Joey's Story: The April Fools Day Suicide

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It was a morning, like any morning. A Monday, like any Monday. A mid-October day like any other in the season. The leaves had by then started to change from all hues of green toward the tawny golds and russet reds and earthy browns of autumn; our peaceful town with its mild winters was still warm, the lowest temperature at low forties, with only a sharp, cold breeze every once in a while to remind us that Jack Frost would soon be nipping at our noses.2

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I sat at my old marked-up desk next to the window in the back left corner of Mrs. Diablo's homeroom class. Looking outside simply for the sake of losing myself in the gorgeous colors of my favorite season, daydreaming as usual, I imagined that I wasn't the only child of lawyers. That I wasn't the plain, lonely wallflower that I was. That I actually had some brains, some dreams, some kind of aspiration... but the point was...4

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I wasn't going to amount to anything real in my life, and I knew it.6

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But I could still dream.8

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That was why I liked the window seat. Staring out a window and watching the scenery go by - from the hues of the fall leaves to the damp grey walls of the downtown - it was so easy to zone out into a world of my own, where perhaps I was a heroine or a tragic, misunderstood villainess or even a pained lover. Unlike reality, everything was possible within my own imagination. Back then I wouldn't have changed a thing. I didn't care that no, I wasn't really going to be anything but a small-town girl in a small-town world; anything I could imagine being or doing in reality was always so dull compared to what I could do within my own mind. So it didn't matter to me what became of my reality, as long as my sweet escape was always present.10

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However, that was the fateful day that would mark the beginning of the new chapter of my boring life.12

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There was a new student in our eighth grade class. Normally, I wouldn't have paid attention and gone back to the daydreaming that was my favorite reality and let the words of Mrs. Diablo and everyone else filter through my ears, but there was some kind of aura about Joey McWright.14

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He had dirty blond hair - the straight, silky kind that curls out a little at the ends and slants towards a guy's face - down to his earlobes. He had a gorgeous tan, lightly freckled face, and the rest of him was tan too - tan and lean, but with definite muscle underneath - because he was a transfer student from Miami. He was tall, about 5'8" if I'd have to guess. His blue, blue eyes seemed to see right through everyone in the classroom: the preps, the populars, the phonies, the freaks... and me, the indifinitive one with no stereotype to call her own. I was the average, plain one that people often overlooked, but somehow I knew Joey McWright hadn't overlooked me. He had seen deeper than the surface.16

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What was most mesmerizing about this handsome boy's features was not his figure, nor his eyes, nor his hair. No. What separated him from the rest was, more or less, his smile. As he smiled at us all I could feel the hearts of the girls melt and the boys of the class warming up to him, ready to accept him as one of their own. When he smiled the birds that had not yet migrated south started to sing a song of pure bliss and joy. When Joey McWright smiled, it seemed like everything in the world was set right.18

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Mrs. Diablo told Joey that he could pick one of the classroom's empty seats. I saw both boys and girls watching him hopefully, wondering whether this demigod of a teenager would choose to sit next to them.20

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And of all the people, of all the empty seats, Joey McWright picked the one next to mine.22

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"Hi," he said, introducing himself again. "Name's Joey... who're you?"24

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After a second I managed to stammer out my name: "M-mia... Mia Boyette."26

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And he nodded coolly, taking it all in stride, and then sat down at his chosen desk.28

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For the rest of the morning I could feel jealous eyes boring holes through my soul.30

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But I didn't care.32

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I had never believed in love at first sight. But now I knew that I would never doubt again.34

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Over the course of the year, Joey and I managed to become friends. We had four out of six periods together. He passed me notes asking my opinion, let me borrow his pencils, and let me copy his homework when I forgot. Eventually he had me pulled into the scheme and we were laughing and giggling in the back of the class constantly. Even when I got sent to detention, Joey did something bad so he could follow me. I would never know what so endeared me to Joey; whether it was that he pitied me for loneliness or saw some kind of rarity in me that even I failed to see, it was always Joey McWright who reached out to me. Not once was it vice-versa. Not once did I pass him a note, crack a joke, or have him copy my homework. I was too shy, afraid that even one wrong move would ruin the relationship that had been born. Nor did I really have the chance to do any of these things.38

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One way or another, by the end of Joey's third month at Parker-Ellington High, even the teachers had to admit we were practically inseparable.40

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We told each other everything.42

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Or, almost.44

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Joey had no idea that I was crazy about him.46

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I had no idea about his home life.48

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However, in the beginning of February, my beautiful Joey - that was how attached to my now-best friend I was: he was mine - came in with a black eye.50

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Everyone was worried and poor Joey was bombarded with concerned inquiries about what had happened. He dismissed it easily, saying simply that he fell. When I asked him he gave the same answer. Somehow, I doubted that Joey had gotten that nasty bruise from merely a fall... but he was still laughing and smiling like normal, so I let it go and went on with my life.52

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But there was his fatal mistake. Now I was on the lookout.54

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Several times before Valentine's Day, I noticed bruises in odd places of which I wouldn't have had I not been suspicious and paranoid. I also noticed something else. Winter temperatures in Georgia were fairly high. Most kids just wore short sleeves all the time.56

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But Joey always, always, always wore long sleeves and pants... no matter the day or the weather.58

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On the fateful holiday of February 14, mine was among the seventeen love letters Joey recieved from his (not so) secret admirers. He didn't notice. He threw the whole pile away and, as much as it hurt, I realized I really didn't want my sweet Joey to know that I loved him - it could ruin the delicate relationship we managed to maintain.60

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Our other classmates might not have noticed, but I saw that Joey's smiles were becoming more rare. No longer every morning did he grace us with a room-brightening flash of perfect white teeth. The jokes he cracked with me were darker humor, and sometimes I got a feeling that he was pretending to be amused by them.62

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Some things would have led me to believe that Joey hadn't noticed that I noticed him changing.64

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Some things would have led me to believe that he was sending me signs; crying out for help.66

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The second week into March...68

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My beautiful Joey stopped smiling altogether. Not even for me could he dredge up the will to flash his pearly whites.70

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Now I had deep suspicions. Intuition. No, more than that. I knew .72

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But the problem was that I was not comfortable enough with anyone but Joey to talk about something like that. I was still too shy, too insecure, too selfish.74

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So I said nothing.76

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One week before my birthday, the first day of April - and over the years, I had indeed been the butt of many April Fools pranks - Joey disappeared.78

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He wasn't at school, nor was he at home. 80

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Like everyone else, I worried about Joey. But since I knew something they didn't... I worried the most.82

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My birthday that year was the worst of my past and future life.84

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We filed into the classroom on the morning of April 1st, apprehensive and terrified, nervous and anxious because Mrs. Diablo was crying with her head in her hands at her desk.86

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After the bell rang, she told us the news.88

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The body of Joey McWright had been found floating downstream in a local river, holding his new stepfather's pistol in his hand, with a bullet in his temple. The of the bullet's entrance proved what we already knew...90

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That Joey, my sweet, beautiful Joey, had truly meant to leave us.92

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All the girls cried. Even some of the boys shed tears.94

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As for me...96

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I sobbed the hardest of them all, harder than I ever had and ever would over anything. 98

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Because my beautiful, my gorgeous, my sweet, sweet Joey was gone forever... and had I been in the least bit unselfish and told someone that I had known... then he would still be here.100

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Laughing,102

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Smiling,104

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Alive.106

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Mrs. Diablo came up to me, holding out a note.108

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"He left it... for you," the teacher sobbed as I took it and then walked away.110

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I read the scrawl on the front that said 112

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From Joey114

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To Mia 116

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And then opened it to read the inside.118

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I hate him. I always hated him. He was horrible to my mom right after the marriage was legal. He was horrible to both of us.120

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I know you knew.122

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Why didn't you say anything?124

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But that's not important... I'm glad you kept quiet. Now I'm free of him.126

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I just wanted you to know something.128

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You're more than what you think you are, Mia. You're special; you're unique. You're one in 6.5 billion. You're you. You're perfect. And the great thing about you... is that you don't even know it.130

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I'm sorry, Mia.132

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Goodbye.134