-3-
Life went on.
Within a week, Nick and Jennie became the hot couple. Heads turned when the two of them passed down the halls. I’ve heard that girls like a guy with a sense of humor. Nick certainly had that. He could even get most of the teachers to laugh. Once, he’d made Ms. Weldon laugh in the middle of a sip of coffee. She nearly choked.
The only teacher who never laughed was Mr. Loomis. I remember the time he said, “Nick, I don’t get your jokes. They’re just not funny.”
Without blinking, without even pausing for a second, Nick shot back at him with, “Maybe you should take my class. It’s called Humor for Teachers.”
That cost him a week of detention. He didn’t seem to mind. He joked about that, too. “Detention was great. What a learning experience. By the end of the week I’d learned how to hotwire a car, synthesize amphetamines, and smuggle contraband in my body cavities.”
Time passed.
I went on a couple of dates with different girls, but it all felt like nothing more than going through the motions. I hung out with other friends. The hole Don had left didn’t grow any smaller, but it moved further from the surface of my mind. I guess that’s the way the mind heals the really bad wounds.
More time passed. Looking back, three things stuck in my memory. The first happened about a month after Don’s funeral. I think it was right after math class. My pen had leaked during class so I stopped on my way down the hall to wash my hands. I ran into Nick in the bathroom.
“Hey, you and Jennie are quite a number,” I said, just making empty conversation.
“Two numbers, actually,” Nick replied, making a typical speed-of-light response. “Or a two-digit number, if you know what I mean. We’ve really flipped over each other.” He was out of the bathroom before I figured out the joke.
Maybe ten days after that, I passed him in the cafeteria. He was by himself. I guess Jennie had a class or something. She never seemed to join him for lunch. As I was walking by, Lou Watkins said to him, “So, you and Jennie getting serious?”
I paused to catch his response. I was sure it would be hilarious. But all he said was “Yeah, I suppose.” He almost sounded sad.
The third thing happened less than a week later. I was in chemistry and had reached for a beaker on the Bunsen burner before giving it enough of a chance to cool down. I’d yelled, tossed it clumsily from hand to hand, and ended up dropping it on the floor. As I blew on my fingers, I glanced over to my left and noticed Nick. He’d seen my whole juggling act. I knew he’d cut me up with some sort of comment.
But he didn’t say a word.
Maybe those three things wouldn’t have stuck with me, except for what happened next. That same evening, at 9:47, Nick Ferrano killed himself.
No joke.
– End Chapter Three –
