Met a Boy at Seventeen (Kellic)

Chapter 18

Chapter 18 - Kellin - I’ve Killed So Many Times

There are many things that piss me off. Some of them are trivial, such as collared shirts or the bent cover of a paperback book. Other things, such as intentional harm to Vic Fuentes, are not taken so lightly.

Unfortunately, I can’t do much about it, since it seems Vic is unable to recall any defining features of the dickhead who beat him up. He doesn’t even know if this guy has fucked with either of us before. He just knows that it most likely wasn’t Brutus (Vic doesn’t know his real name, either, so now it looks like we’re both calling him that) because he probably would’ve recognized something about him if it was. So now it is Thursday, the day after he called me, and I am at school, suspiciously observing anyone who might be the person I’m looking for. (This means pretty much everyone.)

Vic isn’t here; he’s staying home to rest. That move may or may not have been suggested by me. Let’s just say that I thought he needed a day off, especially after what happened to him.

My mind fools itself into thinking that Jack is still alive. It does this by acting as if Jack is only out sick—I find myself trying to gather updates for him from each of his classes, before realizing all over again that it doesn’t mean a damn thing.

I’m not sure which is easier: grieving at home or grieving at school. When Justin and I stayed home yesterday, it was almost unbearably grim most of the time. I couldn’t wait to get back here and distract myself. But now that I’m actually at school, I find that I still can’t. It’s just that now I’m surrounded by people who are moving on with their lives as if nothing has happened because they hardly knew him.

I decide that the best way to distract myself from the crushing reality that can’t be fixed is to think about the crushing reality that can be fixed: the fact that one of the bastards in this school has beat up my boyfriend and is walking around with no consequences. I tell myself that I’m not a very violent person, but thoughts like these make me think differently.

Do I care? At the moment, no.

All I care about is finding the person who’s guilty. Never mind the fact that that’s highly unlikely—logic is not with me today. Maybe it’s gone on vacation. So I find myself firmly believing that whoever hurt Vic is not going to go unpunished.

Some may ask me, “Kellin, do you realize that vigilante justice might not be the best route?” My answer is yes. Yes, I do realize this. But again, do I care? Not really.

Today is a lot less eventful than it usually is bullying-wise; as usual, I’m mostly untouchable, and Vic’s not here to be picked on, so there really isn’t much conflict that I’m involved in. It’s a nice feeling, to be able to walk down the hallway in peace.

I tell Gabe and Justin about what happened to Vic, and they try to talk some sense into me. They tell me what I already know in the back of my mind: that I am not going to easily be able to get revenge if I don’t even know who I’m getting revenge on. They know me, though, and they know that their words are falling not on deaf ears, but on ears that can hear and refuse to listen. So in the end, Gabe just says, “Do what you want,” and Justin tells me, “If you find that asshole, kick him where it counts for me.”

I’m really glad I’m not deaf, too, because if I was, I wouldn’t have heard what I hear as I walk into history: “Don’t worry, man. It was dark in that closet, and it was over quickly. They’ll never figure out it was me.”

Well, that’s interesting.

I linger near the doorway, knowing that I’ll be able to hear the conversation better here than at my seat, since they’re on the other side of the room from where I sit. One guy is saying to the other, “You’re sure? Nobody knows it was you?”