Read Streaks of Blue: How the Angels of Newtown Inspired One Girl to Save Her School Page 16


  Nicole Janicek: You're welcome, Anderson.

  AC: First, how are you doing after such a traumatic experience?

  NJ: Very well, considering what happened. I know I'm very lucky to be alive right now.

  AC: Yes, and apparently so are many of your classmates and teachers. Do you have any idea when you might be able to go back to school?

  NJ: I'm hoping the doctors will clear me in a week or two. I'd like to get back before Homecoming weekend in early October if possible.

  AC: Yes, sometimes it's easy to forget with everything that happened that you're still a high school senior and you just want to experience all that goes with that, right?

  NJ: Absolutely. I've already missed so much time, so many classes and that's what frustrates me almost as much as getting shot.

  AC: I don't want to rehash too many details of the terrifying plot or what happened the night of September 14th due to the ongoing investigation and upcoming court cases, but can you give us a sense of what Lakeview is like and how well you knew the suspects?

  NJ: Yeah, sure. Lakeview is a pretty good school. I like it there most of the time. There are issues with cliques and labels and tensions just like any other school, but it's not the kind of place you'd expect to have a shooting. I actually first knew Adam back in elementary school. This school year I was in the process of trying to reconnect with him and be friends with him, but some of my former friends gave me a hard time about it.

  AC: In what way?

  NJ: One girl in particular called Adam trailer trash and said I was insane for trying to be friends with him.

  AC: Really?

  NJ: Yeah. And Thomas hated me for trying to be friends with Adam even though we didn't even know each other. He had a lot of anger and called me stuff behind my back. The night he shot me he called me 'Dead Girl Walking.' Before that he would say DGW this and DGW that, and I didn't know what he meant, but now I do.

  AC: That is chilling. And what is Adam like?

  NJ: He's angry at life sometimes, but not as much as Thomas is. There is good in Adam and I could see it. One time we went on a hike with my other friend, Candace, and he seemed happy that day for the most part.

  AC: Adam admitted his role in the plot to you and to police. Did he change his mind about wanting to go through with it?

  NJ: He was very depressed and confused, I would say. He had just found out his father has cancer. His mom had died when he was very young. I can't imagine having no parents. I think part of him still wanted to go through with the shooting and part of him didn't. He just seemed completely lost. I was trying to help him before we both got shot.

  AC: How do you feel when people call you a hero for your 11th-hour intervention?

  NJ: I'm not a hero. I was just trying to be someone's friend. If that qualifies for heroism today, then our country really is in trouble.

  AC: Well said.

  NJ: The real heroes are the six women who lost their lives trying to protect those children in Newtown.

  AC: They certainly are. I went to Newtown and interviewed some of the families of those brave women.

  NJ: They inspire me every day.

  AC: I can see that, Nicole. How surreal is it for you to be at the center of a story like this in your town?

  NJ: I don't think I even fully understand it yet. I'm just thankful that no one died this time. My school, my town and many other well-wishers have been so amazing with their support and concern for me over the past week. So I just want to thank them if they're watching right now.

  AC: Is there anything else you want to share about this whole experience before I let you go and you continue your recovery, Nicole?

  NJ: I guess the big lesson is to not take things for granted. It can all be taken away from you in the blink of an eye — even when you're 17. I'm just happy that this supposed dead girl is still walking. You know, I love hiking in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and I'm glad I'll get to do that again. I've hiked a lot of hard, steep trails ...

  AC: Already? At 17?

  NJ: Yes I have. But the hardest walk I ever made was very short and flat — the one from my table in the cafeteria to the table where Adam and Thomas sat about 25 feet away. As soon as I did that, everything changed ... mostly for the worst.

  AC: Outside of the obvious, in what way did everything change?

  NJ: Everyone judged me, judged them.

  AC: Would you do it all over again knowing this is what happened?

  NJ: Um ... no, I don't think I would ... and that's what's really sad. It was too little, too late. I wasn't enough. We have to reach out to kids sooner. Everybody needs to step outside of their comfort zone and become friends with someone who is different, no matter what that difference is. And we all have to do it much, much sooner than senior year of high school.

  AC: Remarkable words from a remarkable young woman. Thank you, Nicole, for speaking with me tonight and good luck with your recovery.

  NJ: Thanks, Anderson.

  AC: Enjoy Homecoming.

  NJ: Thanks. I will.

  ...

  Nicole almost had drifted off to sleep when her iPhone vibrated on the nightstand. She instinctively grabbed it in the dark and pressed it against her mouth.

  "Hello?"

  "Nicole, it's Dad," said Roger's husky voice, stirring her from her slumber and making her sit up on the bed faster than her wound could tolerate.

  "Ouch," she winced.

  "Ouch?" Roger asked.

  "Sorry, Dad ... I didn't mean you. I sat up too fast."

  "How bad is it?"

  "Getting better every day."

  "That's good. I wanted to call you sooner, but your mother didn't think it was a good idea."

  "I know."

  "I saw you on Anderson Cooper’s show tonight."

  "You did? Wow. Did I sound stupid?"

  Silence ... sort of.

  "Hello? Dad?"

  Nicole thought she heard her father crying, but that didn't make sense. He never cried.

  "Um, Dad ... are you crying right now?"

  "Yessss ... I am," he admitted while trying to repair his cracking voice.

  "Why? That's not like you."

  "I just wanted to tell you ..."

  Long pause. Nicole waited it out.

  "I'm proud of you, Nikki," Roger struggled hard to say, his positive words weighed down by a tone that failed to mask years of regret. "I'm so damn proud of my little girl."

  "Thanks, Dad ...," Nicole said slowly, searching for a toehold on this strange new slippery slope.

  "I'm gonna fly up and see you for Christmas this year. Is that OK?" he asked, now corralling his emotions slightly better.

  "You are?" Nicole replied, stunned. "But what about your family down there?"

  "You're my family, too, Nikki ... you're my family, too," Roger said, firmly. "I guess what I'm asking for here is ... a second chance. A second chance between you and me."

  Nicole paused for a moment as the tears rolled down her cheeks, but her voice remained strong and positive.

  "I've been given a second chance ... so how can I deny my Dad?"

  ...

  When Lynn drove Nicole to school on the clear, crisp morning of October 1st, the sight before them as they pulled into the Lakeview parking lot made them both laugh and cry out at the same time.

  "Look at this!" her mother yelled as Nicole's eyes strained to take it all in.

  The parking lot was jammed with students, teachers, administrators, police officers, firefighters, parents and even dozens of toddlers. Some held colorful signs that read "Welcome back Nikki!" and "BFF" and "Thank you!" and "Homecoming for Our Hero!"

  A town police officer directed Lynn to park her car in a reserved space in the middle of all the hoopla. It was like driving into a car wash of love and adoration. And when they both emerged from the car, Nicole beamed through tears at the swarm of people squeezing forward to hug her. She also laughed at how many of them had dyed their hair with streaks of
blue or wore ridiculous blue afro wigs. Derek (wig), Candace (dyed), Caleb (wig) and Mr. Richardson (yes, dyed!) were among the first to greet Nicole and embrace her like she had survived storming the beaches at Normandy in World War II. Ms. Alvarez, too, surprised her with a bear hug and a wig of blue.

  "I can't believe you even got on board with blue hair, Ms. Alvarez," Nicole said with a chuckle as they embraced almost uncomfortably long.

  "Thank you, Nicole," the counselor said into her ear before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

  "For what?"

  "For teaching us all — especially me — that we all still have a lot of learning to do," Ms. Alvarez said.

  "OK," Nicole replied, blushing at all the fuss being made. "But I'm the one who's way behind in my classes."

  "Don't worry, Nikki," Mr. Richardson interceded with a big grin as he proudly patted the puff of blue on the top of his head. "We'll get you all caught up in no time."

  "And make sure you still get to go to the Homecoming football game and dance," Derek said, stealing her away from the adults for a warm hug. That's when Nicole forgot about the crowd for one brave moment and jumped at the chance to kiss the handsome boy in the blue wig. They locked lips just long enough to draw a huge cheer from everybody.

  Everybody, that is, except Valerie Moore and Melanie Ferguson.

  They both stayed home from school that Wednesday with mysterious, matching stomach ailments.

  ...

  Adam immediately recognized that beat-up brown hiking boot with the red laces as if it were an old acquaintance. Sandwiched between the word "Wild" and the name "Cheryl Strayed" on a white cover, the boot now kicked him in the gut for opportunities wasted back when he was free to do whatever he wanted.

  Despite telling police and prosecutors the truth about everything; despite agreeing to play the role of star witness in the upcoming trial of Thomas James "Lee" Harvey, and despite the fact that his father was dying of liver cancer, Adam still had to serve a one-year term at the New Hampshire State Prison for Men in Concord. The judge told him he was lucky that was all he got, plus seven years probation, for conspiracy to commit mass murder at a school. With credit for time already served and good behavior, Adam had a good chance to be released sometime in the summer of 2015.

  In the meantime, while he was serving time, Adam took classes at the high school located within the prison complex. Correctional officers encouraged him to continue to work to achieve his high school diploma — even though he would never get to graduate with his fellow seniors at Lakeview Regional High School in June. He had no problem with that. How could he? Only a few months ago, Adam had fantasized about killing so many of those same students.

  Now incarceration was his reality. He stood in the prison library and hovered over a cart of books waiting to be sorted. The same book Nicole had encouraged him to read again and again — to no avail — now stared him in the face once more. "From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail," the smaller title said beneath the much larger word "Wild."

  Adam recalled Nicole talking about how the author felt lost after watching her mother die of cancer; how she turned to drugs and sex to ease the pain; how she felt alone in the world with no parents, no bearings, no direction; and how she ultimately found herself by trekking for hundreds of miles through the woods with a humongous pack she called "Monster." She set off with zero hiking experience and a pair of boots that tore the skin off her feet, but in the end, they transported her to a much happier place.

  One of those well-worn boots tempted Adam now, daring him to reach out and try it on.

  That's when he finally grabbed the book off the top of the cart, sat down at an empty table and began reading. Unbeknownst to the correctional officer observing the teen from 15 feet away, that simple action signaled the start of a new, much better chapter in the life of Adam Upton.

  CHAPTER 23 — KEARSARGE NORTH

  Nicole, Candace, Adam and Brody had hiked together for two miles since the three women dropped them off at the trail head on Hurricane Mountain Road. Lynn Barrett, Tracy Cooper and Donna Stanton — the paternal aunt of Adam and Brody — wanted to spend the day bargain hunting at nearby outlet stores. The air-conditioned aisles were far more comfortable and flat than the hot, steep trail the four teenagers had just ascended to reach the first band of ledges on Mount Kearsarge North. The 3,268-foot peak overlooked the resort town of North Conway, New Hampshire.

  "Here's the beginning of what we just huffed and puffed for," said Nicole, wearing her No. 12 Patriots jersey as she pointed to an opening in the pine trees. "Follow me," she added, leading her small band of hikers toward a rocky outcropping.

  "Wow!" Brody shouted, picking up his pace as the world opened up before his eyes into a breathtaking view to the south and west. "We're already up way higher than any skyscraper!"

  "Wait until we get to the top," Nicole told him. "You'll be able to see like this in every direction."

  "Yup, a 360-degree panorama," Candace agreed as she and Adam joined Nicole and Brody on the stony perch. "Plus there's a fire tower."

  "Cool!" Brody said with a grin.

  Nicole drifted over to some bushes and quickly found what she was looking for. "Come over here! Wild blueberries!" she shouted.

  "Sweet!" Candace said, stooping to pick some and popping them in her mouth. "Small, but very juicy."

  Adam and Brody soon did the same.

  "They peak in July, but there's still a few now in early August," Nicole said with a grin before filling her mouth with blueberries.

  Her smile soon faded while observing Adam's increasingly melancholy demeanor. Then she remembered why.

  "Adam, come with me for a second," she said, waving him back toward the main trail and away from the ledge so they'd have a chance to talk in private.

  Adam followed her and grabbed his backpack. The others had shed theirs near the ledge.

  "What's wrong?" Nicole asked.

  "I think this is the place I want to say goodbye," he said, his lips trembling as he held the strap on his pack tightly.

  "Really? OK. It's a very beautiful spot," she assured him.

  "I don't want to do it at the top," he said. "I want to enjoy that and this is going to be tough."

  Nicole nodded and gave Adam a warm hug.

  "Then that's what we're going to do," she said. "Candace knows, too. We just didn't know where you wanted to do it. Let's tell Brody."

  Adam pulled the small navy blue urn out of a box inside his pack and they rejoined Candace and Brody by the ledge.

  "Brody," Adam said. "It's time to say a final goodbye to Dad."

  "What? What do you mean?" the lanky boy asked. His voice was deeper and he had grown three inches in the past year, but he hadn't gained much weight.

  Somber yet resolute, Adam was ready to shed a different kind of weight.

  "When I told Dad in the hospital that we'd be hiking up here this summer, he said he wanted his ashes scattered in the mountains ... and this is the perfect spot to send him off," Adam said.

  Candace slowly stood up from her kneeling position amid the blueberry bushes and nodded respectfully as Brody tried to process it all. Nicole hugged the boy and guided him toward the ledge.

  Adam solemnly removed the urn's lid and prepared to say farewell, but it quickly became apparent that he couldn't find the words until it was done. With tears in all of their eyes and the spritely call of the chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee filling their ears, Adam poured the ashes over the ledge and into the valley of pine trees below.

  "Goodbye, Dad," Adam finally said, his voice choked with emotion. Somehow, he refused to cry. He was determined to remain strong for his brother.

  The sun emerged from behind a cloud directly overhead as Brody repeated Adam's words in a whisper: "Goodbye, Dad."

  Tears streamed down both of Nicole's cheeks. Candace wiped her eyes, too, as she helped Nicole prop Brody up with an arm around his other shoulder.

  Adam knelt down to put the e
mpty urn in the box. He slid the box back into his pack as it rested against a rock and then looked up at his brother. Immediately they both began sobbing. Adam quickly offered Brody his open arms as he stood back up. The brothers crashed into one another for a long, tight embrace and cried it all out. Nicole and Candace stepped back a few paces, held hands and gave the boys all the time they needed.

  As much as Aunt Donna had done for them over the past few months and would continue to do in the future, no one could replace Gary Upton — the man who belatedly blossomed into the father Adam and Brody both desperately needed. It took liver cancer to bring that out of him, but cancer also came with a heavy price.

  Nicole and Candace eventually approached the Upton brothers and wrapped them up in their arms for a final group hug. After a few moments, all of them felt a little better, and their packs seemed much lighter as they strapped them on for the final push to the summit.

  "Let's go," Nicole said. "You men have your first mountain to climb. It doesn't count until you reach the top."

  "Well then, Nikki, let's go," Adam said, forcing himself to smile through the pain as he followed her lead up the trail blazed with vertical rectangles of blue paint. Some could be seen on trees, others on rocks.

  To Adam, they all looked like little blue doors of hope — and he was eager to walk through every last one of them.

  ...

  When the four young hikers at last reached the rocky dome atop Kearsarge North, their heads and bodies seemed to rotate on an axis of exhilaration. Except for a few puffy clouds and a slight touch of afternoon haze, the view was clear and spectacular.