this would put Siobhan in a talespin. I can’t believe she bought that line.

“She’s not going to have us killed. She’s going to have her uncle have us killed.” I said to keep this going.

“Shut up! Did you really say that to her? Oh my God, Ben. Please tell me you didn’t say that.” She was talking a mile a minute. She knew I didn’t say that—still, Siobhan wasn’t one to go without confirmation.

“Yes, S.J., I really called her out like that after three years of not talking to her. Right in front of the elevator in Darcy Hall. It was as good as anytime to do it. I told her that you said she was a bitch for never emailing or calling you down in D.C. too.”

“No you didn’t. Can you stop screwing around and tell me what she said?”

“I thought you wanted to hear what I said?” I loved it when she was excited about this. She was probably twirling her hair real fast and pacing from side to side. And I’m sure this conversation had piqued her mother’s interest too. No doubt my future mother-in-law was only a few feet away.

“Ben!”

“Alright!—don’t get your bra all twisted. I told her that it was great to see her. I told her that we were getting married.”

“What did she say to that?”

“I think she was a little surprised that she wasn’t your maid of honor, babe.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Just kidding. But, I think she was surprised that we were still together.”

“What else?” She was in rapid fire mode.

“Well, it was a short conversation. She looked like she was in a hurry. But we are getting together on Saturday night.”

Siobhan’s voice hit a high note, “What? Really?” I could tell she was shocked at the whole situation, a little annoyed that I made plans without consulting her, yet kind of excited about getting to see Kylie.

“Well, we are going to the Loose Moose and she said she would put us on the list.”

“The Loose Moose? She’d put us on the list? What is she? Like the fucking mayor or something?”

“Siobhan, don’t get mad. She was being nice. You yourself said that you missed her—just the other day you talked about her.” I knew she’d be upset about having to hang out at a club. My fiancé really never got over how her friendship with Kylie fizzled. No fight. No big drama. Just fizzle.

“I’m not mad. I just don’t see why we can’t just hang out with her.”

“Maybe you need to face it that Kylie might not want to be best friends again. I mean your brother did…well, whatever.” I wasn’t going to go there just then. “We are hanging out with her on Saturday—it’ll just be at her club.” I kind of wondered if I had done the right thing—maybe I shouldn’t have made plans with Kylie.

“No, it will be like the last time we hung out with her. Do you remember that?”

“Listen, I really got to go. Taylor just flipped me off from the table.”

“Is he coming? On Saturday?”

“Yeah, he was there for the whole conversation. Matt should come too.”

“Like Matt will come out to Kylie’s place.”

“He should come. I think we might have fun. Like I said, she seemed nice.”

“He’s too embarrassed to come.”

“I’ve never heard your brother say he was embarrassed—about anything. Besides, like Kylie still hates Matt for shit that happened in high school.”

“I know…we should get them back together.” Siobhan spoke as if the metaphorical lightbulb had just lit up over her head.

“What? No, you have enough to plan in your own life. Don’t worry about your brother’s or a girl who you’ve barely spoken to for the past three years.”

“Whatever, I love projects. This could be the Greatest. Project. Of My LIFE.” She affected an announcer’s voice. I smiled as I thought that she would spend the rest of the afternoon adding items to her wedding “To Do” lists. Except this time they would all revolve around getting Kylie and Matt in the same room.

“It’s not ‘the greatest project of your life.’ You have a wedding to plan, me to boss around, and a party-crazy mother to keep at bay. And besides all that, Matt is with Emma.”

“So? I hate her.”

“You don’t even know her. You’ve only seen pictures.”

“I hate the pictures.”

I smiled as I got off the phone. I mean, the thought had entered my mind. But trying to get Kylie and Matt back together – two people who are orbiting in totally different worlds – was a dumb idea. It was just a little nostalgia. Me and Siobhan were always suckers for nostalgia.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be friends with Kylie again. And I honestly did want Matt to come on Saturday. And I wanted him, and Kylie, and everyone else to have a good time. I have this weird need for everyone to be cool, you know?  Everything needs to be copasetic. Plus, I learned in college that sometimes the people you made friends with in high school are the ones worth keeping. The friends who knew you first are the ones who knew you best.

Taylor and I ate. Taylor stopped complaining with an order of chicken tenders (with both honey mustard and ranch), an order of fries topped with mozzarella cheese, and a salad in front of him. Who gets a salad with all that? I had some French onion soup. I tried to have some of Taylor’s fries but he nearly growled at me when I reached over. “Dude! You said you didn’t want them when we ordered!”

We got in the car and Taylor was right—the traffic on the Hutch was disastrous. But of course after all that freaking food, the guy needed a nap. I looked over at him and he had pulled his Starter cap over his face. I shook my head. Taylor was like a kindergartner…or maybe a sea monkey.

So, it was just me and traffic. I played some music but if I can’t blast the songs, I really don’t want to listen to them. With nothing else to distract me from the monotony of brake lights, I started thinking about high school…again.

*                                  *                                  *

            There we were—in my mom’s SUV going to Matt and Siobhan’s house for their birthday party. Kylie and I were at play practice (all day Saturday—I’d say “what a drag” but I was a sucker for the plays in high school).

I was pretty excited about the party. Jacquelyn Tracy was known for her parties and just because we were a bunch of teenagers, I was sure this would be no exception. Plus, Matt and Siobhan’s birthday was at the end of January. I’m sure by that time, after the two months of holiday parties, Jacquelyn was itching for something to plan.

I was kind of even hoping that there would be alcohol at this party. For some reason, even back then, the Tracys always struck me as a little unscrupulous. And if Jacquelyn or Gunner didn’t get the booze, I though maybe Matt and Siobhan’s older brother Sean might help us out.

I remember my mom going over all her “rules” with me. She even included Kylie in her lecture. I’m sure that’s the last thing Kylie wanted to hear after five hours of Godspell rehearsal on a Saturday but she quietly sat through it.  I could hear her giggling from the backseat when my mom was giving me examples of my past behavior.

“I hope he never did that at your house, Kylie.”

“Nope. Never, Mrs. Carrick.”

“You should call me Mara. I mean we’re practically family aren’t we?”

We weren’t really family at all.  Or maybe we were. I’m just not sure what you would call it. My sister Rebecca was married to Brice Baptiste, Kylie’s first cousin. Yeah, that Brice Baptiste. He was on the news quite a bit today too.

“Oh, Benji, she is just too cute.” My mom was apparently hellbent on humiliating me. “I remember the first time you came to my house. I told Benji I thought you were perfect for him.”

“Maaaah…please!”

Kylie laughed, “I think he’s more into Siobhan Tracy.”

“What’s this? Are you really into Siobhan? ‘Into?’ I don’t know what you kids say these days.”

“We don’t say anything, Ma. Look. You’re gonna miss the turn.”

Not that my mom could possibly miss the Tracy property. Every time I pulled up to the Tracy’s home was like an out-of-body experience. (Still is, to be honest.) They had a callbox—the only family in our group of friends to have that.  It’s totally cliché but they had guard dogs too. Well, not really guard dogs. Gunner liked Dobermans so he had like three of them. They were special too—all German-trained. They knew commands in both German and English. I swear my future father-in-law trained them to hate any guy who wanted to date his only daughter.

The house was a large white Georgian colonial with black shutters and a black double-door with a gold knocker. It was a really symmetrical-looking building. They had extensions done in brick put on both sides—one was for guest rooms and the other was for Gunner’s office and Jacquelyn’s gallery.

It had this long front porch with big columns too. They had all these stairs leading up to the front porch (I still have the Junior Prom photo where the moms lined us up on them—girls on one side and guys on the other, like it was a freaking wedding). Even though it was January, the columns were still decorated for the holidays with stuff wrapped around each one. It looked like the freaking White House I swear.

When we got there, we made a joke about climbing those ridiculous stairs. Kylie who usually wasn’t so snide, made a comment about how Jacquelyn probably beat her servants for not taking the decorations down directly after the holidays. I laughed. I had only seen Jacquelyn once or twice at school functions but she looked like she had a sadistic side.

“Finally at the top!” I announced. I took in the double doors than looked back at Kylie, “Knocker or Doorbell?”

“Doorbell, I guess. Are we even going in the right door? Did Siobhan or Matt tell you to come in the side? The house looks dead.”

I rang the doorbell and the dogs went crazy barking. You could hear their claws trying to grip the marble floor as they ran into the foyer. Then we heard a voice shout an order and there was silence. The door opened on the dogs quietly sitting behind Gunner Tracy. I half expected the guy to be in hunting clothes or something.

“You must be here for the twins. They’re downstairs. Just walk straight back and you’ll see the door open. You can leave your coats in that first closet.” He pointed where we needed to go then he held up a cigar. He stepped past us to the porch. “The wife won’t even let me smoke Cubans in my own house,” he snickered at me. I don’t even think he noticed Kylie.

The dogs followed Gunner out to the front porch and the heavy doors shut behind him. We put our coats in the closet he mentioned and walked cautiously down the corridor. I still couldn’t hear anyone. It was all twilight-zone-ish. I don’t really have a better way to describe it.  It was cool that Gunner Tracy smoked Cuban cigars—I remember being scared of him but kind of impressed too.

I whispered, “Did you see that cigar? A Cuban? Do you know how expensive those are?” (Like I did.)

“No, I don’t. My dad doesn’t smoke illegal cigars,” she whispered back.

“You’re dad doesn’t do anything illegal. I bet he doesn’t even smoke.”

“No, he has a cigar every once and awhile. And he has to be careful about that stuff.”

“Yeah, it’ll be all over the town paper. PATRICK BAINES RESIGNS FROM SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS—CUBAN CIGARS FOUND IN HIS DESK.”

Kylie laughed a little, “Shut-up, Ben.”

“So where do you think he got the cigar?”

“How should I know? They probably invite Fidel Castro to their New Year’s Eve bash.”

“My mom would be jealous that Senor Castro got an invitation.”

“Your mom can’t do much about it. She doesn’t have access to Cuban cigars.”

Just then, Siobhan came bouncing down the hallway. She was real excited. I loved the look on her face. She always was so collected in school. She really cared about her schoolwork and was a bit of a tight-ass about it. But, when she had fun, she really enjoyed herself. She had this ability to make everyone else enjoy themselves. Even when she bitched about stuff—it was still funny and entertaining some how.

She said something about how we were late and we should have blown off play practice like she did. Then she said, “Oh my God, Kylie. I totally just heard. What happened with you and Bret Dillon?” Kylie had been dating Bret for a like six months (which in “high school time” is like being married). My antennae were up right away. I was a sucker for drama.

Kylie reddened at hearing that question. She didn’t like being put on the spot in front of me. I could tell. But I couldn’t help myself. It sounded like Kylie and Bret had broken up or something.

“What happened, Kylie?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing. Me and Bret are done. It just wasn’t working.” She looked at us and knew we weren’t buying it. We had been friends long enough to call each other’s bluff. “He called me last night and was all like hinting around about breaking up. He said he didn’t have time with basketball season and all.”

“Yeah, Kylie, that’s not what I heard though. He’s such an ass. I can’t believe Matt invited him. I told him not to Kylie, I swear.” Siobhan continued.

Kylie shrugged her shoulders, “It’s…whatever…it’s okay.”

Apparently, Bret had moved on to bigger and better things like some cheerleader from the public school in his town. To make things worse, Bret was at the party with his new girl in tow. Matt never liked Bret all that much. It seemed stupid to invite him. I don’t know.

“Kylie, she is so not as pretty as you. You are like ten times better looking than her. She’s totally fat too.” Siobhan went into over-the-top gossip mode.

“I know who she is and she’s not fat. It’s okay. Really.”

“Whatever, she’s a total slut though.”

“That, I’ll agree with!” They both snickered. They always built each other up like that. Siobhan was way hyperbolic while Kylie was practical and blunt—but blunt in a mean way sometimes. They were the perfect match for conversation.

“You know what? Screw it. Screw stupid-ass Bret and his slutty girlfriend. I just want to have fun with you tonight. It’s your birthday.”

“Yeah, screw that retarded meathead! Screw his blow-job queen! Her only goal in life is to be a porn star!” This was when I had to butt in. They could go all night like this.

“Okay, girls, I think I get the point. Kylie, seriously, don’t worry about Mike.”

“I’m not, Benny. Can’t ya tell?”

“No, really, there are tons of guys that like you.”

“Yeah, like my brother…I mean…he thinks you’re cute is all.” In her excitement, Siobhan called out Matt. Clearly something she wasn’t supposed to tell.

Just then, Gunner came back down the hallway.

“What are you guys doing upstairs? And who are you gossiping about?”

“No one, Mr. Tracy. We were just making our way downstairs.” I said quickly.  Man, that guy had an intimidating voice—even when he was trying to be all cool with the teenagers.

“Daddy, stop eavesdropping.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping. Siobhan, you could hear that voice of yours from outside.”

“Whatever, Dad.”

“C’mon. You should be glad it was me hearing you talk like that and not your mother.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the cool one.”

Gunner pulled some dog treat out of his coat pocket and gave it to the dogs. He started walking away, into the kitchen. Siobhan turned back to me and Kylie, “Come on, Miss Kylie Baines. Don’t worry about stupid Bret Dillon. Miss Kylie Baines is a diva and a superstar!” She doubled over in laughter, happy with her proclamation.

Gunner came back around the corner, “Kylie Baines? That name sounds so familiar. Your Patrick Baines’s girl then.”

“Yes.” Kylie returned, quiet but proud.

“You have a few well-known people in your family, don’t you?”

“I’m—umm—I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Tracy.”

“Dad, can I get back to my party now? Kylie didn’t come here to talk to you. Besides she’s been her like a gazillion times already. Dad, this is Kylie. Kylie, Dad.”

He made this weird smile and walked away again. Then from in the kitchen, “If you kids need anything, your mother will get it for you.”

The party was fun. I played Matt’s new video games and stayed away from the couples and the girls. Kylie and Siobhan went around and greeted everyone together—like they were adults. I heard them laughing about all kinds of stuff. I even heard my name a few times. I tried not to think about it but I was fantasizing that Siobhan was telling everyone how much she liked that Ben Carrick, the tall kid who was over in the corner playing Tony Hawk on Matt’s new Play Station the whole night.

Matt mostly played video games too. He flirted a bit with this cute girl from another Catholic high school in our area called Cardinal McKellan Academy. I heard her say that he should invite her to his country club for a round of golf. He should teach her how to play. Smooth. Real smooth. Already bossing Matt around like their in a relationship for years.

Towards the end of the night, I saw Matt talk for awhile with Kylie. It caught my eye because it was probably the first civilized conversation they’d ever had. They barely talked in school. I saw Kylie talk to Taylor more than Matt. And Kylie never seemed to like Taylor. She thought he was funny sometimes but other than that, she just tolerated him. Taylor was kind of immature back then. No, scratch that last part. Taylor just is immature.

Here’s the weirdest thing that happened that night. I went upstairs to use the restroom and I got kind of lost (not the last time I got lost in the Tracy home). I heard Jacquelyn and Gunner Tracy talking in the kitchen.

“So, did that Kylie come to the party? Siobhan just adores her,” Jacquelyn asked. “I tried to get the door for all the kids. I like to see all their friends. I know I missed it a few times though.”

“I only got the door once. Betsy or Abby must have gotten the other ones you missed.”

“Who did you let in?”

“The tall kid. Ben. I’ve seen him once or twice before. Oh, and he was with Kylie Baines.”

“Ohhh, good. Siobhan told me that she thinks Matt likes her. When I asked her to define “like” she just gave me that face. You know the one.”

“Matt is interested in Kylie Baines?”

“Yeah, she’s very pretty.”

“Jackie. The name. You don’t recognize her last name?” He started doing this strong forceful whisper. This was where it got really weird.

“Kylie Baines…Of course, is she related to that administrator from the South Shore. He’s a superintendent of some big school district there, right? Rockville Centre maybe?” I heard the pop of a wine cork and some glasses getting put out on the marble countertops.

“Yes, she’s the daughter of Patrick Baines.”

“Great, sounds like a good stand-up family. So, what does she look like?”

“She’s, well, like you said, she’s very beautiful.”

“Ooh, maybe we should invite the Baines family over for dinner?” Jacquelyn sounded like Siobhan—or should I say Siobhan sounded like Jacquelyn?

“Jackie, you getting a little ahead of yourself. They’re fifteen; they’re not getting married.” Gunner sounded so serious.

“Gunner, did something happen? I know they’re fifteen. I think this stuff is cute though. Our Mattie, with a crush. C’mon, it’s adorable”

“Jacquelyn, you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, you’re being a bear. Why are you so cranky? It’s like you don’t like the girl.”

“The girl is fine. Her father is fine. Who is Patrick Baines married to?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think, Jacquelyn.” At this point, I remember wishing I had just found the bathroom. Then I heard a glass slam down, “Jacquelyn. Patrick Baines married Carine Baptiste. Baptiste! Does the name ring a bell now?”

“Gunner, like it matters…” Then she saw me and fumbled a smile, “Can I help you, sweetie?” She totally knew I was listening. I couldn’t talk right away. All I needed was the bathroom. But I didn’t understand back then what they meant about Kylie’s family. All I knew was—they didn’t like her because of the name Baptiste, my brother-in-law’s name.

When I saw my sister that weekend, I asked her about it. I asked her while the Tracys wouldn’t like anyone with the last name Baptiste. I was expecting her to say something like, “Ben, they’re the Tracys. They don’t like anyone who’s not a Tracy.” Or something to that effect. That would have made me feel better. I like my future in laws but they’re snobs. I would have felt more comfortable knowing that they didn’t like Kylie just because they were a little snooty like that.

Here’s the answer she gave me, “Ben, they like my husband just fine. Brice had drinks with Gunner in the city when he started at the D.A.’s office. Brice is a good man. He puts away scumbags for a living. How could they not like him?”

I was even more confused than before.

*                                  *                                  *

Taylor woke up just then, “Bro, are we even other the bridge yet?”

“Yeah, we’re in Queens. On the Cross Island.”

He lifted his head up to look out the window. Then he readjusted the seat back into the regular upright position. “Queens is gross, man.”

I looked over, “Did the baby have a nice nap? Did he wake up cranky?”

“Shut up, dude.”

“Hey…do you think that Jacquelyn and Gunner don’t like me because my sister is married to Brice Baptiste?”

“What? What kind of mental question is that?”

“You know they never liked Kylie because of her family right?”

“Is it all that hard to believe?”

“Like they really never gave her a chance.”

“Okay, first of all, just cause we saw Kylie randomly today, doesn’t mean that you suddenly have to worry about her hurt feelings over the freaking Tracys. I think Kylie can handle herself. I don’t think she’s losing sleep over how Gunner and Jacquelyn Tracy never gave her a chance.”

“I’m just saying…”

But Taylor was totally awake now. And I was in for it, “And second, I’m sure the Tracys like you just fine. Actually, wait. Gunner Tracy doesn’t really like anybody, especially not the half-Jewish kid who’s marrying his only daughter. Anyway, point is, Gunner doesn’t NOT like you because of Brice Baptiste. He doesn’t like you because he doesn’t like anyone.”

“Well, that makes me feel better.”

“Why are we talking about Brice anyway?  Because of Kylie? Or is it because Brice was all on the news today—all vigilante and shit?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about how Gunner and Jacquelyn probably never liked Kylie.”

“Who the fuck cares? We’re going to see her on Saturday. She’s going to be all busy and fake to us. And that’s it. End of story.”

I let out a big sigh. “Just go back to sleep.”

“I will. Don’t freaking wake me up. And don’t take Glen Cove Road home either.”

“Why not?”

“I got girlfriends on that street. I don’t want them to see the car.”

“You’re an ass.”

“What?” He flipped his cell phone open and started pushing keys, “I’m texting one of ‘em now.” Then he started rapping, “I’ve got hoes. In different area codes.”

Chapter 7

Dinner Plans

(COLETTE)

So, I laid on my bed and called my cousin. I know I said I would wait for Kylie but she would need me to cheer her up.

“Hello?” Kylie sounded pretty torn up already.

“Hey girl! It’s your favorite cousin.”

“No it’s not.” She was always trying to be funny like that.

“Well, then it’s your favorite female cousin on your mother’s side.”

“Well, I only have one of those, so I guess it’s you, Colette.”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Walking to my car.” She seemed a little agitated.

“Oh my God. Did you get out early? I got out early too. Well, I didn’t go to class. I had to be with my mom. It’s a mental health day, ya know? I needed it. I mean my dad got arrested this morning. We should do something. Are you…” Barney’s was having a cashmere sale. We could go. Awesome idea, me!

“Colette, I didn’t get out early. I do have to come downtown though. I’ll probably be in the city all afternoon.” I could hear the winding whizzing into the cell phone. “God, it’s freezing out.”

“Yep, summer is really over.”

“Summer has been over, Colie. Thanksgiving is next week”

“Don’t say that, I just bought like three pairs of boots at Neiman’s and they are so not December boots. They are very October-slash-November.”

“I don’t know the difference between December and November boots.”

“Awww look at you…all self-righteous and pretending like you’re not a slave to fashion. So sweet.”

“What do you want, Colette?” She sounded pretty irritated.

“I don’t know. You called me.”

“No, you called me. So what’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m at my apartment. And I want to know–what’s the plan?”

“You mean my uncle’s apartment.” She always needed to remind me and Blaise that our dad owns everything. Not us. Like when I try to give away free drinks at the Moose. She’s always like, “Colie, don’t give away that bottle of Patron. It’s expensive.” How am I supposed to know how much tequila costs? I don’t work there.

“Do you want to go out tonight after your classes or what? You could crash in the city with me. I’m totally worried about my dad.” I thought it was good idea.

“Yeah, I think I do need to go out for drink. I’m stressed.”

“Wow, I was sure you would say ‘no.’ You hardly ever go out on weeknights anymore. I figured you’d be all business after what happened today. Some serious shit, Ky. They got it all over the news too. They’re sayin’…” I desperately wanted to know what she thought about everything. But Kylie never really told me the whole story. I think my dad told her not to bother me with all that shit.

“Don’t listen to what they’re saying. Your dad will know what to do. Besides I called Vin earlier and I just got off the phone with him again. Your brother and Vin will take care of it for now.” She paused and took a breath, “Really, it’s just waiting. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yeah, but what are you going do to. You know they keep talking about Mark’s brother. Like my dad had him killed or something. Your Mark! Why would my dad do that?” I mean really. I thought—why would my dad have Kylie’s ex-boyfriend’s brother killed? Kylie didn’t respond though. She hated Mark Esposito after he cheated on her and tried to take over the club they opened together. I could hear her steps get heavier once I mentioned his name, like she started walking faster.

Kylie started again, “By the way, Saturday night we have to stay at the Moose all night. I got those Playmates coming in for this meet and greet.”

“I hate staying till closing.”

“Yeah, cause it means you might have to do some work,” Kylie laughed a little. She was joking, but not really. Kylie really did want me to work sometimes. I’m better with numbers though. I’m an accounting major.

I had to get her back, “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t say that. Just like you’re going to pretend like I’m not wearing your new Jimmy Choo boots.”

“What? You have them on?”

“What yourself. You left them at the apartment. You should take better care of such nice boots. Besides, I thought you hated them because The Dip, I mean Diablo, bought them for you.”

“Colette, I don’t know many girls who hate Jimmy Choo boots. He’s is not my favorite person in the world but he sure has a good sense of style.”

“He also knows lots of trendy restaurants.” This would be a good time to mention that I kind of made plans with Mr. Diablo for Kylie.  “He’s taking us to Lot 61 tonight. Do you know how long people are on waiting lists for that place?”

“No, we are not going out to dinner with Diablo and his boys tonight. I shouldn’t be out with him. With the people in his circle. It’ll look bad.”

“Well, I can’t just change it.”

“I just want to hang out with you. I just want to go to dinner with you and be able to say whatever I want.”

“You can do that with them.” She really couldn’t, but I already made the plans. And it was Lot 61—I couldn’t pass up Lot 61. My dad had just been arrested. Also, we needed to make sure we were in good with The Dip. So I tried to persuade her,  “He is a nice guy. I love his friend Gabriel. He is so sweet and he told me that The Dip talks a lot about you.  Gabriel says he’s really into you. I mean, I could’ve guessed that with all the gifts and stuff he’s bought you over the past few months. I know you think he’s only into you because of my dad, but I don’t know, I think that…”

“I just need a rest from all this soon. I just…”

“You’ll go then! Yay! I’m psyched now. It’s going to be so much fun. I bet Gabriel is going to look hot tonight. Don’t you think he’s hot?” The Dip had some major hotties as friends. It was like a prerequisite for working for him. Hotness required.

“Yeah, he’s good looking. Hey, what happened to last week when you came to visit me up at campus? You were so in love with the Ted, the T.A. from my class.”

“Ted and I had a moment.”

“Really? So what happened?”

“The moment passed.” That was good one. Kylie even laughed out loud.

“Listen, you can’t wear my boots tonight,” she warned. Like I was stupid enough to wear someone else’s gift while out to dinner with the giver—especially when the giver was Thade Diablo Beauvior.

“Yeah, I was just breaking them in for ya. You should wear them though.”

“I will. They’re pretty nice boots, huh?”

“Comfortable too.”

“I’m driving now. Gotta go.”

“Call me later—after you finish your school stuff.”

Would a picture help?

Chapter 6

Honor Student

(KYLIE)

“Okay. Sounds good. So, I will courier those dossiers to the other campus and you want me to stay and take minutes at the department meeting?,” I dutifully asked Professor Barnes. He didn’t seem to realize how late I was.

“It’s not an official department meeting, Kylie. It’s a meeting of a few key chairs and Dean Truman and his…cronies. Take especially good notes for me. I have to be hosting a symposium today. We finally got Michael Sky to come for a talk.”

That meant I would miss the talk with Michael Sky—one of my favorite poets. But, I needed to stay on Phil Barnes’s radar if I wanted to matriculate into this Accelerated Master’s Program CSU was piloting. It started next semester. Actually, I was already taking my first graduate class, George Bernard Shaw and his Contemporaries, on Friday afternoons. It was only two months in and already I was wrestling with idea of defying my mother’s demand that I go to grad school.

“That’s great. I hope I can be back in time to catch some of that talk,” I fished. It was amazing how I was basically leading two lives—one where I run my uncle’s business and I’m the center of attention and one where I was lil’ Kylie Baines, wide-eyed undergrad hoping some top notch professor will remember her name when admissions rolls around.

“Doubtful. It should be great though. It better be for what he’s costing.”

“Well, I’m sure the freshmen will appreciate it,” I regretted saying that as soon as it came out. It was true though. The freshmen had to read Sky’s newest book of poems about his time in Ethiopia. CSU arranged for the talk thinking it would engender some love of learning in the newbies and impress the parents who were indirectly footing the bill. Thankfully, most sarcasm was lost on Dr. Barnes. Unless of course it was an esoteric joke about 19^th century American literature. Then he laughed the loudest.

“Yes, I think they will. Sky is apparently a gripping orator. So, email me the minutes from the meeting by tonight if that’s okay. You don’t have class tonight, do you?”

“I have your class tonight Dr. Barnes.”

“Of course you do. Yes, well, it’s cancelled. I sent out an email. You know, because of the talk.”

“Well, then I guess I can get you the minutes by this evening.”

“Great. Thank-you so much, Kylie. You’re a great help.”

He meant it too. And I was just paying my dues. My mother wanted me out of the family business so she pressed this program whenever she got a chance. My uncle wanted what my mother wanted—well, kind of. He wanted me safe and doing something normal but he also wanted his affairs running smoothly. And me? It was my senior year of college. I had no idea what I wanted.

So, I traveled back to the elevator pushed the call button. I hesitated and decided maybe it’s better if I take the stairs. The elevator had been oddly eventful that day.

As I walked down the hallway of the first floor of Darcy Hall, I looked in the classrooms again—this time doing a sort of reconnaissance for Ben and Taylor. Those names! They just opened floodgates. I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I barely even remembered my what Professor Barnes told me to do when I got downtown. My uncle had been arrested today, I could be arrested at any moment and Ben Carrick and Taylor Butler were the biggest cause of my anxiety? I was a little disappointed in myself.

But I couldn’t stop. And part of me didn’t want to stop thinking about them, our random meeting by the elevator. I kept thinking about Ben, Taylor and Matt. And Matt wasn’t even there. I walked a little faster and held my bag closer to the side of my torso. I broke through the double doors of Darcy Hall. Autumn air battered me, instantly cooling my face and neck and drying out the skin on my knuckles. I headed back to the car. This was not an auspicious start to a day.

Chapter 5

Meet The Tracys

(BEN)

            “So that went well.” Taylor said loudly. His voiced echoed in the first floor hallway of Darcy Hall. This kid was going to get me kicked out of CSU before I even got in.

“Shhh.”

“What? She can’t hear me.”

“I know Kylie can’t hear you. I’m talking about the classes going on.”

“I don’t go here.”

“Yeah but…” It was no use explaining anything to Taylor sometimes.

“So? You gonna go on Saturday?”

“Yeah. I mean, she invited us. I kind of wanted to just get together…just us. Siobhan and I haven’t seen her in so long. I wish we could just…hang out.”

“Yeah, cause I’m sure Styles Baptiste would love to come over and play video games. Or maybe we should go bowling.” He snickered.

“Shut up, dude.” I pushed the double doors open and let them slam back in Taylor’s face.

“Yo, douchebag!” He said as he maneuvered sideways to get through the doors.

We started walking back to the parking lot. Actually, we got lost first and almost made it to the library on the other side of campus. I didn’t talk much. I was weirded out by the conversation at the elevator. Had things changed that much?

“Taylor. Was she really uncomfortable back there?”

“Is the Pope Catholic?” Then after a few puffs of his cigarette, “I think she was worried that Matt was with us. Now that joyful reunion I would pay money to see.”

We finally got to the car but Taylor had to finish his second cigarette. I was not letting him smoke in my new Benz. The kid is an accident waiting to happen. I got to thinking though—about high school and how happy Kylie was to see me this one day.

*                                  *                                  *

“Ben Carrick! Oh my God, what are you doing here?”

I heard that voice from behind me. It came echoing down the hallway of Our Lady of Victory Academy and I just knew who it was. Kylie Baines screamed my name with an excitement I had never heard before. I felt kind of flattered. Of course it was Friday afternoon. Of course school had just let out for a three-day weekend. Of course she was probably happy that she finally didn’t have detention. (At OLV, detention was from three to six p.m. and served with Sister Mary Peter. Not fun.) But, she could have just been happy to see me. And when one of most popular girls at school screams your name down the hallway, you can’t help but be a little flattered.

Kylie came up to greet me with this beaming smile on her face. Even in no make-up, an untucked shirt, an OLV plaid skirt and penny loafers, she looked great. I remember being pretty damn happy I would be going to school at OLV from now on. At first I didn’t want to go to an all-girls school—even if it was temporary.

So how did I end up at an all-girls school for most of my sophomore and junior years? No, my parents didn’t dress me an drag or nothing. Two words. Jacquelyn Tracy.

Okay, well, Matt and Siobhan’s mother didn’t start the fire that nearly burnt down Chancellor High School. She just had a hand in dictating where we went afterwards. Yeah, my high school had this huge fire (a conflagration one might say). It was all other the news back in ’95. I thought it was just another one of those stupid fire drills. But we got out in the hallway and there was smoke everywhere. Everyone starting coughing and running and panicking. Even the teacher were panicking. We got out okay but half the school was charred. Since the Earth Science lab and the Bio lab were in the wing that got toasted, Chancellor arranged for the underclassmen to go to school elsewhere.

Most of the Chancellor boys went to this other all boys school further out on the island called St. Benedicts. Some got home tutoring and some went to…gasp…public schools. But not me and Matt and a few others. We got to go to Our Lady of Victory Academy, Chancellor’s sister school. I was okay with it I guess. Siobhan—the girl I liked went there. Plus, my conversational skills had improved since our first meeting. By that time, Siobhan actually knew my name and greeted me when I came over their house to hang out with Matt.

But my younger brother Adam bitched and whined. “I have to got to school with a bunch of girls, take gym with girls?” This was one of the rare instances my sister Rebecca actually made sense. She explained the benefits of being one of the few guys in a school full of girls—no competition.

The point is me and brother didn’t have to go to OLV. We went there because Jacquelyn Tracy was sending Matt there. Plus, OLV was exclusive according to Jacquelyn. They were only taking about twenty Chancellor boys. They just didn’t have the room and Chancellor never shared any money from its bottomless coffers. So why should OLV bend over backwards now? I guess twenty was the highest number they could muster: a number that sent a clear message to Chancellor without making them look like bad Christians.

Still twenty was the number and Jacquelyn wanted in so…every other mother on the North Shore wanted in too. Jacquelyn Blake Tracy was and still is one of the most powerful people on the Gold Coast. But the power doesn’t come from being a Tracy. No, it’s her maiden name that causes middle-aged socialites to fall all over themselves for a game of tennis or an invite to dinner from Jacquelyn Tracy.

She’s the sole heir to the Blake fortune. Let me put it this way. If America had an aristocracy and the Kennedys were kings, then the Blakes would be dukes and the Carricks…well, my family would be randomly invited to court. Jacquelyn is the most popular woman at our country club. She decides who gets in and who gets kicked out. In fact, Jacquelyn is the reason my family has a place at Stonebriar.

Gunner Tracy scored when he convinced Jacquelyn to marry him. Apparently, Siobhan’s father was pretty good-looking back in the day. He was an athlete. He was charming. He was smart. And he was a bit of a womanizer (according to my dad). From what I’ve heard, I don’t think Conrad Blake was happy to see his daughter engaged to the young man who handled his hedge fund. It was fine with Mr. Blake when Gunner was filling his bank accounts but marry his only daughter? Let’s just say Jacquelyn’s engagement ring is from Tiffanys, not from the deceased Mrs. Blake’s jewelry box.

My mother was always trying to get on Jacquelyn’s good side—ever since I can remember. It was Mara Carrick’s goal in life to sit with Tracys at the club on a Sunday evening or to play a round of golf with Jacquelyn on a Tuesday morning (the busiest day of the week for ladies’ golf—complimentary mimosas all morning—even rich people are cheap sometimes). And when we were invited to the Tracys their illustrious New Year’s Eve bash, my mom was extra stressed out. Was black still okay to wear or did she look too frumpy? Was her jewelry too much? Should her hair be up?

So when it came to an important decision like where we would go to school after Chancellor burned down, my mom did what she always did—deferred to Jacquelyn. Me, my brother, Matt Tracy, Bret Dillon, and Taylor Butler all went to OLV for the rest of that year and most of junior year too.

I actually liked OLV though. Despite having to transfer schools right in the beginning of the year, teachers treating us like nuisances because we were distracting the girls, and missing out completely on fall sports, my sophomore year was great. Most of my junior year was great too. After all, we were twenty boys in a sea of girls. I was kind of sad when Chancellor reopened the second semester of junior year.

Those were some of the best times in my life. I know it’s sappy to say that but I loved hanging out with the crew, almost getting into trouble, sometimes really getting into trouble. We only had some classes with the girls: music, art, theology, anything that didn’t have a state test at the end of the year. We also saw them during homeroom, lunch and free periods. Wait, “unscheduled periods.” Like the administration insisted, it wasn’t free time afterall.

*                      *                      *

“Dude, I’m hungry.” Taylor said as he flung open the door to my Benz.

“I thought cigarettes were supposed to curb your appetite.”

He turned the heat on high and put his hands on the vents, “That’s only with girls.”

“So, do you think Kylie would freak if I brought Matt on Saturday?” I said as I pulled out of the parking spot.

“Didn’t we go over this already?” Taylor fiddled with the radio. When he found a song he liked, he turned the music way up and sat there putzing around with his phone.

I drove out of CSU’s lot and began looking for a place to get something to eat. I started wondering about Kylie and Matt—how they would react to seeing each again after all these years. I thought we’re not teenagers anymore. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

I smiled as I thought of how dramatic everyone was when we were in school. And all the different combinations of couples we had. And everyone made such a big deal when people broke up or got back together.

It all started with Kylie and Bret. Yeah, not with Kylie and Matt. By the time we got to OLV, Kylie was already dating Bret Dillon—the underclassman who was built like a college kid. He was the guy all the girls swooned over. Ridiculous, if you ask me. Bret didn’t look like a real teenager. Maybe he was twenty-five and still repeating the tenth grade. Or maybe I should have been eating whatever Bret was having for breakfast every morning.

And Kylie and Bret got together at Lido Beach, the summer before sophomore year. It was Kylie’s idea to go there—she thought these giant cement mushrooms they had were funny. I think that was my first time hanging out at the beach…with girls…in bikinis (excepting my sister Rebecca). I looked at Kylie and Siobhan in their bathing suits and thought, “how is this different than seeing a girl in her bra?” If Kylie and Siobhan had been standing in their underwear, they would have been totally embarrassed. Funny how that stuff works, right?

Of course Bret Dillon came with us which meant that me, and Matt, and Taylor got zero female attention that day. Thinking about how the girls all vied to put sunscreen on him kind of makes me cringe. Kylie and Siobhan were in a friendly competition (mostly the competition, not so much the friendly). They were laughing at his poorly delivered jokes and pretending he wasn’t the biggest meathead ever.

Much to Siobhan’s dismay (and my delight), it was evident that Bret had picked Kylie by the end of the day. I didn’t realize it then but Matt liked Kylie. He never really said anything until a few months later—you know, when Bret Dillon broke up with her. (That’s a whole other story.) It must have killed Matt that day when Kylie leaned over to him and said what a “good friend he was.” Then Siobhan added, “It’s like you and me are fake sisters, Kylie. That means that you and Matt are fake sister and brother.” It was her own crazy terminology. She had a whole rolling scale for how close her friendships are. It includes levels way past “friends” or “best friends” like “super best friends” and “fake sisters” and later she added on “Les Biancas” which meant that if she were a guy, she would sleep with Kylie. Anyway, Matt must have loved being elevated to fake brother and sister with Kylie. But, even though he had to play second fiddle to Bret Dillon for awhile, at least he got to be in the band.

Two Required Books: Sister of My Heart by Divakaruni  & The Kite Runner by Hosseini (These are the required books my seniors needed to get through.)

One from the Fiction pile: The Help by Stockett (This is easily my favorite book in a long time.)

One from the Non-Fiction pile: Decoded by Jay-Z (I confess I started reading this to break up my other non-fiction pic–What to Expect: The Toddler Years. And I started it because C.K. wasn’t finished with Clash of Kings, the sequel to Game of Thrones. But Decoded is smart, engaging, and has moments of real depth. Jay-Z’s talents in writing extend far beyond his incredible songwriting capabilities. And his perceptiveness is evident on every page. It comes with endnotes for when Jay-Z “close reads” his own songs–an aspect of the book that borders on academic. Decoded is definitely the “Seabiscuit” of my summer reading so far.)

I’ve also decided that when HBO (or Showtime, I’m not picky) wants to make my novel into a premium cable show that they will have to use mostly New York actors. I can barely tolerate real Long Island accents. I’m from Long Island so I have to listen to myself talk everyday. So I definitely don’t want to listen to actors doing the accent poorly. And it’s a Long Island accent, not Westchester, not Brooklyn. We have 27 different vowel sounds. And we’re 100% personality.

That said, I think Lindsay Lohan would be PERFECT for the part of Kylie Baines. She’s a good actress (when she’s not stealing things), she’s got edge, and she’s got sex appeal. And the best part? She’s from Merrick on Long Island. I think that by the time I get this thing published and get discovered by HBO, “LiLo” will be clean enough to do this part. And so, like a Strong Island phoenix rising from the ashes, she will star in the hottest TV show on premium cable. You’re welcome, Linz. Us Long Island gals have to look out for each other.

(I know, I know. She looks like a butterfly. Not a phoenix.)

Chapter 4

Old Friends & New Lives

(KYLIE)

“Kylie?” Ben stopped at the elevator door. He spoke like I was a ghost in front of him. The sliding door reset awkwardly as it tried to shut but sensed the bodies in the way.

“Ho. Lee. Shit.” Taylor practically blurped the words out, completely oblivious to me standing three-feet in front of him.

Before I could even break free from this spontaneous petrifaction that had seized my body, Ben came closer. He kissed me lightly on the cheek. The familiarity of the kiss was like a defribulator shocking a dead patient back into life.

“Hi!” It was a long drawn out pronunciation—the kind of “Hi” people use when they are frantically searching the rolodexes in their minds for the right name. But I wish that was the case. Truth is, I knew exactly who they were. I knew them very well, in fact. I just thought I would never see Ben Carrick and Taylor Butler again. I found myself oddly wishing that it was Thade and his friends standing in front of me.

I immediately peered into the elevator, scouring the area for any evidence of Matt Tracy. Taylor came forward with Ben and the door finally closed.

“Ben! What are you doing here?,” I spat out the words—impolite and clumsy.

“Is that any way to greet your BFF from high school?” He laughed warmly.

“What? I’m sorry.” I paused to recover. “I just didn’t expect you two to be here.”

“But here we are.  Isn’t it great?” Taylor stepped forward and opened his arms as if to present himself on a stage.  He thought this unpleasant chance meeting was hysterical.

“I’m so excited to see you, Kylie. It’s been so long. Too long.” Ben fumbled a little trying to make up for Taylor’s sarcasm.

“Yeah, some might even say not long enough.” Taylor muttered.

I gripped the corner of my bag for support and gulped. I really wished Ben and Taylor weren’t blocking the entrance to the elevator. “So what are you doing here? I mean, what brings you to CSU?” I offered, still recovering. It was just so weird seeing people from high school. And that morning? Did it have to be that morning in particular?

“I transferred here!” Ben announced. Taylor rolled his eyes and started playing with his phone. I was completely confused. Ben went to school in England. With Matt.

“You transferred here?” I asked—hoping I just completely misheard his last sentence.

“Yeah, I just couldn’t take it over the pond. Too stuffy, ya know?”

“But wouldn’t this be your last year in Chads?”

“Yeah, but it turns out that I wanted to do my Master’s at CSU. They’ve got a good Fiction Writing program. So I just figured I would switch and finish here. You know how it is.”

I let out a sigh despite myself. I just couldn’t understand why a guy who went to one of the best universities in England would decide to transfer to CSU his senior year. I remember standing onstage at play practice when Ben’s mom barged in and announced his acceptance to Chadwick College. And this school rarely took American students. That year, it took two from the States. Both from the same high school, too. Ben Carrick and Matt Tracy.

So, why not finish what he started? He was so far along. The fickleness of some people just escaped me. This is why I didn’t bother keeping in touch with them. They were too rich. No, it wasn’t being too rich. It was how aware they were of it.

“No, I guess I don’t know how it is.” I smiled weakly. Then I reached around Taylor and pressed the elevator button.

“I was so bored at that school. Like I said, too stuffy,” Ben smiled.

“I bet it was kind of stuffy.” I conceded. I just needed to get out of here. “Well, I hope you like it here.”

“I think I will.” He said confidently with this exuberance he always had. “It’s so much better. I can do my Master’s in like a year, maybe a year and a half. Also, now I’m so much closer to S.J.”

Ben was still with Siobhan Tracy? It was worse than I thought. Hearing those initials just made my gut twist. “You and Siobhan are still together?,” I said. My voice cracked in the middle of it making my rudeness even more apparent.

“Yeah, isn’t it sweet? High school sweethearts. Like you and Matt.” Taylor scoffed and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. I shot him a look. He was beginning to piss me off.

“Yeah, we are getting married.” Ben said. He widened his eyes at Taylor as if to say, That’s enough. Be cool.

“Getting married?” I must have looked like such a moron. This whole conversation was Ben stating something and my repeating everything he said in the form of a question.  Then the worst thought just crept up on me—he was going to tell Siobhan every word of this. And she would tell Matt. Or Ben would tell Matt. My lower back started to sweat.

“Yeah, this June. So, after we graduate. The parents didn’t want us to get married before we finished school. I just had to be closer to her, ya know?”

He said “ya know” a lot, I thought bitterly. But then I decided that I wasn’t going to let Ben or Taylor tell anyone that I was complete bitch to them. Not that I cared. I had way more important things to take care of. So I mustered a grin and pretended like I was flirting with the Italians at the my uncle’s club. After all, this was probably the only time I would ever see Ben at CSU. A total fluke. “Well, congratulations. You and Siobhan were always the sweetest couple.”

“Thanks. Hey, you should come to the engagement party. It’s next month. Right before Christmas.”

“Sure. I’d love to. I’d love to see S.J. again. I miss her.” All that just kind of came out. I did miss Siobhan a little. Me and S.J. had never not been friends. After all, what happened with Matt wasn’t his sister’s fault.

With this, I remembered I was late to meet Professor Barnes, a person I needed to make a good impression with. If I got in good with the right people on the fifth floor of Darcy Hall (CSU’s English Department), I would be invited into the same Master’s program Ben already thought himself enrolled in. And he was…already enrolled in some unspoken way. His father was Desmond Carrick. I had seen his name on the Archangels List many times.  At Catholic Universities, big donors are labeled in some rank of angel or saint or martyr and Archangel was one of the highest in the ranks of donors.

The elevator sounded and the door opened slowly. I breathed a sigh of relief and started moving past Ben and Taylor. Unfortunately, a maintenance worker and his cart took up the whole elevator car. “Going down to the basement,” he said gruffly. I turned to Ben and Taylor.

Ben spoke right away, happy to continue this reunion, “Yeah, Siobhan would love to see you too. She has been so busy. She is taking all law credits this semester. Man, she would love to hang out with you. I think she misses how much fun we had in high school. Wasn’t it fun?” He turned to his sidekick, “Wasn’t it fun, Tay?”

“Yeah,” he conceded unwillingly. But then, Taylor had a terrific idea, “Hey, Kylie, we should hang out at your uncle’s club or something?” Taylor beamed, proud that he had figured out a way to take advantage of this awkward situation.

I was caught off guard with Taylor’s request. I mean, it was fine that Ben invited me to an engagement a party a month from now. A party I most likely would not be attending.  I mean, in a month, this weird meeting would be forgotten on his end. But I wasn’t expecting Taylor’s request. I stumbled, “Uh, sure, I guess. Yeah, you guys should definitely come out to Loose Moose one night.” My eagerness was overcompensation—and not well-played.

“No, not the Moose. I’ve been there.” Taylor replied. Then to Ben, “I’ve been there plenty of times but Kylie doesn’t seem to notice me or want to notice me or whatever.”

Everyone picked up on Taylor’s passive aggressive remark. I honestly didn’t remember seeing Taylor at the Moose. So many people come in and throw my name around to get free drinks or who knows what else. I twisted around quickly and pushed the elevator button several times. What was that janitor doing holding it up like this?

“Yeah, we should definitely meet up at the Loose Moose.” Ben said, running interference for the tactless friend beside him.

“I think we should meet up at The Saddle” Taylor interjected—no shame in suggesting we hang out there.  What a great place for a chummy reunion? My uncle’s strip club in the Meat Packing District.

“Yeah, cause S.J. would just love to go there.” Ben reacted, almost meanly.

“I will be at the Moose this Saturday if you guys want to drop in. I will leave your names at the door as my guests” I said.

Immediately, I hoped they wouldn’t come. But then I felt differently. It might be fun to hang out with Ben and S.J. and even Taylor. It would be a nice repose from the normal nights at the Moose and a nice break from having to play “Styles” for a while. Then I changed again. I hoped that on his walk back to his car Ben would accidentally drop the small piece of paper I had ripped from my planner and wrote my cell number on. It would just be easier that way.