28. Luke
CHAPTER 28
Luke
BEGINNING OF JUNIOR YEAR
Aunt Judith
We missed you last Sunday at church! Andrew has your package. Kisses.
Closing my messenger, I take a quick glimpse at the time displayed on top of my screen. 8:00 p.m. Not too late to stop by at Andrew’s dorm first and grab the drawings and little nick knacks Becca makes me every weekend. I really hope he’s alone right now. I don’t want to have to see Gigi. That girl just talks and talks and talks.
I scroll down until I find my cousin’s name and shoot him a text.
Yo, you in your room? Your mom says you have something for me.
An hour goes by and my phone hasn’t dinged since I sent Andrew a message. As I pack my laptop in my backpack, I decide to just take my chances and head over to his building. It’s on my way to the parking lot anyway. If I’m lucky, he’ll be in his room minus his girlfriend and maybe the two of us can hang out, just the two of us. Like old times.
The second I step out of the library, my pace quickens. I feel the excitement bouncing off my steps as I make my way to where Andrew lives now. I still can’t believe that our places are fifteen minutes away from each other. We’ve never lived this close before. This is going to be the start of a new era, I feel it in my fucking bones. I can already picture us as close as we were before.
For the past year and a half, the moment Andrew and Gigi became official, we started hanging out less and less. A part of me is bitter that he rarely shows up to church anymore, but another part of me gets it. That dude is in love. I’ve never been in love, but if I were him, maybe I’d skip hanging out with my family too so that I can be Siamese twins with my girlfriend. I just wish he picked out a different one for himself.
My phone rings and sure enough, it’s him.
“You home?” I ask. Andrew doesn’t answer, and from my end, I can only hear heavy breathing. Did he seriously butt dial me? “I’m head—” Before I can finish my sentence, he hangs up. I laugh to myself as I shake my head. Fucking weirdo .
The Westgate hall is right in front of me. Above the glass front door, the second window of the third floor is ajar. I think that’s his room, but I’m not too sure. I’m bad with layouts, but I’m pretty sure it’s that one since I helped him move in two weeks ago. We’ve only met one other time since he was busy with orientation and Gigi, and I had to wrap up my summer internship. To cancel last Sunday was tempting, just so I could make the drive with Andrew back to his town and meet Becca at church, but the company threw a farewell barbecue for the interns.
Seeing smoke coming out of the space, I’m 100 percent sure it’s his room. I chuckle to myself, taking a mental note to call him out on it and tell him to smoke his blunt outside next time. I bet he doesn’t know that when the faculty renovated his building last year, they also installed CCTV cameras pointing directly at his window.
I’m downstairs.
Putting a hand on my hip, I feel frustration slowly building inside of me. I’m not mad, not really. I’m just really excited to see Andrew. When I see a guy walk out of the entrance, I jog over so that I can let myself in and not wait for Andrew to reply or call me again.
“Dude, it’s me,” I say, my voice raised since my knocks are going unanswered, despite the fact that I heard a thud when I first got here. Fifteen minutes pass by before I roll my eyes in defeat. “Whatever,” I mutter to myself, making my way back downstairs. Maybe he’s wearing headphones or maybe Gigi is in there and they’re fucking.
I’m playing a video of Gigi at a pizza parlor with her roommate that popped up on my Instagram feed when I bump into white Converse sneakers and a dark pair of jeans.
“Sorry, man,” the masculine voice booms.
Taking my eyes off my screen, I spot a familiar figure in front of me. “Hey, Darryl, right?” I ask, not being able to hide the giddiness that’s slowly coming back in my voice. Must be my lucky day. “Luke. Andrew’s cousin? You’ve met me. We played a round of Fifa together?”
“Oh, yeah.” He gives me fist bump as he grins. “What’s up?”
“You going to your room?”
“Nope, I’m going to chill out with a buddy of mine.”
“Would you mind giving me the passcode?” I ask, resting my hand on the back of my head. “I’m here for Andrew, but he’s high off his ass, I think.”
Darryl chuckles to himself. “Dude, being high off his ass is probably good for him. Your cousin is intense.” I feel my eyebrows scrunching. Andrew and intense are not two words that should go together in a sentence. Slapping my back with a palm, Darryl walks out of the building. “It’s nine-nine-two-seven. Catch you later, maybe.”
Through the red and blue lights beaming, I can see her. Her hair is wild and her makeup smeared from the tears that are falling freely from her face like a waterfall. I have never once seen Giuliana Bankowski cry. But there she is, the girl that’s usually sunshine and rainbows. The girl who likes to post videos on social media narrating every single mundane thing like it’s the most important thing on Earth, all tattered and coming undone.
“Luke!” she screams out my name in wails.
“Luke! Tell me it’s all a big misunderstanding!” she wails like somehow, if she says it enough times, it will come true.
Knowing Andrew would probably want me to do this, I take four defeated steps toward her, parting the crowd of students whispering and taking goddamn pictures of the yellow tape in front of the entrance. Of the ambulance that just drove away to the morgue. Of the two police cars parked right at the foot of the building.
I pull a screaming Gigi closer to me. We weren’t close enough for a tight hug, so I snaked one arm around her, feeling wetness on my shirt. “Uncle Mike is on his way. You can ride with me if you want,” I offer, knowing she doesn’t have a car.
“May…maybe you’re mistaken,” she says, her body shaking. “Luke, he wouldn’t.” Again, she repeats the words like somehow it will make this any different.
“Gi…” I pause. What can I say? “I saw him.”
“How?”
“You don’t want to know that,” I whisper, feeling my own eyes pricking.
“Please, Luke,” she begs. “I need to know. Otherwise I’m going to think he’s going to walk out of there and laugh, saying he pulled a prank on us.” The sound of Gigi’s voice cuts through my bones. She might not be my favorite person, but I feel my fist clenching. It’s fucked up, I know, but I’m furious at Andrew right now. As furious as I can be at someone. I remember when I was a carefree twelve-year-old. This shit that he just did will do a number on her, no doubt.
“You sure?” Gigi nods frantically. I let her go so I can use my hand to scrub my face, bracing myself for what’s to come. “He hung himself. I’m really sorry.”
Gigi crouches on the ground. Her screams are causing people to shift their focus on her. I’m about to scream at the group of girls pulling out their phones to take a picture of Gigi, but luckily, Kai, who saw me puke next to the tree half an hour ago after calling the police, my uncle, and Gigi, is already yelling at them to fuck off.
I hear her breathing become erratic. Gigi is clawing at her neck, the tears in her eyes now replaced with panic. I know that look well. I’ve experienced it before. Had I not been trained exactly for this moment eight years ago, I would probably be next to her doing the same fucking thing.
A memory of what Aunt Judith did for me at my family’s funeral when I had my first panic attack flashes in my mind.
“Your mother told me about this beach she went to once. Cape Charles, I think. She said it was her favorite place in the world. She also loved the park next to her office, doesn’t she? She always took her lunch break there.” I want to tell my aunt to stop, but the words are not leaving my mouth. It feels like a ball of cotton is lodged in my throat. Massaging my shoulder, she looks at the gravestones in front of us. “Think of happy thoughts, Luke. Picture the beach. Picture the park. Picture a happy memory with her. You got this, honey. I know it’s hard, but you got this.”
“Whatever picture you have in your head of him right now, replace it, Gi.” It’s like she doesn’t even know I’m here, so I put my palm on her back.
“Think of happy thoughts, Gigi. Picture the ocean. Picture the park. Picture Andrew when you two were together. Happy.”