Favorite Friend

Still Sane

I don't call my dad, but Elena does. On Monday morning she comes strolling into my room like she has every right to, already fully dressed with a cup of coffee in one hand and her phone held between her shoulder and her left ear, and plops onto the edge of my bed.

"Yeah. I will, pá," she says.

I groan and bury my face in my pillow again to block out the sunlight.

"Okay," Elena says. "Feli is right here, do you want to talk to him too?"

My eyes immediately snap open. I sit up, shaking my head at her, but she ignores me. With a syrupy-sweet smile, she says, "Alright, bye! Talk to you soon!" and pushes the phone into my hand.

For a heartbeat, I'm tempted to just hang up, but then I take a deep breath and hold the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hola, Felipe," dad's deep voice sounds through the speaker. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," I mumble. "You?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. I've been on vacation with Samantha for a few weeks. We went to Bali. Terrific place." Samantha; his new and improved wife, who has the same hair color and build as mom but is twenty years younger. "Of course I would've asked you and Elena to come with too, but I know how busy you two were with school... Hey, aren't college applications coming up?"

"Those were eight months ago."

"Oh. Well. Did you get in?"

"Yeah, I... I got into the University of Arizona."

"Awesome! Awesome."

"Yeah. I read that it's really-"

"Listen, uh... I've gotta go now, Samantha has some kind of appointment," he cuts me off. "I'll talk to you again soon, alright?"

He hangs up before I even get to open my mouth. I look up at Elena, who's still sitting on the edge of my bed, and toss the phone into her lap.

"Great fucking talk," I say and get to my feet, shoving the blanket off me.

"Feli," Elena says. She's using the same drawn-out tone that mom talks in when she wants you to know she's disappointed about something you did.

"What?" I snap as I yank open my closet doors.

"Nothing. I just don't get why you always get so worked up about him. He didn't even say anything bad."

"This time," I point out. "And that's only because we only talked for like thirty seconds." One minute longer and he would've asked either 1) Do you have a girlfriend yet? or 2) Are you sure you still need therapy? Pretty expensive, your chats with that woman.

Elena only sighs, another echo of mom, and stands up. "Whatever. I have to go to work. What are you going to be doing today?"

"Hang out with Aaron."

"Of course you are," Elena laughs. "Have fun. I'll see you later."

I only nod, glad that, unlike Andrea and Isabel, she actually closes the door behind her.

When she's gone, I quickly change into the first clean items I can find in the mess that's my closet; a crinkled, oversized t-shirt and some baggy jeans. The rest of my clothes lies scattered around my room, along with a bunch of magazines and trinkets and school books I can't bring myself to throw out yet. Mom tells me at least once a day to clean, but even though the mess makes me even more anxious, I never find the energy to actually go in and do it.

By the time I make it to the kitchen, no one else is there anymore, which means that no one can judge me for only eating a banana for breakfast. While I sit at the table, I turn on my phone.