Chapter 4
FOUR
WE JUST TURNED SIXTEEN
“Come on, man.”
I nudge Silas with my elbow, and he rolls his eyes with a heavy sigh as he picks up his pencil again. But the lead doesn’t touch the page. He just stares at the paper on his desk as a muscle in his jaw tics.
The classroom hums with low conversations, pages turning, and chairs scratching over the floor, while Mr. Bell sits at his computer near the front.
He scans the room every few minutes to make sure we’re all still working on our Personal Values and Career Priorities worksheets, but he’s letting us take our time and discuss them with partners.
I lean over to look at Silas’s paper and see that he hasn’t even written his name on it yet.
All he’s done so far is draw geometric doodles along the edge and stare out the window.
This is the only class we have together this year, now that we’re in Grade ten and in different course streams. But this one is a required class for everyone, and since it’s Career Exploration and Opportunities, and we’re nearing the end of the year, the worksheets are getting more specific as we figure out what we want to do after high school, and what courses we need to take in Grade eleven and twelve to get there.
“This is bullshit,” he mutters, and scrawls his name across the top in a messy slant.
I chuckle, looking at the drawing of a pile of shit next to the title of the worksheet. “I see that.”
He tips his head back with another sigh. “Why do I have to do this? We all know I’ll just be working on the farm.”
I shrug a shoulder. “Maybe there’s something else you’ll want to do. That’s kind of the point.”
He lowers his head, and his hazel eyes meet mine. His hat is on backwards as usual, and his dark blond hair pokes out around his ears. “We both know there’s nothing else I can do.”
A snort of laughter sounds behind us, and I glance over my shoulder at Ashton and Jeremy.
“Got that right,” Ashton says with a chuckle.
My eyes dart to Silas, but he doesn’t turn around. He clenches his jaw and grips his pencil so tightly that his knuckles turn white.
Jeremy leans forward over his desk, tilting his head to look at Silas. “How’d you even get into this class? It’s for exploring university and career paths. You can’t even pass basic math without someone holding your hand.”
“Fuck off, Jeremy,” I mutter, and turn my back to him again. Then I point at one of the questions on Silas’s worksheet and lower my voice so they can’t hear me. “Do this one. It’s asking to circle what matters most to you in a future career. I chose innovation, impact, and efficiency.”
His brow furrows as he looks over the options. “I don’t even know what half of these mean, Levi…”
“This one.” I point at ‘working with my hands.’ “You’re good at building stuff, and you like helping around the farm.”
Silas sighs and circles it.
“Can’t even do a simple worksheet without someone helping him,” Ashton says behind us, and Jeremy laughs.
“Ignore them,” I mutter to Silas.
I can tell he’s trying hard not to turn around and say or do something. His grip on his pencil is so tight I think he’ll break it, and his leg is bouncing under his desk.
“What else?” I ask.
He adjusts his hat and pulls in a breath as his eyes roam over the list of options. “I don’t know… creativity, I guess…”
I grin. “Hell yeah.”
He circles it, and more chuckles sound behind us.
“Creatively finding ways to fail.”
Silas suddenly slams his pencil down and twists in his chair to face Ashton and Jeremy. “Fuck off!”
“Silas!” Mr. Bell’s voice cuts through the room.
But Silas just continues to glare at Ashton and Jeremy. “Say it to my fucking face,” he says.
“Enough!” Mr. Bell snaps, and Silas flicks his gaze to him. Mr. Bell then points to the door. “Office. Now.”
I shoot Ashton and Jeremy a look as they laugh under their breath, and Silas glares at Mr. Bell.
“For what?” Silas asks. “Trying to do my work?”
“Trying,” Jeremy mutters with a smirk.
Silas pushes up from his chair, and the legs scrape across the floor before it tips over as he steps towards Jeremy. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Go to the office, Silas. Now!” Mr. Bell’s voice booms as he also pushes to his feet.
Ashton and Jeremy put on their best innocent faces as they stay seated, looking up at Silas like they’re afraid of him.
Silas shoves Ashton’s desk into him as he moves past it to grab his bag, and Mr. Bell exhales heavily. Silas slings his backpack over his shoulder and heads for the door, then pulls it shut behind him with a heavy slam that rattles the windows.
I turn in my seat, glaring at the two of them. “Fucking assholes.”
Ashton smirks as he pushes his desk back. “Why do you even hang around him? He’s a learning centre kid.”
“And?” I ask, holding his stare.
He lifts a shoulder. “He has, like… special needs or whatever. It’s weird.”
Heat floods my entire body as I lean forward and clench my fists. “Coming from someone who needs a group project to get a passing grade.”
His smirk falters, but I just turn and grab my worksheet, then head to the front of the room before he can respond.
I hold out my paper to Mr. Bell. “You know Silas didn’t start that, right?”
He takes it from me and gives me a tired look. “Then he could have walked away or asked me for help.”
Like that would do any good.
I turn to head back to my seat, but he stops me.
“Levi, wait a moment.”
Mr. Bell looks over the answers on my worksheet. “What are you thinking you want to do after high school?”
I shrug. “I don’t really know yet.
He nods slowly and sets the sheet aside. “You should think about the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme for Grades eleven and twelve.”
My eyes widen, and I take a step closer. I have been thinking about it. “Really?”
He nods with a small smile. “You’re at the top of your grade, and it’ll prepare you for university—assuming that’s where you’re headed?”
He gives me a look like he dares me to say no, and I nod. I do want to go to university. I just don’t know for what yet.
“Good,” he says. “You already have the grades and prerequisite classes for IB. And you’ll need a teacher recommendation for the application, which I’m more than happy to write for you.”
My insides buzz with excitement, and I have to keep myself from jumping up and down as I smile widely and nod.
Mr. Bell chuckles and clicks at his computer. “There’s an information session next week. I’ll send the details to your parents.”
“Thank you,” I say with a smile. “That sounds awesome.”
He eyes me as he taps on his keyboard. “You’ll have to decide what you want to take at university, so you pick the right courses over the next two years.”
“I will,” I promise, and mean it.
He nods towards my desk for me to return to my seat, and as I make my way back, my mind is already running a mile a minute.
I’ve been trying to decide what it is I want to do, and what I want to be, but every time I think I’ve narrowed it down, something new pulls me in.
Math makes sense in a way nothing else does, but technology also really excites me.
Designing and problem-solving in computer science was so fun this year…
but environmental science was just as fascinating.
And economics is coming next year, which I already know I’m going to love.
I just want to do it all. I want everything.
How am I ever supposed to decide?
“Argh.”
Silas scrubs at his page with the eraser as his brow creases, dragging it so hard across the paper that it almost tears.
“That looked good,” I say, lowering my book to glance over at him.
He’s been drawing the view of the sunset over the water from up here in the lighthouse. His drawings have shifted more to landscapes lately, and he’s really good. He draws shorelines, fields, farms—everything. And each one is amazing.
But today, he’s being extra hard on himself. And I know it’s because of everything that went down in school this afternoon.
He slides down the wall beside me, dropping the drawing on the floor. “It’s shit,” he mumbles.
I reach over and pick it up. It’s anything but.
Even with just a pencil, this is incredible. He’s somehow captured the movement of the waves perfectly as they roll into shore and catch the glimmer of the lowering sun.
“I don’t know why I even bother,” Silas says, grabbing the drawing from me and curling his hands like he’s ready to crumple it.
“Don’t!” I quickly snatch it back. “Si, it’s really good. I promise.”
He doesn’t meet my eyes, and my heart hurts at the look on his face.
I know that look. I know exactly what’s swirling around in his head.
He always thinks he’s failing at something.
That he’s too much, and too hard to help.
That nothing he makes or does will matter anyway.
And while I know what happened at school today didn’t help, he’s also struggling a bit more right now because he was supposed to be with his mom this week.
But she had to go out of town for work. And for the past few months, it seems like she’s had to go away for work a lot more…
on her weeks with Silas. Especially when he’s struggling more than usual.
I heard my parents talking about it recently. And it made me really mad. Because they said she doesn’t have a job that requires her to travel.
I guess if we were to find a bright side, it would be that he spends more time on the farm, staying with his grandparents and his dad, who are able to help him through the hard things. And he gets to spend more time with me.
But I’m still really sad for him.
I push to my feet and pull him up with me, turning him to look out the windows of the lighthouse.
The sun continues to lower in the sky, burning deep gold across the horizon.
The water reflects every streak of it, glowing deep orange near the water and fading into softer pinks as it blends upwards into the sky.
The tide has rolled in almost all the way now, and the waves lap over the sand in lazy arcs while seagulls fly overhead.
It’s late spring now, so the days are getting longer, and I think this might be my favourite time of year.
I look over at Silas and take in his face bathed in the soft orange sunlight. His hazel eyes glow as the brown flecks in them deepen into a rich gold, and the green brightens. Soft freckles dot his cheeks, more visible in this light than ever, and I can’t help but smile.
The longer days mean he gets to draw more sunsets. But it also means we get more time together.
“Try again,” I say, holding his drawing out to him.
He shifts his gaze out to the horizon and sighs. “No.”
I watch him as his eyes unfocus, and he seems to shut everything off. Like he’s escaping whatever it is he’s feeling.
He does that a lot.
I gently place a hand on his back and keep it there as he slowly comes back to me.
He turns to look into my eyes, and I give him a small smile. “Redwave would.”
He huffs a breath through his nose and glances at the floor where his sketchbook sits. The one that keeps all the comics we make.
I reach down and grab it, flipping it open to the most recent comic we made.
Even at sixteen, we still have Redwave to help us through it all.
He’ll never leave us. And Silas has gotten so good at drawing that the panels look like they belong in an actual comic book.
Redwave looks like a real person now, and like someone we could actually meet.
Silas tilts his head to look at it. We made the last one because I was mad at Jade for telling Mom and Dad I snuck out of the house at night so Silas and I could go cow tipping at the Ferguson’s farm next door.
I was already pissed that it didn’t work, because cows don’t tip over.
And then Jade had to rat on me, and I was grounded all weekend.
A smile spreads across Silas’s lips as a small chuckle escapes him. “Fucking cows.”
“Fucking cows,” I agree with a laugh.
He pulls a breath in and takes the book from me. “He wants to hit the people who make him mad. But he can’t.”
I nod as a sad feeling settles over me at those words. “Yeah.”
He looks up at me. “And?”
I look into his eyes as they search mine, and I smile at him. He always knows when there’s something on my mind.
“He wants to know how to make decisions.”
His brow creases, and he tilts his head.
“Mr. Bell wants me to apply for IB next year,” I say. “To get ready for university.”
Silas’s eyebrows shoot up, then a wide smile spreads across his face. “That’s awesome.”
I nod, but my smile falters. “But I have to figure out what I want to study, so I know I’m choosing the right courses next year. And I don’t know… I have no idea. I like everything.”
Silas huffs a quiet laugh. “You’re good at everything, too.” His eyes flick between mine as he thinks. “Tech?”
I nod vigorously. “Yes. I love anything tech. But I also like math. A lot.”
He rolls his eyes. “Weirdo.”
I shove him back, and he laughs, then I slide back down to the floor. He sits beside me with the comic still open on his lap.
“You have some time to think about it,” he says, then passes me a pencil and flips the book to a blank page for a new comic.
I take it from him with a nod and hover the pencil over the paper, ready to start something new. Something that’ll help us both.
But I feel the hesitation coming off him.
I turn my head and catch that distant look in his eyes again.
“Hey.” I nudge him with my elbow, and he blinks, focusing on me again. “What’s up?”
“You could do anything,” he says.
I frown, trying to read the shift in him. Then it hits me.
“And I can do anything at the University of Prince Edward Island,” I say.
He releases a small breath. “You could go anywhere.”
I lift a shoulder. “Maybe.” Then my eyes drop to the drawing of the sunset on the floor beside me—every line in it shaped by Silas’s hand, capturing the curve of the coastline and the glimmer of the light on each wave.
The stillness and the movement of this place, perfectly captured in one image. “But I like it here.”
Silas doesn’t say anything, so I reach over and shove him just enough that he has to catch himself with one hand. His eyes spark with something lighter, and the corner of his mouth pulls up into a small smile.
“You and me, Si,” I say as he straightens up again.
He looks into my eyes for a moment, and I see the joy and ease creeping back in.
“You and me, Vi.”