Project XX by Mickey J Corrigan

Author:Mickey J Corrigan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Salt Publishing Limited
Published: 2017-06-02T10:18:23+00:00

Twelve: Like a Boss

H8er went missing after that. In fact, she was absent from my life for more than a month. Except for one phone call, on April 20th. That ought to give you a good solid clue: April 20th. Like 4:20? Typical H8er, right?

Just before she called, I’d run a psychotic number of laps on the outdoor track. The late afternoon air was thick with early summer humidity and I was drenched in lazy sweat. Coach Meyer gave me the thumbs up, sent me inside to hit the showers.

My training had been solid lately and I’d done pretty well (for a change) at the all high schools meet held in Winter Haven over the weekend. I didn’t place, but I didn’t humiliate myself either. Coach Meyer said he was pleased with my performance. I’m not sure what he saw in me because I wasn’t one of his star runners, but maybe he liked the way I just hung in there, even when the going got tough. He’d begun saying I should continue to train, even though HSC didn’t have a girls’ track team.

I wasn’t clear on whether I would keep at it, but I was open to the idea. Running is totally mindless but it takes focus. So it provides a nice break from thinking about how shitty your life is.

At my locker, I toweled off and checked my phone. I was majorly surprised to see that H8er had called. No message, though.

Before I could strip off my Nike Boyshorts, my phone rang and I picked up. She didn’t explain where she’d been hiding or why. She just said, “Long live Eric and Dylan.”

“Who?” I asked. “Hey, aren’t you going out with Bradley anymore?”

I made my voice hard, kind of snotty. I wasn’t annoyed at her over losing him, I was mostly relieved. But I didn’t appreciate the fact that she’d dumped me and taken up with the guy. I mean, weren’t we supposed to be cooler than that? Couldn’t she still hang with me even though she was fucking my sort of ex-boyfriend?

I didn’t say any of this to her.

“Who?” she said. “Oh, him. He’s history. I’m referring to the Columbine boyz, Heller. Think about it. Except for you, world’s biggest nerd with her head permanently up her A-grade ass, everyone is thinking about Eric and Dylan today.”

“Why?”

“SMD, I can’t fucking believe you’re a National Merit Scholar, Heller,” she groaned. “Because, you big tard, today is the thirteenth anniversary of the Columbine school shooting. Meaning my personal heroes have been gone for thirteen full years. And nobody, but nobody, has been able to outdo them. In all this time.” She sniffed. “And not for lack of trying, either. There are like these school shootings practically every month. Lame ones. Copycat massacres that aren’t. Not like Dylan and Eric, man. Those guys had it down.”

“There was the guy in Norway,” I said. “He killed more than seventy people.”

“He’s an adult, Heller. And he had political reasons for shooting all those camp kids.

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