Chapter 33

ella’s home smells like flowers and something sweet. Not sugar or syrup, but something more potent.

It’s been a little over a month since the pep rally and so much has gone down. Callaghan has been suspended, pending an investigation. Dr. Philmore’s still working, but he’s under the microscope as well. The bro’s season was canceled, which devastated the town, and is the reason Ella, Quinn, and I joined Ollie for tutoring for the rest of the year. Our lawyers agreed we would receive too much unwanted attention. Which really meant we wouldn’t be safe, not with angry bros prowling, as well as some in the community still supporting them. But there are signs that things are changing. People are starting to accept the truth.

That’s because the team is willing to talk. The cops have everything I recorded and they use it to interview the bros. So Kyle and Stephen tell me. There will be a trial, or multiple ones, really, and we’ll have to testify. I’m sure it will get ugly, but that’s the price, and I know I’m willing to pay it.

“Ready, Greg?” Ella smiles and my insides feel light, but I don’t have to tell myself to be cool anymore. She accepts me, and that helps me from getting all sorts of awkward.

We head out to work on settings and capturing transitions for our work. Ella’s enrolled in some online film course, and I’m doing the lessons with her. Really, I’m just trying to keep up.

We shoot kids driving by in cars. Some flip us off. Others honk and swear. I find something dead and crawling with insects and Ella records the ants carrying the pieces away. A house is being built and so we shoot roofers flipping sections of plywood to a guy perched on the frame, shirtless, smoking a cigarette without touching it, placing every piece perfectly. We’re getting the hang of it.

“Break?” she asks.

I’m already a swampy mess so it’s a no-brainer. “Yeah. Under the tree.”

We sit and drink from our water bottles and the breeze feels good.

“Are you going away this summer?” Ella asks and wipes her mouth on her wrist.

“I don’t think so. You know, the trials and all. My parents think it best to stick around. Maybe after?”

She nods. “Yeah, I think we might be doing the same. It sucks, though, we’ll be stuck around here, caged up.”

“We already are.” I laugh.

“How do you think it will be next year, when we go back?”

“Quinn says he’s only going to work out once a day, and Ollie’s going to be homecoming king.”

“What about you, Greg?” Ella’s tone’s light, but I know she wants me to give her a real answer.

I’ve thought a lot about this, and it’s weird, because I’ve hated school for so long that looking forward to it seems impossible. Yet, it’s more than that.

“I don’t think I ever told you my story, the reason, I think, for why I ended up like I did.”

Ella doesn’t speak, just looks at me and waits.

“It was at the end of fifth grade, I had this teacher, Mr. Tanner. He was a cool guy, always made a big deal out of everyone’s birthdays. He held a party at the end of the year for all the kids whose birthdays were over the summer, like me.” I can see the classroom, our little desks in clusters, the sun pouring in, everyone smiling. “So he brought in all this food—cupcakes, cookies, ice cream, and on and on. Well, surprise, surprise, I stuffed myself. Seriously, I ate six cupcakes, I don’t know how many cookies, and a heaping bowl of ice cream. The kids laughed because it was crazy how much I was packing away.”

“That wasn’t your first time, though, was it?”

“What, eating that much?”

She nods.

“No, it wasn’t. And maybe Mr. Tanner guessed that. I don’t know. Or maybe he was just nervous I was going to puke everywhere, because he pulled me aside and said, ‘Greg, fat kids eat like that. You don’t want to be a fat kid, do you?’”

Ella sighs.

“Yeah, it was uncomfortable, and then it stayed with me, that question. And of course I didn’t. Who does? But something inside kept telling me I already was a fat kid, so I should just go with it, keep eating.” I look up at the clouds. “And I did.”

“That is some kind of crazy self-fulfilling prophecy,” Ella says.

“I know. Talk about saying the wrong thing at the perfect time.”

“I hear you. So, how does that relate to school next year? Are you going to hunt down Mr. Tanner and kick his ass?” She laughs, but I think she’s halfway serious.

“No, no, that’s not it. I’m not blaming anyone. It may sound that way, but I’ve been thinking about this, now that I’m not worried about getting killed by the bros. I think I could legitimately point the finger at teachers, or my parents, the kids at school, and certainly at myself. But where does that get me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly. So the hell with it. School next year is going to be like the first time that I can go in with a fresh start.”

“How so? You’re going to have all of this shit behind you.”

“Right. But that’s not what matters.”

“How? Look at what happened to me. Certain things follow you, whether you like it or not.”

“You’re right, and I have to learn to be okay with that. I know I’m never going to escape my past. My ‘fresh start’ is being able to roll with that. To let things happen and not feel compelled to manipulate anything. To trust in the truth of things and embrace that.” I lean back and feel the breeze lift my shirt. I don’t immediately pull it down over my belly.

“Damn, Greg. That’s deep. You have been thinking. Good.”

“Glad you think so.” I sip my water. “So are you coming over tonight?”

“As if you even needed to ask me.”

• • •

Quinn is the last to arrive, but he has good reason, he had to wait for his dad, who hangs behind us with my dad, while Ollie, Ella, and I take up the couch, and Quinn and Mom bookend us on the chairs.

“Everyone ready?” I ask, and my stomach is spinning in circles. I’ve edited and reedited this piece countless times. It’s not completely finished, because I’m not completely finished. Neither is Ollie, and I’m guessing the same is true for Ella and Quinn. But that’s the point.

This weight loss transformation video was supposed to be the crowning jewel for Blint’s class, my middle finger to the school. But it has morphed into something much greater. Here we all are, which means so much to me, I can’t put it into words. And so I try to swallow the enormous lump in my throat. I stare at the TV. I feel amazing, and Ella’s hand finds mine as I press play.