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didn’t want to be indecisive any longer; especially if it meant that it would disappoint my grandfather.
    The next morning, the phone rang at six a.m. with the news that my grandfather had passed away in his sleep. I was devastated by the news, although I tended to exhibit a lack of emotion when it came to death. I would miss my grandfather. He meant the world to me. All I could do was make good on my promise to him.
    At the funeral, I told the story of how my grandfather had once bought me a fancy jacket when I was in the fifth grade. Lake was in the city working at a fancy law firm, refinishing their conference table. The head lawyer had just bought his own son a fancy bomber jacket, but realized it was the wrong size. It was Christmas Eve and too late to return the jacket, so he sold it to my grandfather at a tremendous discount. When I received the jacket on Christmas Day, I was stunned. It was the most gorgeous leather jacket I had ever seen, the kind worn by Air Force fighter pilots. It was heavy, thick, and had wool around the collar, and patches with names of flying squadrons on the sleeves. It was a jacket I had only seen in the movies and in clothing catalogs, not something my family could otherwise afford. When I wore the jacket to school, some kids liked it, and some loathed it. The fifth grade bullies decided to tease me about it. I felt angry, but also dejected, because I knew how incredible it was that my grandfather was able to get me this jacket.
    I complained that I didn’t want to wear the jacket, that it brought me unwanted attention. Lake put his hands on my shoulders and lowered himself to where he could look me in the eyes. He said that if I couldn’t wear that jacket in the fifth grade, then later in life I wouldn’t be able to wear success either.
    “It’s not about the jacket, it’s about having confidence. There will always be people that will have something nasty to say when you have something good in your life. You have to be able to block out these people and walk in confidence. That’s how you’ll get to the Canyon of Heroes in Manhattan one day. And they’ll throw you a ticker tape parade.” I kept wearing that jacket, even after one of the bullies slashed it and ripped a hole in it.
    His casket was lowered into the ground at St. Michael’s cemetery in Astoria. He had a small, engraved piece of brick instead of a fancy headstone. After everyone left, I approached the burial spot. I was ashamed that we were so poor that we could not afford a nicer headstone. He deserved better and one day I hoped to make enough money to buy him the best headstone in the entire cemetery.
    Death is a reminder that life is short. When I returned to school, I was determined to ask Delancey out on a date.
    Consumed with nervous energy and anxiety, I paced non-stop outside her last class of the day. Breathing no longer was automatic for me. Perspiration trickled down my temples. The bell rang and her class dispersed. Stampeding students savagely exited the classroom, and within seconds their bodies evaporated from the hallways. She was still inside, speaking to her teacher. Peering conspicuously, my eyes fixated on her long hair and her long legs. Forcing breath to fill my lungs, I repeated the lines I had rehearsed all night. Inadvertently, some of the rehearsed lines could be heard outside of my head, as I mumbled the phrases that I no longer felt would adequately suffice.
    Delancey walked out of the classroom. I called out her name. The world slowed down for me, and as her head turned in my direction, I abandoned my seasoned script.
    “David? What are you doing here?” she asked, smiling, but looking mostly confused.
    “Delancey, …uh…how’s it going?” I asked.
    “Fine. I had to talk to Mrs. Moynihan about a project due for her class next week. How’s it going with you?”
    “Great. So busy. Looking for a job on the weekends. You know…need extra money for senior year.”
    “Well…it was