The Truth About Alice(41)

Josh

We had our worst season in a really long time. It just sucked. We won that first game against Dominion. Maybe they let us win because they felt sorry for us because of Brandon. I don’t know. But we lost almost every game after that except for the one against Pikesville, and I don’t even think that counts because that town is so small they barely have enough guys to make up a team.

Coach Hendricks was always bringing up Brandon in the locker room. At least in the beginning of the season when we still had a chance. He’d say things like, “Brandon would have wanted us to go and give it our all!” or “Let’s win this one for Brandon!” Whatever. It pissed me off. Because really, Coach Hendricks just wanted us to win. He was upset Brandon was dead because Brandon was the best quarterback Healy had had in a million years. But he wasn’t upset Brandon was dead because of anything else about Brandon. And so it really bugged me the way he kept bringing him up all the time. I figured if Brandon could see what was going on from heaven, it would piss him off, too.

I sort of want to believe in heaven. I think about it whenever Reverend Simmons talks about it at church on Sunday. I want to believe I’ll see Brandon again, and in heaven we can pass footballs all day and drink good beer for free and just chill. I guess for a little while, I had heaven on earth because that’s what Brandon and I did most of the time, just hang out. Drinking, chilling. Whatever. We didn’t even pay for the beer because we stole it from our parents.

But if you want to know the truth, I have this feeling down in my gut that there is no heaven. My gut just tells me it doesn’t make sense. How could there be a heaven for me and not for every little fly I swat or squirrel I’ve accidentally run over? But it makes me feel really weird thinking about death just being it, the end. So whenever the idea of no heaven comes into my head, I just sort of try and push it out of there.

I try not to think about that stuff too much.

And the truth is, even if there is a heaven, I don’t think I’ll get in. Because even more than trying not to think about Brandon and heaven, what I really try not to think about is what actually happened the day of the accident. The day after the Homecoming Game. I’ve never told anyone about it, and it’s a weird feeling to know I never will. Never.

We were drinking beers on Brandon’s roof. Some hair of the dog, I guess, and I was drinking double everything that Brandon was putting down. Brandon had three, maybe four beers if you want to know the truth, so he was pretty buzzed when his mom asked us to run to the store for her to get her some diapers for Brandon’s little sister. That’s why the cops said his blood alcohol was probably the cause of the accident. But I’d seen Brandon drive after drinking way more than that. He drove drunk all the time. It’s just a Healy thing, I guess. It was hot out, and the inside of Brandon’s truck was like a million degrees. Brandon stripped his shirt off when we got inside and cranked open the windows.

“AC’s broke again,” he said.

My head was loopy from the beer. I knew my eyes were looking at Brandon’s chest for too long. I’d seen Brandon’s chest more times than I could count. In the locker room. When he stayed over at my house. Swimming at Healy Pool North. I looked one last time as we were getting in the truck and then I told myself to stop looking.

I was pretty lit and feeling good, and it sounds stupid when I say it now, but as we pulled out of Brandon’s front yard I just thought about us winning the Homecoming Game and everybody loving us and thinking how great we were. It was like I was high on us being us. Me and Brandon. Brandon and me.

“We’re kings of this town, man,” I said as Brandon picked up speed. The trees were blobs of green. The oncoming traffic was flashes of color. Red truck. Blue car. White van. The air coming in the windows was coming in so fast it was like it was cutting into our faces. But it felt good.

“Hell, yeah, we’re kings of this town,” Brandon said, and it was so cool to be just the two of us, alone together. I mean, I was Brandon’s best friend, but people were always trying to get near him. I guess what I mean is that sometimes it was nice when it was just the two of us all by ourselves. Like that moment in the truck. It felt perfect.

But then Brandon took out his phone.

“I think this king needs a queen,” he said. His eyes kept darting between the phone and the road.

“What, dude?” I said, raising my voice so he could hear me over the wind coming in through the windows.

“I need to get laid,” Brandon yelled, laughing. “Now where the hell is Alice Franklin’s number?”

I stared out the window. Green blobs of trees. Pink blobs of houses. The rev of the engine building and building. I didn’t want Brandon to text Alice Franklin. I didn’t want him to text any girl. I wanted it to be just us. I know it sounds so stupid, but I felt jealous. Like Alice was right there in the cab of the truck with us. Like all the girls who loved Brandon, which was basically every girl in Healy, were in the cab of the truck with us. And for that one moment I just didn’t want them around.

“Poor Alice seems kinda lonely lately, don’t you think?” Brandon said. “Like she might be ripe for a little bit of attention?” His eyes were still jumping between County Road 181 and his cell. “I think it’s because of what people are saying about Elaine’s party. Shit, man, give the poor girl a break, right?” He grinned.