Words I Might Have Ate

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David lives in Concord, a wealthy suburb in the San Francisco Bay Area, with his wife, Heather, and their daughter, Elizabeth. Having spent the majority of his life living in Rodeo so as to be close to his job, David and Heather moved to Concord three years ago, after David secured his position as vice principal at Pinole Valley High School.

David and Heather were the epitome of the American dream. David had met Heather through work. She had been a first-year history teacher and David had been in his fourth year of teaching science. They had bumped into each other in the teacher’s lounge and instantly clicked, deciding to marry less than two years after they began dating. Elizabeth Claire Armstrong made her debut four years ago after two years of wedded bliss. With a new baby and a significantly more hefty paycheck, David and Heather set off for Concord—a snooty little suburb nearly thirty minutes from Berkeley. They happily occupied their house there, basking in the warm sense of community that their money had helped them acquire. That’s not to say that because of their new-found wealth that David and Heather were stuck-up and unappreciative of their roots because they weren’t. David still loves Berkeley and Rodeo; he just enjoys that he can give a financially secure life to his family.

One would think that because of our differences, David and I would be a lot more remote from each other. If anything, David’s new sense of freedom made him more aware of his family’s financial woes. He was always willing to lend a helping hand or a few extra dollars whenever needed, as evidenced by his sickeningly selfless decision to help me in my journey to attain my high school diploma.

The walk from Martin’s Pub to the bus stop was a twenty minute trek which left me with ten minutes to spare before the 7:35 bus left Berkeley. At precisely 8 o’clock the bus arrives in Concord Park and from there, it is a fifteen minute walk to David’s house. The moment my tired feet cross the invisible border of the gated community where David lives my stomach explodes into a bundle of nerves.

I cannot decide exactly if I’m nervous or excited about my upcoming high school crash course nor can I explain why I’m so anxious. I should be elated that I’m getting the chance to go back and fix this but I’m stuck on the what-ifs.

What if I fail all of my finals, even with David’s assistance? He had promised to go back and help me study if I flunked my first time around but I know that deep down, I would be crushed beyond belief and I don’t know if I’d have the heart to continue on again.

What if Mom finds out? What if I fail and she somehow figures out that I tried to go back and get my diploma? She’ll be disappointed and upset, though she’ll deny it vehemently. And then she’ll go on to say that whatever my decision is in the matter, she’ll stick by me regardless. But I know that deep down it’ll be a horrible blow for her to realize that her son can’t graduate high school, despite his best efforts.

Think of the taunts I’d get from that waste of human life she calls a husband. Our relationship is rocky enough as it is but I know that if he makes one wise-crack about this, I’ll kick his ass. What if my brothers and sisters find out that I tried to go back and get my diploma? What’s going to happen when my nieces and nephews start to graduate high school? I’ll feel a million times more stupid if I can’t even get my fucking degree and my siblings’ children get theirs.

And finally, I come to Mike and Tré. How are they going to handle this? I’ve never kept something of this magnitude from them before but there is a first time for everything, right? All I’m doing is going to finish up my high school education, it’s not like I’m going on to college. I’m not breaking up Green Day for my schooling. On the contrary, this entire thing is for Green Day.

When I get my diploma, I can get a better job and save up more money. And with that extra money I can put more money towards the band. And so ultimately this is all for the band’s greater good. I’m doing this for Green Day, for the music, for the career that I know I’ll have one day.

Before my mind can deter me anymore, I find myself on David’s front stoop, my jacket clutched around my body tightly and my fist poised just above the polished wood of the front door. After a few seconds of deliberation, I let my hand fall forward and I knock three times before taking a step back and glancing around me. I feel rather out of place on this polished street and I can feel the neighbors’ curious stares burning into the back of my head.

The door swings open and Heather, David’s wife, smiles warmly at me. “We’ve been expecting you, Billie. Come on in,” She motions, opening the door wider. “Dinner’s on the table.”

I greet her with a friendly smile as I step into the hallway and remove my jacket. “Thanks Heather.”

There’s a shrill shriek and I turn to see Lizzie sprinting down the hallway towards me, her long brown hair swinging as she wraps herself around my legs in a tight embrace.

“Uncle Billie, you came! Daddy said you were going to, too,” She adds, smiling toothily up at me. “Are you here to play with me? Did you bring Mike?” She’s rapid fire questions as she peers around me, like she expects Mike, who’s considerably taller than me, to pop out and shout surprise.

“No,” I laugh, patting her head carefully. “Mike’s working. It’s just me tonight, sorry kiddo,” I add when I see the disappointed look on her face, though it disappears just as quickly as it appears.

“That’s alright,” She shrugs, sliding her hand into my own and leading me towards the heavenly aroma that is wafting towards me from the kitchen. “I helped Mommy with dinner tonight.”

“Really?” I ask as we enter the room and nod my greetings at my brother. “What did you help make?”

“Spaghetti,” She crows, climbing into her seat and patting the chair next to her. “Sit next to me, Uncle Billie!”

I laugh a bit as I slip into the wooden seat next to her just as Heather adds a basket of garlic bread to the table and David sets a glass of root beer at my place. “Thank you,” I murmur as they sit down and we begin our first meal together.

-X-

David disappears from the kitchen and I’m left alone at the massive wooden table, lost among the stacks of various papers and thick textbooks. The only sound in the room is the off-putting ticking of the clock on the wall and I find myself clicking my tongue behind my teeth in a lame attempt to create some other type of noise.

My gaze is drawn towards the rather thick binder that’s sitting pretentiously at David’s seat. I slide it towards me, glancing over my shoulder to ensure that I was indeed alone in the room. I don’t know why, but I felt like I was breaking the rules as I began to read over David’s binder.

“It’s just the syllabus.”

I jump at David’s voice and guiltily slam the binder closed, my heart hammering in my chest obnoxiously. “Jesus Christ David.”

David laughs, sitting down at the table and setting down his mug of coffee. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d scare you. I thought I made enough noise coming down the hall.”

“Well obviously not,” I roll my eyes jokingly and push the binder back towards my brother. “Okay so now what?”

“Well first things first,” David opens his binder and uses a tab to flip to a piece of loose-leaf that’s completely covered in his neat handwriting. “You have four classes that you need to finish your credits for in order to graduate.”

I nod, slouching back in my chair and staring up at the ceiling. “English, government and biology.”

“And math,” He finishes for me, rubbing an open palm over his bearded chin thoughtfully. “So I guess I’ll let you chose what we start with first.”

“English,” I reply after a few seconds of thought. “That should be easy enough, right?” I ask, thinking about the notebooks that’re lying under my bed at the moment, filled to bursting with lyrics and random thoughts that come to mind at four in the morning.

David shrugs, running his finger down his lists quickly. “English will require you to read classic American literature and—“

“What’re the other classes’ requirements?” I interrupt as an indescribable churning begins in my stomach. It’s a toss-up between being completely horrified at the thought of sitting down and seriously discussing Romeo and Juliet with my older brother or being absolutely daunted as the monstrosity of the task that I’ve agreed to undertake all comes rushing down on my shoulders.

David arches an eyebrow up at me before looking back down at his notes. “Government will be fairly straight-forward, just read a few chapters and take the test. I can’t help much with that except for answering any questions you might come across as you read. Math, however, is a completely different story.”

“How so?” I ask slowly, watching as he sighs heavily and runs a hand through his dark hair absentmindedly.

“Well from your transcripts, math wasn’t your best subject,” David begins, meeting my eyes from across the table. “You only need to test over a few chapters and your final is all of your tests averaged together.”

“When did that become a rule?” I sit straight up, the news that I might be getting out of a grueling final brightening me up considerably.

David casts a rather amused look at me. “It’s always been the rule, Bill. It’s just how the curriculum is at Pinole; we try to make our seniors’ last few weeks as stress less as possible.”

The urge to snort at the ridiculousness that is David’s statement is almost overwhelming but I manage to stifle my disbelief in enough time to save myself from the only inevitable tongue lashing he would have unleashed upon me. David was one of those people who were under the delusion that high school was actually for knowledge’s sake and that by reducing the exam grind by one, his students would be dropping to their knees in gratitude.

“Something in your throat?” He asks in a tone of voice that lets me know he clearly knows what I’m laughing about.

I shake my head and smile innocently. “I’m alright.”

“Biology should be a breeze. I have notes from a teacher right here,” He pats his folder securely. “We can go over them and then we’ll take the test.”

“Question,” I finally look up from the grain in the table and meet my brother’s calm gaze. I find myself picking at the skin by my thumb nail anxiously. “I won’t be taking these all together, will I? The tests, I mean. I can’t possibly take all four of them at the same—“

David shakes his head quickly. “Oh no. We’ll pick one subject and stick with that for a few weeks before testing you on it. Unlike your average high school student, you’ve had a four year break from your last classroom session. I wouldn’t expect you to be able to sit down and take all four examinations right in a row.”

I nod my head and a bit of an awkward silence fills the room as I revert my gaze back down to the papers in front of me and David sips on his lukewarm coffee. Finally I look back up at him and attempt a weak smile. “You’re bending a lot of rules for me, aren’t you?”

Here he adopts a rather confused expression and so I continue speaking to save him his breath. “I mean, it’s probably not as easy as this for other dropouts, is it? I lucked out because you’re the assistant principal and you’re willing to help me.”

His fingers play with two discarded metal paperclips that were lying on the table and a carefully neutral look spreads over him. “I’m your brother, Billie. Of course I’m willing to help you. I’m not saying that the other people who drop out of high school ever get the chance to go back and finish their diplomas and not all of them have awesome older brothers who can use his authority to help them out. But I can assure you that all of this is one hundred percent you; I’m not abusing any power I have nor am I breaking any rules by helping you get this diploma. Don’t worry about it.”

I manage a weak grin just as my niece bounds into the room, her hair wet and clumped together from her bath. She clambers into her father’s lap and throws her arms around his neck, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Heather walks in, a tired but content look on her face as she watches her husband and daughter interact.

“Bed time already?” David asks, blowing a raspberry on her cheek after looking over at the clock on the oven. “I didn’t even hear you fight to get out of your bath tonight, missy. Are you sure you’re feeling well?” He asks, peering into his daughter’s face with a mock-concerned sparkle in his eyes.

Lizzie shrieks with laughter as David tickles her sides gently. “Daddy, stop! Mommy said you’re going to tuck me in.”

David relents, kissing her temple softly as he stands from the table. “Be right back, Billie. Lizzers, say good night to Uncle Billie.”

Lizzie squirms down from her father’s grasp and rushes around the table to throw her chubby baby arms around my legs. I laugh wryly and bend down to embrace her in an awkward hug. “Good night, Lizzie.”

“Night, Uncle Billie,” She responds, slipping her hand into her father’s as they exit the room.

Heather busies herself with a pile of mail on the counter as I search desperately for something to occupy my hands. “He’s so proud of you, you know.”

“David?” I ask uncertainly, watching as she places a few envelopes back down on the granite top and shreds three letters that must be junk mail.

She nods and looks up at me. “He came home from seeing you perform at that club and the first thing he said was how proud and excited he was that you were taking control of your life and getting your priorities straight.”

As much as it stung when she compared Green Day and a job so trivially, I brushed it aside easily as a new sense of pride washed over me. My brother was proud of me. Before I can come up with a response, Heather walks out from around the counter and shrugs her thin shoulders.

“I’m proud of you, too, Billie. It can’t be easy doing this and I just want you to know that we’re here for you. We’re behind you through this entire thing.”

The creaking of the stairs alerts us to David’s return and I manage only a tiny smile towards my sister-in-law before David enters the kitchen once more.

“Is Lizzie in bed?” Heather asks as he eases himself back down into his seat.

“She’s tucked in and waiting for you to read her a bed-time story,” He answers, turning in his chair so he can see his wife. “She was very insistent that you were the one to read to her tonight.”

Heather rolls her eyes jokingly before dropping a kiss to her husband’s graying hair and walking up the stairs. David readjusts himself in his chair before sighing heavily and looking over at me with apologetic eyes.

“Sorry about that,” He waves his hand. “Liz is starting to make a big fuss about going to bed; she won’t go to sleep unless the both of us tuck her in.”

“It’s alright,” I reply, glancing over at the clock. “I actually should get going. We’ve both got work in the morning and I have to catch the last bus to Berkeley in half-hour.”

“Fair enough,” David shuffles his papers together, paper clipping them together effectively. “Ready for your first homework assignment?”

“Homework?” The bottom of my stomach drops out and I can feel my face screwing up with disgust. “Seriously Dave?”

“Yes seriously,” He mocks my whining voice. “It’s your choice tonight though. So pick between English and biology.”

“English,” I sigh dramatically, trying to stop the smile from growing on my lips. “I suppose I’ll get that out of the way.”

“I thought long and hard about what classic novel I was going to have you read and I finally stumbled upon the perfect book for you,” David begins, rooting through his briefcase that’s been sitting on the chair next to him the entire time that I’ve failed to notice. “J.D. Salinger.” He produces a battered and worn white book with a tiny bit of flourish before handing it to me.

I accept the shabby text a bit hesitantly, my eyes lingering on the image of the red horse on the cover for a few moments. “I remember this book.”

“Really?” David sounds genuinely interested and so I nod before speaking again.

“Yeah, I remember getting it in junior year and senior year again because I didn’t read it the first time around,” I shrug before stowing the book carefully in my jacket pocket. “Third time’s the charm, eh?”

He nods knowingly, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “I have a feeling that it is, yes.”

A few flickers of doubt flit through my head at his sudden burst of amusement but I brush them aside as I rise to my feet and struggle into my jacket. “Thanks, David man. I really appreciate this.”

“Not a problem,” He answers, getting up and following me to the door. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I shake my head, my hand on the doorknob. “I get off at six thirty tomorrow so I’ll be over after that.”

“I’ll be here. I expect the first chapter to be read,” He adds warningly, wiggling his eyebrows at me. “Or else it’s detention for you.”

“Hardy har har,” I roll my eyes as I open the door and step out onto the porch. “Very funny, Dave.”

“I try,” The light from the hallway floods around him and spills out onto the front lawn. “Be careful.”

“I will,” I wave, shoving my hands into my pockets and walking down the front steps. “Later.”

“Bye,” He calls after me, waving once before closing and locking the door firmly behind me.

I pick up my pace as I cut across the driveway in the direction of the bus station. The only noise is the crunching of grass beneath my heels and my breathing in the cool night air. Inside my pocket, with my hand wrapped tightly around the frayed pages, the book feels like a weight as I think about the monumental secret I’m keeping from all my friends and family.