CHAPTER 2: Support

We learn of Alicia's support system and some more about her friends, peers, teachers, and most importantly, Johnny.

Sometimes I wish I still lived on Hill Street.

Even with the horrible memories I have from there, I wish my parents hadn’t decided to move five blocks away. See, I am still in New Jersey, living in the small town of Warrant, only my parents did not like the idea of us staying at the house Johnny’s crash happened right in front of. They, along with the newly hired Dr. Green, thought it would stall my “healing.”                         

          As much as I knew I did not want to have to see that area over and over again, I still felt as though leaving it would be wrong. But now I live on 96^th Street in an even bigger mini mansion than before.

          “If we really do this, we will have to update, no doubt.” My mom said this to my father about a week after Johnny’s death. I hadn’t been able to go to sleep and ended up eavesdropping on their conversation. Something I saw as completely sensible, since after all, it was about me.

“If we’ve got the money, let’s do it.” My dad is always going for whatever my mom suggests. And since my mother is one of the most successful and sought after travel agents in the Northeast, and my father is a big producer for the Sports Network, they sure as hell had the money for a house upgrade.

About nine days after that conversation, the house went up for sale and we moved over here. My mother had some projects ordered for the new house and brought me and my younger brother Troy to IKEA to pick anything we wanted for our bedrooms. I got a beautiful Queen-sized bed, a new mattress, and three different bed sets, comforters included. Troy got a bunk bed and bed sets with Spiderman, Batman, and the Incredible Hulk on each.

Troy had always loved comic superheroes. He used to call Johnny a superhero. It was the cutest thing. Since Troy knew Johnny helped his father out with bills and that he watched over him and his diabetes, Troy would call him Mr. Amazing, his inspiration being Stan Lee’s character, Mr. Fantastic from the Fantastic Four. Johnny’s death really hurt Troy too. He didn’t talk to anyone except me for two weeks and all he wanted to talk about was where Johnny is going to be now and he wanted to hear as many stories as I could about when Johnny was around.

I remember I told him one day, “Johnny is in heaven now, with all of the other angels.”

“Will he be okay up there, all alone?” Troy had tears streaming down his face.

“Of course, he isn’t alone though Troy. He has some family up there, and since it’s heaven, he probably has a beautiful beach to go to everyday.”

“Will I get to see him in heaven?”

“Definitely,” I wiped his tears and started to get him into his bed so he could sleep, “But you’ll have to wait. Your time will come eventually but not for many years. When it’s your time, you’ll be up there with him. So will I one day. For now, he’s just going to be watching over us; keeping us safe.” I smiled at him, gave him a kiss and went to bed myself. Of course, I couldn’t sleep but I felt better knowing at least my brother was starting to heal.

Today, things are different. The three month anniversary of the accident was a week and half ago but I still have nightmares. My nightmares are the key subject every time I go to see Dr. Green. I go to the same school still, even though Alice was strongly pushing for me to transfer. I was really against getting a therapist. In a way, I settled on Alice. She seemed to be the only normal one of all the people my parents interviewed. I was angry though, when Alice suggested I change schools. That was where I drew the line. Franklin High School is where everything is for me; my friends, my teachers, my support. The whole school was crushed by Johnny’s passing.

Johnny was friends with everyone. The snobby and stuck-up clique, the nerds, the preps, you name it. One weekend we’d be going to a party hosted by the marching band captain, Emile Westback. Then the next weekend we’d be going to the party of the year, hosted by the quarterback of the football team and King of the d-bags, Lloyd Martin.

Johnny was captain of the Basketball team and one of the best runners on the Track team. His coaches for each sport, Mr. Luna for Track and Mr. Cetrizelo for Basketball, are two of my favorite teachers. They both came to his funeral and expressed how sorry they were about losing such a kind, loving, and talented soul. I was so broken, especially at the funeral. It was a bit over three weeks after the accident and I thought I was going to be able to handle it. I ended up breaking down right in front of Mr. Luna. I’ve had Mr. Luna for English since I was twelve so I wasn’t as much embarrassed as I was disappointed. I had made it my goal to stay composed and to be the strong girlfriend and I had failed miserably.

Mr. Luna was cool about it all though. He never did tell anyone about my breakdown and we never talk about it. He just took it, and I cried, with only him in the room, for about thirty minutes in the breakfast nook towards the back of the house. He held me until I calmed down and caught my breath. I had always seen Mr. Luna as an uncle figure so even with as fallen apart as I was, I felt that his support was keeping me from completely losing myself. It felt nice to let out my feelings. I was sad and one of the people that kept me smiling had been taken from me; I was bound to have a crying fit. If Mr. Luna hadn’t been there with me, I don’t know what would’ve happened.

My close friends attended Johnny’s funeral too; Daniela Hynes, Robert (Bobby as we call him) Ortiz, and Maria Groves. Daniela had been coming over every day since the accident and Maria had been coming every other day. Bobby would have come but he was away visiting family in Florida. He got the call a few days later and came over as soon as he landed at JFK.

That’s why I could never leave FHS. Everyone there knew Johnny. They loved watching him throw the game winning three pointers on the basketball court just as much as I did. They looked forward to cheering his name with me as he ran like hell to the finish line in the National Track Championships every year. I needed to hold onto that support. And I still do.