She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,126

Don’t let her wish die with her. Fulfill it. Honor her memory by going to Penn State, getting a degree, making something of your life. You want to come back here at some point, do it later. Put some time and space between it all. You’ll be amazed at how much a little distance will help clear your head.” He paused for a second. “The drinking needs to stop. If it comes down to it, I can put you into a program. The trust gives me the ability, with or without your consent, but I don’t want to. You’re drinking to cope with everything, I get that, I’ve done it myself, but it needs to stop. That’s another rabbit hole you don’t want to venture too far into. Focus on your future—it’s a bright one. Make peace with your past and move on. You’re strong enough, I know you are.”

“You sound like Gerdy,” I muttered.

“Who?”

I just shook my head and leaned forward into my hands.

Matteo rose and pushed his chair back. “That’s about the closest thing to a pep talk you’ll ever get out of me, kid. As a lawyer, I had to hand over my conscience back when I passed the Bar. Last thing I need is my competition catching wind that I held something back.” He winked awkwardly. “Let’s get Willy and figure out what we need to do to make this happen.”

Turns out, there wasn’t much to it.

Willy spent the afternoon on the phone in my apartment filling a notepad he had swiped from Matteo’s office with information. I spent that same afternoon lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It was a nice ceiling. I tried drawing in my sketchpad, but my hand kept shaking. I could draw while drunk and I could draw while sober, but there was this unpleasant not-so-sweet spot somewhere in between where I wasn’t much good at anything other than eat, sleep, and various bodily functions. That was where the headaches, chills, and sweats preferred to live, and I didn’t like it much. I knew a drink would fix me right up. I also knew that wasn’t really the answer. A drink sounded good, though.

At one point, Willy ducked his head into the room and told me according to the woman he just spoke to at the testing center, high school graduates weren’t eligible to take the GED exam. He seemed to think this was immensely funny. It took me a moment to realize why, then I got it. Lucky for us, we weren’t high school graduates, so we’d have no trouble complying with that particular rule. Other rules proved to be a little more difficult. For example, the minimum age requirement was eighteen years. Sixteen and seventeen-year-olds could take the exam, but certain restrictions applied. He called Matteo’s office on that one, and Tess told him she’d relay the message. Matteo was busy with matters of his own.

Matteo called back a few hours later and told us since I was an orphan, an aspiring felon, and wealthy, I was a shoo-in for the GED. He’d make some calls.

I think I preferred him without a conscience or sense of humor.

It took the better part of a week to obtain those approvals.

The following Thursday, Willy and I took a cab down to the testing center on Seventh, paid the fee of sixty dollars each, and walked out the squat brick building high school graduates. I scored 196 out of 200, Willy got 173. I made him buy lunch.

The following day, I bought a car. A black 1990 Honda Prelude, with twenty-three thousand miles on the odometer. Willy taught me to drive in a Giant Eagle parking lot. The week after, I got my Pennsylvania driver’s license.

I was told to forget her.

And I told them I would try.

It wouldn’t be that easy, though.

Matteo pulled some strings with Penn State, and by the first week of November we were enrolled in the spring semester set to begin classes in late January. I spoke to Teddy Carruth at Brentwood Groceries, and he agreed to make weekly deliveries to Ms. Leech in apartment 304. She wasn’t happy to hear I was leaving. She was even less thrilled to hear about the new grocery arrangements.

On November 16, Duncan Bellino was arrested on multiple drug trafficking charges. He was out three hours later. The charges wouldn’t stick. He smiled at the news cameras before two large men helped him out of his wheelchair and into the back