It takes me a while to leave the ocean. It’s dark outside, and if I curl my hands around my eyes like binoculars, all I’d be able to see is stars and sky and sea. And it feels like a safe place to be, where nobody else can see or hear me.
Akane has a sun goddess to remind her to be strong. Maybe my inspiration comes from a hundred stars—a hundred suns—all reminding me that I’m not alone.
I turn around and look through the window. Jamie is standing with Rei and her friends, blending in like he always does. He doesn’t see I’m watching him, and I’m glad.
I think it’s better if he doesn’t know he’s one of the stars. I think it’s better if I don’t admit it out loud.
Jamie loving me would make my mother not loving me hurt so much less.
I don’t want to scare him away. I don’t want to risk losing him.
I don’t want to lose him.
And maybe I should be worried about how much that would destroy me, but right now all I want to do is kiss him.
When I find him inside, that’s exactly what I do.
• • •
I draw fire and water forgetting all the rules and morphing into something new.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Ifinish my painting. Hiroshi calls it “exquisite.” Jamie takes a photograph of it because he says he can’t stop looking at it.
I’m in such a good mood after dinner that when Mom calls I forget all about our conversation from last night.
By the sound of her voice, she’s forgotten it too.
She’s happy on the phone. It’s like she’s treating me the way she treats people who don’t really know her—like she’s a nice person.
I fall for it because my guard is down and because—let’s face it—I always fall for it. I tell her about the party—but not the kissing—and about finishing my painting and how great it turned out.
“It sounds like you’re having such a good time over there.” She pauses. I can practically hear the ticktock of her brain. “Has Elouise asked about our family at all?”
I make a face even though my mother can’t see it. “No. Why would she?”
She answers too quickly. “Oh, no reason. We used to be friends, that’s all. I thought she might be interested in our lives.”
“Well, she didn’t ask anything.” I want to talk about something else. I don’t like where this is going. “Did Shoji get his new belt yet?”
Mom’s silent.
“Umm, hello? Mom? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” I know I can’t see her, but I swear to God she’s grinding her teeth right now. I can feel it—she’s about to explode and I have no idea why.
I need to hang up. It’s the only way to avoid whatever is coming. “It’s getting pretty late actually. I’m going to go to bed.”
“What’s she been saying about me? I know she said something.” Her words are sharp and quick.
A heavy, disheartened sigh escapes from me. Of course the niceness wouldn’t last. “Nothing, Mom. Why do you always think people are talking about you?”
“Because people always talk about me. I have amazing intuition, and right now my ears are ringing.” She sounds so proud of her imaginary superpower.
“Well, she wasn’t.” I really, really want to get off the phone. I was in such a good mood before when—
“I don’t believe you. This is why I don’t trust you.” Her words rip through the phone like paper cranes attacking my face until I’m covered in stinging cuts.
“What do you mean you don’t trust me?” I say from a thousand miles away.
“You’re always trying to make people think bad of me.”
“Seriously, what are you talking about right now?”
“I don’t know; I just have a feeling.”
I wish I could crush the phone in my hand until it becomes dust. “A feeling based off what, Mom? You can’t just tell someone you don’t trust them and not give them a reason.”
“I don’t need a reason. I already told you, I have a feeling.”
WHAT I WANT TO SAY:
“YOU ARE A PSYCHOPATH.”
WHAT I ACTUALLY SAY:
“Well, you’re wrong. I don’t try to make anyone think bad of you. I don’t even talk about you.”
She scoffs into the phone. “You mean to tell me you don’t talk about me to Jamie?”
“I talk about me to Jamie, and maybe how I feel about the way you treat me, but not about you.”
“That is talking about me. I don’t want Jamie knowing my personal business.”
“It’s my personal business!”
“Family issues should stay private,” she snaps.
“They aren’t family issues! And sometimes I just need someone to talk to. It’s not like you ever listen to anything I say.”
“Oh, here we go again. You always act like you have all these emotional problems. It’s pathetic. Do you think it’s cool? Is that why you act this way?”
I’m crying again. God, I wish I could seal up my tear ducts just so I could stop letting my mother hear me crying.
At some point we both hang up the phone.
• • •
The next day she calls again. Jamie suggests I change my phone number.
Mom doesn’t apologize about yesterday, but she does ask a lot of questions about Jamie. In the middle of the conversation I leave his room because I’m embarrassed he’s going to find out what my mom is talking about.
“Do you think you’re in love?”
“Well. Yeah.” My heart reacts quicker than my brain—because if my brain were faster, I would know better than to tell Mom anything this personal. It’s like giving her the exact recipe to poison me in the most painful way possible.
“How do you know? I mean, what does being ‘in love’ even mean?”
“I can just tell, I guess. I’m happy around him. And I feel like myself. And I feel like I love him unconditionally, and he feels the same way back.” Yup. This is a terrible idea, Brain says. Retreat. Retreat.
“What is unconditional love?”
“Loving someone for no reason other than that you just love them, I guess. Like you’d love them even if they got gray hair and wrinkles or didn’t like the same movies as you or thought Star Wars was stupid.”
She’s quiet for a minute. “Yeah, I’m not sure I believe in that. I mean, I love you guys because you’re my kids, but unconditionally? No, I don’t know what that even means.”
Sometimes Mom can be insightful without even realizing it.
My mother is incapable of real love. It explains so much.
• • •
The next time Mom calls, she’s shouting into the phone and I can’t understand what she’s saying. It’s only after I tell her to calm down that I realize she’s crying hysterically.
I mouth to Jamie that she’s crying, and he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. I start to make a joke about changing my number, when Mom’s voice cuts so roughly into the phone that I feel like I’ve been stabbed with a rusty, jagged blade.
“Shoji is in the hospital. He tried to kill himself.”
• • •
I don’t draw. I spend all night trying to get ahold of Shoji, but nobody will let me talk to him.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Jamie brings pancakes to the guest room. It’s almost nine in the morning, but I’ve been up crying since five. Jamie knows this because he spent the whole night lying next to me, telling me everything was going to be okay.
I push myself up. I feel groggy. “Thanks.”
He puts the tray in my lap and sits next to me. “I can drive back with you, if you want.”
It takes a lot of effort to cut off a bite of pancake—there’s no strength left in my arm. “You don’t have to do that. I think I just need to be with my brother.”
I’m struggling to comprehend it. Shoji didn’t seem particularly happy, but none of us did. It never occurred to me that Shoji was dealing with everything wor
se than me—I was always the problem. I was always the one in trouble for stirring the pot of our screwed-up family.
Shoji was the quiet one. The one who seemed to be able to ignore everything the best.
I had no idea how much he was hurting.
I’m the worst sister in the world.
Mom insists she doesn’t know why he did it, even though Shoji begged the doctors and Dad not to let her see him.
In the afternoon, Mom calls to say she needs me to come home tomorrow. Even though I was already planning to go home, and even though I feel like this should be my choice and not hers, I’m too tired to fight with her.
She’s not crying anymore, but she’s somehow found more energy through the night. “Your dad is trying to tell me Shoji is going to live with him. Can you believe how ridiculous this is getting?”
I flinch at her choice of words. “I think everyone needs to do what’s best for Shoji right now.”
“The best thing for him is to be with his mother. Not around two newborns and a father he barely sees,” she says testily.
“Maybe he asked to stay with Dad.”
“Just because you hate me doesn’t mean everyone else does,” she snaps.
“I can’t do this today,” I growl into the phone. I’ve barely slept. My little brother is hurting. My dad is just trying to do what’s best. Why does my mom have to overcomplicate everything?
“I’m in pain too, you know,” she argues. “You don’t have kids. You don’t know how it feels to have one of your children hurt themselves. Nobody ever cares how I feel. This is hard on me, too.”
“I have to go. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” I hang up before she can infect my mind with anything else.
The air on the balcony is heavy, making it harder to breathe than usual.
Or maybe it’s just me. I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I want to get to Shoji, to ask him if he’s okay.
Oh my God, he’s not okay, is he? He tried to kill himself.
Elouise taps on the glass door. “Jamie and Brandon went to get the groceries. They didn’t want to interrupt your phone call.” She’s holding a wineglass in one hand and a book in the other. “Any news?”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I think he’s okay. He’s been asking to live with my dad, I think, so he’s well enough to talk to people.”
Frustration flickers in her eyes. “I’m sure your father will make sure he’s fine. Do you know when you’re going back?”
“Tomorrow.” I expect to see relief in her eyes, but I don’t. She looks a little sad.
“I can imagine this isn’t the way you wanted to say good-bye, but at least you’ll be back soon.” She takes a sip of her wine and sits down in one of the chairs.
Sickness fills my stomach. “I can’t leave Shoji all by himself.”
She blinks in surprise. “You’re not coming back?”
“I don’t know. How can I? He’s only staying with Dad because he hates Mom, but what happens when he realizes Dad abandoned us a long time ago too?” I don’t mean to say it, but the words are pouring out of me like they’re foaming right from the edge of my mouth. “Dad was never around. Not after his affair. Maybe if he was, Shoji could have had someone else to talk to. Maybe all of us wouldn’t have been left to deal with Mom on our own. He replaced us with a new family. How’s Shoji going to feel when he realizes he doesn’t belong there? He needs a real family. He needs a better sister.” I can’t stop crying. I feel like I’ve failed him.
Elouise looks like she’s being suffocated by something too heavy for her to push away. It draws me in—a secret that she wants ripped off for good.
“What is it?” I wipe my eyes with my sleeve.
“Your dad didn’t have the affair, honey. It was Brandon with—” She doesn’t want to say it. Not out loud, and not to me. But maybe the truth was too heavy for too long.
Everything goes still. The air presses down on me and I can’t move.
“It was Mom.” My voice is hollow. I’m hollow. Mom had the affair. With Jamie’s dad.
The wineglass trembles in Elouise’s grip. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m sorry. You were upset. I thought it would make you feel better about your dad, but . . .” She shakes her head and gulps down the rest of her wine.
Something inside me dies. I think it might have been the dream. “Did Jamie know?”
She doesn’t have to say a word—her eyes already give away the answer.
He knew. He knew the whole time.
• • •
I rip out every sketch I ever drew that reminds me of Jamie. Hiroshi thought they were honest, but they’re not. They can’t be. Because Jamie lied to me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Jamie reaches for me, but I push his hands away. If he touches me, if I feel his skin and remember how gentle and soft his lips are on mine, I’ll crash into his arms and never reemerge.
It takes everything inside me to be strong.
“I’m sorry, Kiko. I didn’t know how to tell you. I tried, but—”
“—but you didn’t.” The skin under my eyes boils with tears. “You knew my mom cheated. You knew she broke up my family, and you never told me.”
His hands extend toward me, but I step backward in to his desk.
“You don’t get it.” Tears burst from my eyes. “All this time, I thought it was my fault. I thought my parents split up because of”—I try to push Uncle Max from my memories—“because of me. I thought I was the reason they were fighting. Because of what I told my mom.”
Jamie’s hands are open. “I’m so sorry.” His face is lost in the blur.
“But now I know they split up because my mom cheated. And you knew, because your parents moved to get away from her and try to mend their family. Your family.” I’m choking on my tears. “I needed you, Jamie. You were my friend, and you were the person who knew the truth. You didn’t write back. You didn’t come to see me when you visited. And why? Because you didn’t want to tell me the truth?”
“I didn’t know what was happening with your uncle,” he says. Clear pools fill his eyes. “I didn’t know how much it was going to affect you.” He takes a breath. “God, Kiko, I was a kid! I’m not perfect.”
“You’re not a kid anymore.” I bite my lip to stop it from trembling. “You had weeks to tell me the truth.”
“You think it was easy for me not to? I desperately wanted to tell you. My family didn’t even want me to hang out with you anymore. That’s why I couldn’t write or visit you. They didn’t want to open up old wounds with my mom.” He looks away and blinks. “Your mom and my dad almost destroyed two families. Mine is still broken.”
“Your parents are still together. You had both of them, regardless of whether they hate each other. And you don’t have a brother who tried to commit suicide because his split-personality, narcissistic, psychopathic mom pushed him toward it.”
Jamie steps closer to me, his face falling back into kindness. “That’s good, Kiko. Say what you want to say. Say everything. I’ll listen to it, and I won’t fight with you. Because I love you, and because I know this is what you need. So tell me you’re angry. Tell me how terrible I’ve been. Tell me I made the wrong choice. And then, Kiko, forgive me. Because I’m sorry. I’m sorry, and I love you.”
He kisses me even though I try to raise my hand to stop him. And then I don’t stop him. His lips mold against mine like they’re perfectly shaped for each other. He tastes like mint and smells like himself. I want him to hold me forever. I want him to make everything better.
And then I realize this is all wrong.
Because the truth is, I’m not really mad at Jamie. I mean, I’m mad that he lied, but I’m not really mad at him.
I’m mad because I need him. I need him to be perfect and strong and to protect me from everything in the world that’s terrifying. I need him to hold my hand as I walk through life because it’s so much easier than doing it alone.
And needing him
is a mistake.
I don’t want to need anyone. I want to stand on my own two feet. I want control of my own life and my own emotions. I don’t want to be a branch in someone else’s life anymore—I want to be the tree on my own.
I want all the strength to come from me. I don’t want to depend on anyone for anything ever again.
I pull my face away from Jamie and it literally hurts so much I have to grip the desk to keep from falling over.
I can’t hide from the truth anymore. I let Jamie become my crutch. I let him fill all the voids in my life—family, friendship, love—and it hurts so much to know what I need to do now.
Panic is in his eyes. He senses what I’m going to say next.
Because even when we’re hurt, we still know each other. We know each other without words.
I say them anyway. “I’ve spent years trying to forgive myself for ruining my family. I blamed myself for everything—my uncle, my parents, my mom not loving me, and now I even blame myself for Shoji. I don’t want to be angry with you, Jamie, but I don’t want to be angry at myself anymore either. I need to get rid of the guilt. I need to figure out how to forgive myself. I need to apologize to my brother.”
“What are you saying?”
We’re both so hollow and cold. What happened to us? How did a single hour change us so much?
WHAT I WANT TO SAY:
“I love you, Jamie, but I don’t want to love you this way. I’m broken in too many places and I can’t let you be the one to put me back together. If I’m going to survive in this world, I need to learn how to take care of myself first. I need to heal, so that my heart can be whole again. I need time. A lot of time.”
WHAT I ACTUALLY SAY:
“I need to go home.”
• • •
I draw a girl on a plane, leaving her heart on the runway.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Idrive straight to the hospital because I’m not ready to see Mom yet. Not until I talk to Shoji.
The doctors are keeping him under observation, but Dad says he’s going to be released soon. He says he already has a lawyer trying to work out the next step in getting custody of Shoji.
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