A New Reflection

18. Disappointment

Nati, I'm going to Costa Rica.

I can already feel my insides rolling up and tumbling downwards into a dark abyss known as "disappointment."

When? I type. We have arrived home, and I have snuck into my bedroom with my new dress wrapped in plastic and the shoebox from Macy's.

Alex responds first with a dejected face emoji.

Tomorrow afternoon. I just decided an hour ago. I've spend all of my non-existent life savings on the ticket.

A sensation of helplessness overtakes me—that desperate feeling when you think there must be some way to change your reality, like waking up from a dream, but you know with bitter certainty that there's absolutely nothing you can do.

My uncle called me. I'm worried sick about my brother. I have to go see him.

I wonder what sort of childhood they must have had, for his brother to end up addicted to drugs. Alex has mentioned his dad not being around and growing up in a crappy apartment in Stockton. It stings my heart. In my family, I've only ever known love, support and security.

How long will you be gone?

It takes him a long time to answer, the three dots appearing and disappearing several times.

I'm not sure. I bought a one-way ticket.

My chest is tight as I clutch the phone in my right hand. I wonder about his classes at the community college and his job. There's a knock on my door, and my dad enters gingerly.

"Hi, sweetie. Did you find a dress?"

I discreetly toss my phone next to me on my bed and attempt to smooth out my twisted up face.

"Yeah, I did. It's periwinkle," I say, registering the randomness of my absent-minded response. To humor Dad, I roll up the plastic so he can take a glimpse.

"That's nice!" he comments with simplicity.

"Yeah. There are a lot of hideous dresses out there," I remark. "But we finally found this one at the twenty-second store we entered."

Dad chuckles.

"Well, I'm glad you were able to find something you like. Mom has the leftovers heated up. Are you just about ready for dinner?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'll be out in a couple minutes."

I collect my phone after he has partially shut my bedroom door, and I see Alex's newest text.

I will miss you Nati. I've really enjoyed spending time with you these past weeks. You are a pretty cool person.

My heartbeat is thudding inside my head.

There are so many questions I'm dying to ask him. I need to know if he wanted to kiss me when he dropped me off last night. I want to ask him what would have happened on our next car ride home. I have to know if he truly thinks I'm pretty.

Me too, I also enjoyed hanging out with you. I'll be wishing the best for your brother.

He sends me a red heart.

I'm gonna go pack.

The final text I compose only in my head reads: Do you really like me, Alex? Are you going to keep writing, or is this goodbye?

* * *

I don't hear from Alex on Sunday, and I miss him as if he's 4000 miles away in another country, even though we usually don't text on Sundays anyway.