Chapter 4 – CJ
Life was strange. It was rarely easy. Even when it was easy, a hard edge wrapped around that soft core.
Usually, though, it was brutal and unfair.
Forever and always uncertain. No one knew what tomorrow might bring.
Your end days, misery, or success. Yet, somehow, life was still beautiful.
Until recently, CJ had never truly considered life’s vagaries. He and his family were alive. The end.
Considering the world he’d grown up in, he hadn’t thought much about death either, especially his own. He just knew he’d die one day and cease to exist. It hadn’t frightened him because he it was an inescapable fact that he’d one day face.
Until a few months ago, his existence had been simple, straightforward. Charmed. He’d never worried about clothes, food, the love of his family, or a roof over his head; he’d had it all in excess. He’d had dreams of joining the club, marrying Harley, and following in his father’s footsteps.
Then…
He’d met Molly Harris, a sweet girl with a motherfucker for a father and a drug-addicted mother. Molly didn’t have much except for her pretty smile and big heart. She didn’t have a lot of safety, money, or love.
The day their science teacher paired them on their big project ruined CJ’s relationship with Harley. She’d already broken his heart once. Jealousy toward Molly made her rip that motherfucker clean out of his chest and stomp the bloody shreds.
As much as Harley’s rebellion devastated him, he never regretted not going to Mr. Billson and requesting a new partner to appease her.
He’d been guilty of nothing. During one of his many reflections on that situation, he realized he would’ve seemed guiltier if he had gone to the teacher and asked to switch. Or, maybe, he would’ve seemed weak.
He and Molly worked diligently on their project until her fuckhead father destroyed it in a fit of motherfuckery that CJ still hadn’t forgiven, even after discovering his uncle, Bash, killed that fuckbag.
Before CJ and Molly rebuilt their Science Fair submission, Tom Harris stole her from the hospital. By the time she was rescued, Billson had assigned CJ another partner. CJ protested on Molly’s behalf. He’d rebuilt their project. It was unfair to her that he push it aside to help Skye Ratcliffe.
Billson’s small concession that CJ enter his and Molly’s project in round one appeased him slightly but was a brutal reminder about the uncertainty of life.
As if he needed another one.
CJ roamed the aisles in Lewis Hall, the Upper School cafeteria, checking out his classmates’ submissions and constantly circling back to keep a watchful eye on his and Molly’s.
Tense energy hummed in the room and heightened CJ’s nervousness.
The sharp tang of vinegar, rubbing alcohol, and smoking hot glue guns completely overpowered the usual lunch rush smells of food, cleaning agents, and various body sprays the girls favored.
Long rows of folding tables replaced the familiar eating clusters, creating a rigid grid of numbered aisles packed with nervous students.
Thick black extension cords snaked down the center of each walkway, secured to the floor with heavy strips of silver duct tape.
Every tabletop served as a battlefield of academic ambition, crowded with brightly colored tri-fold presentation boards that formed a chaotic sea of neon cardboard.
Cardstock charts, handwritten hypotheses, and glossy photos warped under the harsh glare of buzzing fluorescent lights and the humid air generated by dozens of packed bodies.
In front of the displays sat fizzing chemical beakers, clicking robotic arms, and bound research logbooks with dog-eared pages.
CJ’s classmates, his competition, fidgeted with cue cards.
A distinct divide stood between the standard cardboard displays in the center and the slick, glowing digital screens of kids who monopolized the perimeter wall outlets.
A visual wealth gap that he’d never noticed before but couldn’t help to now because of the girls assigned as his partners.
He’d never even considered digitizing their presentations.
He wondered how Skye felt about that.
On his way to school, he’d picked her up, while Axel, Ransom, and Ryder sat on the second row of Mom’s Lexus.
Instead of tormenting him and Skye, the Terrible Triplets talked amongst themselves, a small victory in CJ’s estimation while he and Skye vibed to music.
Not long after their arrival, a committee selection member gave them their steps for the next round, though his project with Molly remained stuck in the cafeteria.
They were still choosing submissions to advance, so CJ stayed hopeful, helping to break down his and Skye’s booth and reassemble it in their allotted space in the auditorium, which was where she was now, checking their logbooks and everything else for tonight’s presentation.
CJ wanted to help her. Truly, he did. She was his partner through no choice of his, just as Molly had been. But his commitment was to Molly and their time together before life intruded and took her away from him.
As Mr. Billson and several other teachers from the science department tapped other students to move their booths to the auditorium, CJ worried that his exhibit with Molly wouldn’t even get a chance at one of the prizes.
He’d planned to give her the money, though that wasn’t important. He wanted her to have the certificate, proof that their hard work meant something.
Fuck, if it came to it, he’d ask one of the winners to show him their certificate and make one similar for Molly, then give her the prize money out of pocket.
A claustrophobic haze thickened the atmosphere as the initial judging continued, punctuated by the constant shuffle of sneakers and a deafening echo of overlapping speeches.
Grim-faced adults holding wooden clipboards drifted through the aisles like predators, their critical frowns casting a chill over the room as they leaned in to grill students, some terrified, others confident, and others holding onto faith they’d make the cut.
Every now and then, he paused to admire his classmates’ work, taking a moment to discuss the submission. He barely heard the words, though. His heart, and his head, were elsewhere. Finally returning to his and Molly’s display to await directions, relieved him.
The trifold board took front and center with sharp photos, three diagrams, the hypothesis and the results. Their research paper lay next to the actual build and on top of the logbook and other paperwork that included their entry number.
Perhaps, one day, he’d be able to show her. No matter what happened, he planned to save everything. However, he snapped several photos, then planted himself in front of their booth, switched the camera around and pressed ‘record’.
“Hey, bae. I wish you were here with me. I miss you so fucking much.” He stepped aside, panned his phone camera over their presentation, then turned it toward himself again and smiled. “We did good, Molly. No matter what happens, I’m proud of you.”
The moment he ended the recording, his smile faded and he heaved in a deep breath.
“Problems, Mr. Caldwell?”
Mr. Billson’s voice intruded upon CJ’s misery. Turning, he met the teacher’s brown gaze. He was dressed more casually than on a normal class day. CJ suspected Billson would change out of his jeans, blazer, and T-shirt before tonight’s program, but didn’t bother to ask.
He shrugged. “Just waiting until I’m given the word to break down Molly’s booth to move it to the auditorium, sir.”
“The project won’t be included in the presentations,” Mr. Billson announced, bursting the last of CJ’s hopes and raising his hackles.
“That isn’t fair, sir—”
Axel, Ransom, Ryder, and Skye walking up interrupted his intended argument.
“I was waiting for you,” she said, tempting him in a pair of low-rise jeans and fitted T-shirt.
Her honey-blonde hair was swept up and kept in place by hair sticks.
Her lips glistened as if she’d just been kissed but he’d watched her apply gloss after he’d parked.
She’d created that look on purpose. “You never returned to the auditorium and I didn’t know what happened to you. ”
“Told you where he was,” Axel responded.
“We all did, Skye,” Ryder added.
Skye stomped her foot and her tits bounced. “You’re my partner, CJ. You should be with me.” She indicated the project CJ had poured his heart and soul into for Molly. “This isn’t even in the final round.”
“You knew?” CJ demanded, even more irritated that he noticed anything about her. She was so fucking annoying.
She lifted a brow. “You didn’t?”
“Clearly not,” CJ snapped.
Axel looked at CJ with suspicion, but CJ raised his hand to forestall the little motherfucker’s questions about his cognizance.
“Don’t you even fucking ask if I’m senile, Axel,” CJ ordered.
Stiffening, Axel narrowed his green eyes. They both ignored Mr. Billson clearing his throat and folding his arms, and Skye’s giggle.
“I can ask you what I want,” Axel spat. “It’s my brain and my fucking mouth, so fuck you.”
CJ didn’t have time to entertain that little monster. He had tossed and turned most of the night, nervous about just this scenario. He’d texted Harley and she’d advised him to plead his case if his and Molly’s presentation was left out of the final round.
“When we got here, I saw the red tickets on the tables that were moving to the next round.” Ransom cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t, CJ?”
“No,” he snapped. “I didn’t.” He turned to the teacher. “Mr. Billson—”
“It’s already decided, Mr. Caldwell. I cannot change the votes.”
“Molly isn’t even here, CJ,” Skye complained. “When I campaigned for our project to move on, I pointed that out.”
“You sabotaged Molly’s submission?”
“The stupid thing didn’t even get to the next round,” Skye argued, her words further outraging CJ.
“You’ve never met Molly, Skye, but you know me. You know I wanted my project with her to have a chance at the grand prize.”