Dirty Journalism

Just as Jeffrey was about to shut his dorm room door and go to the library, Jackie walked up to him. “Hey,” Jeffrey said with a smile.

“Hi,” Jackie said uncertainly. She looked confused, as if she wasn’t sure how she had gotten in this hallway or why she was standing outside the boys’ dorm.

“Er… do you need something?” Jeffrey asked, as Jackie was staring at the door he was about to close.

“Where’s Max?” she asked.

“Basketball practice. He usually gets done in about fifteen minutes.”

“Um… I’ll just wait for him in your room, if that’s okay,” Jackie said.

“Sure,” Jeffrey replied, moving over so she could enter the room. “Make yourself at home. There’s Advil in the bathroom drawer.”

“Right, I might need some of that,” Jackie said with a small laugh.

“And when Max gets here…” Jeffrey added with a smirk, “don’t do anything Dina would do. And if you do, keep it on his bed.”

Jackie made a face. “Gross.”

As soon as Jeffrey shut the door, Jackie dropped to her stomach and scooted the top half of her body under Max’s bed. She sighed as the carved words came into view once again. Stupid words, why must you be here? she thought angrily, yet she couldn’t take her eyes away.

For several minutes, she laid there, silently gazing at the wall. She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear the door open. She barely even acknowledged it when Max’s head appeared next to her under the bed.

“So,” he said lightly, breaking the silence.

Jackie jumped a little and glanced at him. He was smirking at her. “So what?” she countered, knowing she sounded childish and stupid.

“So, do you want to explain why you’re under my bed?” Max suggested.

“Not really.”

“Okay. Do you want to tell me what’s up with those words?”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk at all?”

Jackie thought for a second. “You have siblings, don’t you?”

Max frowned at her choice of topic. “Three older brothers. One’s in college, two are out and married. Why?”

“Do you like them?” Jackie asked lightly.

“I’ve never been particularly close to any of them,” Max answered honestly.

“Tell me about them.”

“Uh… okay. The oldest is Steven, he’s twenty-seven. He lives in Rhode Island with his wife and twin daughters. Jason is twenty-five and lives in Manhattan with his wife. Then there’s David, he’s twenty-one. He’s a senior at Berkeley.”

“Keep going.”

Max frowned, not understanding why Jackie wanted to know this, but he answered her anyway. “Well, we grew up in Albany. They’re all quite a bit older than me, so… I guess that’s just why we’re not close. I was their punching bag or the cute little brother they impressed their girlfriends with. I hated elementary school in Albany, where all the teachers said, ‘You’re another Leopold. I know you’ll be great like your brothers.’ And then I never was. All three of them are science and math geniuses, plus they’re good at sports. My fifth grade track coach was surprised that I couldn’t do a mile in under six minutes when he found out I was a Leopold boy. It was just… so annoying. That’s why I asked my parents to send me here. I didn’t want to go through middle and high school as ‘Max, the little brother of Steven, Jason, and David who isn’t as good as any of them.’ So I came here.”

“Can any of them write a commentary like you can?” Jackie asked with a smile.

Max grinned. “Eh, probably not.”

They lapsed back into silence. Max drummed his fingers against the floor, waiting for Jackie to say something else. When she didn’t, he took charge. “Why are you asking about my brothers?”

“Just curious,” she answered shortly, shrugging.

“Oh, okay,” Max said, trying to get longer answers out of her. “Uh… I’d ask you about your siblings, but I know you’re an only child.”

Jackie stared at the wall in front of her. “How do you know that?” she asked slowly.

“I don’t know,” Max admitted, confused. “It’s just something about you I learned over the years. Why?”

“It’s not true.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not true!” Jackie said loudly, startling Max. He looked at her carefully, but she wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Talk to me,” he said. He didn’t demand it, but he wasn’t sweet about it either. It was just Max talking to Jackie, not a boy talking to his girlfriend. They were different.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid,” Jackie sighed.

“I already think that. Just tell me,” Max said with a chuckle.

“Michaela,” Jackie said, nodding toward the wall. “That Michaela was my older sister.”

Max was silent for a moment. “Was?”

Jackie nodded, not looking at him. “She had just finished her junior year here at JA. She had this boyfriend—Charlie. I think they really liked each other. She brought him down to Nashville that summer before their senior year. My parents hated him. They thought he was a bad influence on her, but I knew better. Michaela had become rebellious the day she started at James Academy. Charlie had nothing to do with it.

“My parents refused to believe that their precious oldest daughter could ever be like naturally, I suppose. Anyway, Michaela begged to go out with Charlie one night. To a party, I think. My mom said no. I remember the screaming match she and Michaela had in the kitchen. I remember the look Michaela gave me when I caught her climbing out the window with Charlie. I didn’t say anything to my parents.

“It was raining. Wherever they were going was off in the country-ish area. They were driving on a muddy dirt road. The car flipped in a ditch filled with water. Charlie got himself out of the passenger seat, but she couldn’t get out.

“She drowned. And Charlie Brighton literally lost his fingernails trying to get her out. I remember the phone call from the hospital. I could hear Charlie’s hysterical crying in the background, and I wasn’t even in the same room as the phone. I remember my dad punching a hole in the wall before he and my mom ran out the door. They didn’t say a word to me.

“They didn’t listen to Charlie. He tried to explain. They put him on a plane and sent him back here, where his family lived. I guess he came back to school during the summer, because this second set of words—”To Michaela. I will love you forever. Love Charlie. July 24, 2002”–were carved two days after she died. But Charlie didn’t come back for his senior year here. No one heard from him after that summer.

“That was the summer before sixth grade for me, the summer before I was going to join my sister at JA. I guess… I just… I don’t know. When I watched her casket getting lowered into the ground, I felt sick. Michaela didn’t want to be buried, she wanted to be cremated. She told me that after we cremated our old dog the year before she died. She told me she wanted to divide her ashes between the people she loved, so she could remain in our hearts forever. I told my parents that’s what she wanted. They didn’t listen to me.

“I think they blamed me. They blamed Charlie, mostly, but I told them afterwards that I’d seen them sneaking out. I started to blame myself. And then I saw her getting buried, something she never wanted to happen, and I blamed myself for not forcing my parents to cremate her. It was all my fucking fault.

“All through sixth grade, I got headaches because of it. Every time I thought about Michaela or sneaking out or my parents’ faces, my head just about broke open. I had prescription medicine for them, and I told Lexi and Stella they were a result of stress. As if our lives were stressful in sixth grade.

“On the one year anniversary of Michaela’s death, I made a decision. I decided that the one thing I could do to make all the stupid pain go away was forget. I forgot about everything. I didn’t talk about Michaela, I didn’t think about Michaela, I didn’t act like Michaela had ever existed.

“My parents never brought her up anyway. Teachers never said a single thing about her to me, because they knew I was upset. It wasn’t hard to just forget about her. The headaches stopped, and I didn’t need medicine anymore. For five years, I forgot about her. Completely, totally, absolutely forgot about her.

“And then… you and I… I was in here and dropped your pencil… and I saw the words. They’re like this giant reminder on the wall, saying Your sister died. She’d dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. I haven’t been able to get them out of my head since I saw them. That’s why I’ve been getting headaches again. I’m remembering.

“And now I’m just completely disgusted with myself. Charlie Brighton, wherever the hell he is, loved Michaela. He loved her with all his heart. He didn’t forget. I know he didn’t. He left her one last message, right here. Maybe this spot was special to them. I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he didn’t forget like I did.

“I had a sister. Her name was Michaela Maria Bodello. She died when she was seventeen-years-old. She wanted to be a pediatrician. She loved kids. She wanted to start her own family, probably with Charlie. Her favorite color was red, her favorite movie was Gone With the Wind, her favorite book was To Kill a Mockingbird. And you know what? If you had asked a single one of those questions between the time she died and the day I saw these words, I wouldn’t have been able to answer.

“Because I’m the shittiest sister in the world. It’s my fault she’s dead and I don’t even have the guts to remember her.”

Jackie pulled herself out from under the bed before Max could comprehend what was going on. “Jackie–” he started to say, reaching for her, but within seconds he heard the slam of the door and the sound of hurried footsteps running down the hall.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Max stood beside Jeffrey, Scooter, Stella, and Lexi in the James Academy atrium. It was the last day before Thanksgiving break, and all the students were gathered with their luggage to say goodbye to their friends.

“This is stupid, we’ll see each other in a week,” Max muttered, rolling his eyes at the long hug Stella and Lexi were sharing.

Scooter shot him a look. “If Lexi wants to hug Stella for twenty straight minutes, than she can hug Stella for twenty straight minutes!” he said. “Don’t be nasty just because you and Jackie are in fight–”

“We’re not in a fight!” Max said harshly.

“Then why hasn’t she spoken to you in three days?” Scooter asked pointedly.

“She hasn’t?” Stella questioned as she and Lexi broke apart.

“Nice going, Scooter,” Max mumbled.

Scooter shrugged. “It’s the truth. It’s not obvious at meals because everyone’s always talking at the same time, but I’ve noticed it.”

“Just shut the hell up!” Max said loudly, just as Jackie appeared between Stella and Lexi.

“Hey, Jackie,” Lexi said awkwardly.

“Hi.” Jackie’s eyes met Max’s for a moment, before she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Stella, Lexi, can I talk to you guys for a second? Alone?”

Stella and Lexi nodded and the three girls walked away. Max groaned and sat on his suitcase, glaring at the floor.

“Dude,” Scooter said, “you’re acting pathetic.”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” Max said through gritted teeth, still staring at the ground.

Jeffrey sighed and sat down on his own suitcase right next to Max’s. “What happened?” he asked calmly.

Max took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you.”

“What?” Scooter asked, sitting on the other side of Max. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t even know,” Max admitted, shaking his head. “But we’re not fighting. She’s just… not talking to me. I didn’t even do anything.”

“You got it bad,” Jeffrey said with a slight chuckle.

“Huh?” Max asked, glancing up.

“We’ve been best friends since sixth grade,” Jeffrey explained, “and never once have you been as hooked on a girl as you are with Jackie Bodello.”

Scooter laughed. “Awww… Max is a lovesick little puppy!”

“Dude, for the third fucking time, shut the hell up,” Max said. He glanced at Scooter, who was still cracking up, and at Jeffrey, who was trying his hardest not to. “I hate you guys,” he said, shaking his head.

“You hate us, and you love Jackie. Oh, how the tables have turned,” Scooter said, standing up. He grabbed his suitcase and ran out the door before Max could tell him to shut up one more time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Honey, it’s good to have you home,” Adrienne Bodello said, smiling at her daughter. “Dad and I have missed you.”

Jackie smiled tightly as she helped her mom set the table for Thanksgiving dinner. Have you really, Mother? Have you forgiven me? “I’ve only been at school for three months.”

“Well, it’s been long enough. Come on, let’s get everyone gathered for dinner. Can you help your grandfather down the stairs?”

“Assuming he remembers who I am…” Jackie muttered as she turned on her heel and headed upstairs. Her grandfather was past his expiration date. At ninety-one, he had endured three heart surgeries and two heart attacks, and he now thought he was the captain of a pirate ship.

“Grandpa James, are you ready for dinner?” she said, coming into his room where the old man sat on his bed.

“Ay!” he answered. “Bring on the rum!”

“How’s wine?” Jackie asked, helping him up and moving toward the door. “You cleaned out the rum yesterday.”

“I did?”

“Er… yes,” Jackie said, inventing wildly in her mind. “You rewarded yourself after you defeated that evil captain… guy. Good for you, Grandpa James.”

“Good for me!” he repeated, lifting his arms in victory. They had reached the stairs, and the moment he took one step down, he exclaimed, “We’ve been hit! Abandon ship!”

“It was just a fish!” Jackie said quickly, grasping even tighter around his arm.

“Then full speed ahead, matey!”

“Right. Full speed ahead. As if that’s possible with you.” Jackie didn’t mean to sound sarcastic with her grandfather, but they were taking two minutes per step, and it was rather frustrating.

By the sixth step (another twelve minutes later), Grandpa James turned to Jackie and said, “Who are you, lad?”

“I’m a girl,” she said, nodding slowly. “I’m your granddaughter, Ja–”

“My granddaughter?”

“Yes, I’m your daughter’s daughter. My name is–”

“Then I am finally dead.”

“What?” Jackie stared at him. He closed his eyes peacefully and took a deep breath. “Grandpa James, you’re not dead,” she said hurriedly.

“But I am with my granddaughter, so I must be,” he said calmly, patting Jackie’s hands. “I am with my little Michaela.”

Jackie’s voice cracked when she said, “I’m Jackie.”

“My little Michaela,” Grandpa James repeated, ignoring her, a smile on his face. “I’ve missed you.”

Jackie stared straight ahead, continuing to guide her grandfather down the stairs. She didn’t say another word to him or anyone else all through dinner.

As she and her mom put away dishes late that night, her mom turned to her. “Jackie, you’ve been so quiet. What’s wrong?”

Jackie sighed but didn’t answer right away. A few moments later, she said, “I don’t want to go back.”

“I’m sorry?” Her mother looked at her questioningly. “Go back where?”

“School,” Jackie said, practically whispering.

“Dear, you have to go back to school!” Her mom said with a slight chuckle. “Is something wrong there? Are you doing badly in classes?”

“No.”

“Is the newspaper too stressful?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Please. Please don’t make me go back.”

“Jackie, why?”

Jackie looked her mother in the eyes and took a deep breath. “I want to forget again.”

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In the next chapter of Dirty Journalism…

"We don't want to have to be the ones to tell you this, but..."
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"Are you in love with her?"
“I don't know. I might have been.”
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“I was going to help you, but if you want to give up, I guess I'll put my efforts into something worthwhile.”