Page 19 of Something Forever
Falling back against my pillow, I feel a sense of restlessness down to the tips of my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I roll over and open my messages, typing out a text to Grayson, Luke’s dad.
Liam: Hey. Can I come over?
When I get to Long Island, he’s waiting for me at the station, standing next to his truck.
“Liam!” he calls, waving me over. He brings me in for a back-slapping hug, wrapping his arms around me. When he pulls back, he’s grinning from ear-to-ear. “Wow, you look like crap, son.”
I laugh despite myself. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“Seriously, when’s the last time you slept? Burning the midnight oil in study hall?”
Ever since Luke died, we’ve kept in touch, mostly through phone calls and the occasional visit. I try not to bother him, but when things get a bit much, or I feel like being around my parents without being around my parents, I take the LIRR out to Jamaica.
He climbs into the truck, and I follow him. This is the part I was dreading. It’s bad enough that I haven’t told my own dad that I quit school. I can handle his disappointment. In fact, I’m probably used to it by now. But Grayson? I don’t know if I can handle letting him down.
“Yeah… I kind of dropped out, actually.”
Almost as soon as we’ve started driving, he slams on the brakes. “What? Liam?—”
“Jesus! I know, I know.” I cling onto the door as a car honks behind us. “Just… can we not talk about it? That’s not why I’m here.”
He sighs and shakes his head, setting off again. “Alright. No problem.”
When we get to the house, he insists on making coffee and puts some cookies on a plate for me. Whenever I’d come stay with Luke, they’d send us both home with enough food to feed an army. I’m sure today will be no different.
“Listen, Mr. Monroe, the reason I asked to come over today is because I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“C’mon, man. How many times I gotta tell you? Call me Grayson.”
I run my hand through my hair. “Alright, Grayson. The truth is… I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I want to do something to honor Luke. To carry on his legacy. I’m thinking if I can somehow raise money to set up a scholarship in Luke’s name, then?—”
“Son…” Grayson interrupts me, tears gathering in his eyes. “That’s incredible, but you don’t have to do that. You should be focusing on your own future.”
“I want to. I feel like I owe it to him. To all of you.”
The truth is that this idea has been eating me up for months. I don’t just feel like I owe it to him, I know I do.
He shakes his head. “You don’t owe us anything.”
“Please,” I insist. “Let me do this.”
“Alright.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But there’s something you should see.” He gestures for me to follow him, and he leads me to Luke’s room.
I linger in the doorway, stuck by an invisible barrier of sentimentality and grief. I’ve only been here a couple of times before when Luke brought me home for Thanksgiving, but both times were enough to leave an impression on me. As all childhood bedrooms are, it’s his all over, exactly the same as the last time I was here.
Grayson reaches under the bed and pulls out a cardboard box. He puts it on the bed and turns to me. “I’ll give you a minute alone.”
He leaves, and I sit against Luke’s bed, already feeling a pressure building in my chest. I don’t know what’s in this box, but I’m sure whatever it is won’t be easy for me to see. Talking about Luke is hard enough. If it’s photos…
Taking a deep breath, I lift the lid off the box and peer inside. Inside is a handwritten plan for a foundation focused on tutoring students and helping them find scholarships to universities of their choice. It supports low income and first-generation high-schoolers interested in pursuing higher education, but who may not have the means.
Reading further, I find detailed notes, pages and pages of Luke’s inspiration laid out in full.
Mission Statement: making large, structural changes to effect individual change and ensure the success of every participant.
Wow.
I knew that Luke had big ideas, but I had no clue that he’d already started an entire business plan for a his very own foundation. Forget my scholarship idea — I have to do this. I have to finish the work that Luke started. It’s what he would want.