The next hours are a blur, the kind that invades your brain and lingers away the seconds fogging your judgement while urging you to tip over the edge. If I couldn't wrap my mind around how much this girl's wellbeing meant to me before, I can't now either. I'm a wobbly mess of useless limbs. Pathetic? Yes. Hopeless? Also yes.
After she walked away, limping while clutching her 'suicidal' boot as if her life depended on it, everything dissolved in the darkness of Elsie's depths. The more distance she put between us, the more I felt like bending over backward and hitting my head against the closest oak tree available. It wasn't supposed to go this way. To think I had the whole scenario mapped out so well, and it all went to shit.
I'd wanted to return the paper crown I found before it was squashed by thousands of teenage feet in their careless stride away from classes they loathe. Everyone knows how desperate students get while on a subject that is particularly annoying the living hell out of them. They want out of there fast, not looking back or even ahead as they collide against one another—a cacophony of clashing backpacks and underbreath cussing.
In between the mayhem I saw it—fragile, just like her, and something in me ignited. It became important for me to return it. Dawn should have it back. I couldn't stand the thought of a random person stepping all over it, crushing it and making it disappear.
I picked it up in a daze, my fingers trembling, and my heart rate speeding like a racehorse. Without thinking twice, I drew it to my face and the second it met my skin a faint smell of honey invaded my nostrils. It smelled like her. I stood there for a second longer than needed, while the rest of the scene played like a movie. Is that too crazy?
Who am I kidding? This is way too crazy. Like the fact I couldn't utter a sound after I took her out of that fucking lake. I thought to myself, "River, you freak, you don't have to say much. Just a couple sounds, words, remember? English words. Nada. Ni siquiera en Español. Not a sound."
Was she trying to kill herself? Was she? Why had the mere thought of that happening fragmented my world into so many pieces? Deep down I knew that with Dawn gone, I wouldn't be able to be the same in its orbiting emptiness. An icy shiver ran down my spine. My voice faded as the forest tilted, and the lake and its depths became a menace.
I'd wanted to talk to her, but all I could do is clutch my chest, burning with the strength of a hundred solar storms. The pain was too familiar, yet I didn't want it to control me. "Not now, please not now," I repeated the mantra over and over in my dizzy head.
I know solar storms aren't dangerous to humans on Earth's surface. But see? I wasn't on this planet anymore, but floating in outer space. So embarrassed by my lack of sorts, I felt like an unshielded astronaut, her piercing eyes bleeding radioactive particles with each blink she cast my way.
"You've already thanked me, Dawn." How were those words the only stupid ones that made their way up my raspy throat, past my dry lips and into the predicament we were both in?
That was it. She'd walked away. She'd turned her back on me and walked away. I'd followed her into the darkness of the forest, with the fault-finding thunder, and the heavens splitting open. I'd called her name. She'd turned to me for a second, and then that moment slipped away—like the rain through my frozen fingers.
"I'm sorry, Dawn," I said.
She didn't hear me, but ran faster instead. Her one boot and white sock puddling her way back to somewhere better than this place and time.
Pain laced through me once more, and I wasn't able to reach out to her. I wasn't enough to keep her safe. She looked haunted and afraid of me. The show was over. A pathetic performance on my behalf. Dawn was out of sight, limping her way home. So, with a downcasted head, I headed for mine.
I can't recall parking my motorbike in the garage or opening my front door. I must have headed straight to my room since I woke up in my bed, sprawled over my red comforter with the same clothes now a reeking, crumpled mess.
I stumble my way into my bathroom and look in the mirror. Who is the person with wild hair and dark circles under his troubled eyes staring back at me? Is this still me? How can a girl be affecting me this much? What is it about her that drives me to where she is like I have no other choice but to be there wherever that might be? Breathe her air. Choke on the same lake water. Battle the same demons that seem ready to snatch her away from this planet just when I'm starting to ...
"River, mijo, está listo el desayuno!" My grandma's call to breakfast breaks into my reverie. I let out a loud sigh as I towel dry my hair. Miss. Whiskers stares at me from the windowsill.
"What?" I fix my gaze on her green, curious eyes.
She leaps down, landing over the checked black and white bathroom tiles with feline elegance. After a couple of nudges on my leg, I lift her up and indulge her whims, earning mellow purrs in reward.
As I stroke her soft fur, my mind fights thoughts from my last moments with Dawn. I need to clear my head. Admitting this whole venture is bordering on the pathetic line, would sugarcoat my recent actions with the dignity I don't seem to have anymore. I must come to my senses. Get my former life back as soon as possible. Enough with this reckless behavior. If Mom knew about me skipping classes and randomness, she'd cry for days. Dad is away on a business trip for the rest of the month, so the least I need is for my folks to worry about their son's wilting common sense.
I make my way downstairs and listen to my brother complaining that I've eaten all the yogurt.
"I didn't eat it, Josh. I gave it to Miss. Whiskers here. She loves your yogurt, man. So take it up with her," I say, letting our kitty wander the kitchen.
My brother, six years younger than me, turns his blond head my way and sneers.
"As if," he says, pressing his lips together in a pout. He's so cheeky and looks nothing like me or any other family member. I love messing with him and the fact he's broken our genetic pool and turned it into a muddy pond. He's so easy to tease, bursting in flames the second I throw a twig of irony into the sibling banter pile.
"Dude, this kitty loves dairy!" I feign astonishment while indulging in my daily dose of sibling joy. I'm not a complete monster, so you know. I also play endless hours of basketball in our backyard with the little demon and let him win more often than not.
"I'm going over to Peter's to play Super Mario, Nana," Josh says, ignoring me. Smooth move, I've taught him well. I chuckle under my breath and glimpse at his infuriated gaze, eyes turned to slits and the works.
"Okay, and how do you ask nicely in our language, Joshy?" Grams favors Spanish, our mother tongue. She insists we speak it to carry it for generations to come.
"Grams, I don't know how," he says, while still wolfing down the remains of his bizcocho.
"I'm your abuela, my love," she says to him, "and of course you do, listen to your heart and let the words flow."
Her kind demeanor washes over me, flooding my insides with warmth. She's like the sun rays that make their way through our swaying linen curtains from the double-door that overlooks the garden. She has her begonias in there, with their asymmetrical, patterned foliage. Abuela tends them with such fondness. She claims they are the perfect addition of color to our shady garden with their bright blooms.
"Puedo ir a lo de Peter a jugar al Mario Bros., porfis?" Joshy's plea brings her such joy that she closes the distance between them to hug him, "Claro que sí. Diviértete mucho."
"Bye, loser," he says in my direction and I chase him off while he laughs in delight.
When I turn around, my grams is looking at me with weary eyes. I know what this is about, and I wish I didn't have to hear it.
"Have you taken your meds, River?" There it is.
"Sure have, Abu, no need to worry." She knows me too well and sees through my lie faster than I can concoct another. She knows I hate meds because they make my head foggy and vanish my energy faster than Joshy's yogurt.
"Ay, mijo, no le mientas a tu abuela que te ama tanto." Her worry creates deeper dents in her wrinkled temple. "You know how important they are. You have to take them daily. We must look after this gorgeous heart of yours, no other like it." She comes closer to me, and rests her left hand on mine. I lower my gaze to stare at our fingers and marvel at how alike they look. I cover them with my right hand, and she smiles in return. Drawing circles over her protruding knuckles, I beam at her.
"I'm being careful, I promise. Gotta go now, Thaddeus is waiting for me. We have this assignment due tomorrow. Tell Mom I'll be back for supper." I kiss her cheek.
A quick exit. A coward exit. Another lie.
All I want to do is to be alone with the thoughts I swore I'd leave behind. Why? Because thanks to Dawn, I've become something other than this sick kid, with a faulty heart that won't pump right. I'm the guy who took her out of the lake. I'm River, the one that sticks around for her aftermath. I don't care if I almost fainted back there. I saved her. I fucking saved her life.
Go to hell, heart. If I don't get through to her, I'll meet you there.