by Gaby Triana
Brother and sister…astral cords bonding us together…
“I know you’ve been at the computer lab,” she says slowly.
I shrug defensively. “So? Anyone can use the lab.”
“Yes, but I know what you’ve been looking into.”
I never erased the links to the adoption sites. I never thought that anyone using the computer after me would care. “You’ve been spying on me, Marraine?”
Her shoulders slump. She looks defeated. “Your mother asked me to. The babies take up a lot of time, but she still wants to look after you.”
“That doesn’t give anyone the right to spy on me.”
“Cherie, if you’re curious about your past, ask your parents, love.”
“But they don’t know anything. Either way, I’d need to do a professional investigation.”
“Yes, but at least they can help you make sure you’re not getting taken advantage of. And you’re going to need money to do what you’re looking into. Chloé, use them to your advantage—they’re your parents. But if they don’t know that your interest is this strong, how can they help you?”
I don’t know whether to be mad or grateful that I have someone to talk to about this. I love the relationship I have with my parents and don’t want to change that in any way, and I thought involving them would complicate matters. And I hate complicating matters! I sigh and rest my head on Marraine’s shoulder. My eyes start leaking.
“Believe me, I know nothing is easy right now. But even Mr. Rooney will pass you if he sees you working your hardest from now until the end of the year. I’m not supposed to tell you that, but I’ve known the man for a few years, and I can tell you he’s done it many times before.”
“I am trying, Marraine. I came here for help from someone else because Gordon’s not tutoring me anymore. Coming here wasn’t easy for me.”
“Well, there you go, then. A little focus goes a long way.” She smiles and uses her thumbs to wipe my eyes. “You are a piece of work, Chloé Rodriguez. Now get studying.”
I sink into a seat with no desire to start studying, though I know I have to.
She slings her purse back on her shoulder. “Chloé, your mom and dad are stronger than you give them credit for. They’ll understand what’s on your mind. You have a dedicated family, more dedicated than some ‘real’ families, as you say.”
I press back the tears. “I know,” I whisper.
“And if you need me, I’m here too. You never have to face anything alone.” I’m not sure why, but those words send me over the edge, and it takes me five whole minutes to get my eyes dry and my face in the shape it was in before she came to see me.
In the morning, guess who’s waiting for me as I pull into a regular car spot with my big gray elephant? I step out and squint at her in the sun.
“So here’s the deal…” Sabine pulls on the straps of her backpack as I turn off the truck and lock up. “Two days a week. Your house after school. We won’t talk about Gordon. Okay?”
“Totally.”
“I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.”
“You asked me for help, and I gave you a super-hard time. Whatever is going on between you and Gordon is none of my business. I just need to realize that.”
“Believe me, not much is going on.” I smile.
“But I still don’t want to know.” She smirks back, and I don’t know if it’s because we’re not in the dull light of the auditorium or what, but she looks different out here in the sunlight. She’s so going to look pretty when she finally gets those braces off.
For the next three weeks, Sabine comes over on Tuesdays and Thursdays and doesn’t charge my mother anything. She really is, quite possibly, the sweetest person on the face of the planet. I don’t understand how Gordon could ever have dumped her. He’s an idiot.
The rest of the days, I study all by my determined self—at the dock, at home, even in Rooney’s classroom after school to demonstrate my dedicated effort. I study anywhere but the auditorium, locale of the great fateful Chloé-Gordon hookup. I pass every quiz Rooney pops with at least a 70 percent. I talk to no one but Sabine and my family. Rock, I just leave alone to figure things out. And Gordon, I just smile at him in the halls as a silent reminder that I still love him.
Do I miss them? Yes. But Gordon was able to put me aside for his reasons, right? So I can do the same. Even though I’m still counting on that post-school discussion about getting back together this summer. As for Rock, he’s been in and out of school this whole time anyway, which means he’s probably messing around with someone new, and I don’t care who. So much for changing lifestyles for me. So much for us being friends. He’s going to have to find himself a guy friend who doesn’t mind listening to how he gives himself over and over to girls who don’t love him. Until that ends, I can’t be a part of it anymore.
At the Murphys’ dock, the crickets and frogs perform their nightly symphony. The air is dead, not a breeze to speak about. My shirt clings to my sweaty skin, damp as though it never fully dried after washing. I remember how wet my clothes were that beautiful afternoon Gordon and I were last here together. That day was so perfect. And who had to go and ruin it? Someone whose name rhymes with crock.
I look through my adoption investigation printouts. There’s one investigator in South Miami, not too far from where I live. It’s a woman, and her history reads that she’s an adopted child herself. She goes into details about the discovery of her own birth mother and how she finally met her after forty years, but also explained how every case is different and some don’t turn out so well. I know this. I’m prepared for this. I still want to go through with it.
I shine my flashlight onto the new sign posted on the property announcing demolition for Monday, June 5—one week from now. It’s funny how I feel I can handle meeting my birth mom, yet I don’t think I can let go of the dock. So many memories were created here. Most recently, those with Gordon—swimming during spring break, talking at night about space quantum theories, ancient Earth, our world’s oldest civilizations…
Does Gordon even know what it’s like to be put on-hold like this? Has anyone, in his entire privileged life, ever told him to wait, to stand by while they decide how they feel about him? Has he ever been the victim of anyone’s doubt? Probably not. So I have to forgive him for doing this to me. Because he just doesn’t understand. If he knew how it felt, he wouldn’t do it.
I turn the flashlight off and wait for my eyes to adjust again.
Betelgeuse seems brighter tonight. So do Arcturus, Regulus, and even Spica. I want to give the stars the dedication they’ve given me. I want to watch them forever, maybe even reach them one day. If I’m going to spend so much time staring at the skies, I may as well make a career out of it. But I’m pretty sure you need passing grades for that, so I have to keep working as hard as I have. Maybe I can get a job at Miami’s planetarium this summer. It’ll help pay for the investigation, and hopefully, even a new telescope. Not a cheapie one, but one of those apochromatic babies with the five-inch apertures.
My phone rings the new tune I’ve added. Sabine. “Hello?”
“Hi, Chloé.”
“Hey! I just finished the work you gave me.”
“That’s awesome. Go, you.” She laughs a little.
“Yeah, I think I’m ready for the final. I couldn’t have done it without you, so thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She hesitates. “Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“I know we agreed not to talk about Gordon, but considering what you’re going through and the fact that I went through the same shit because of him, you should know something.”
“What is it?” I ask, amused on the one hand at hearing the word shit come from the mouth of Sabine Jimenez, but dreading, on the other hand, that she has news about Gordon.
I can hear her hesitation over the line. I don’t know who will ta
ke whatever she has to say harder—me or her. “I think he’s moving.”
I hear her. I do. But it makes no sense. There’s no way Gordon could have told everybody about this surprise announcement before telling me, his girlfriend, who loves him, who adores him.
I blink. “Moving to another place in Miami, or…”
“No, to Boston,” she says.
I do my best to keep my voice calm and my thoughts rational. I bite my lip hard before asking, “He told you this?”
“My friend who’s in calculus with him heard him telling Philip.”
“Philip?” Of all people. I can hear the blood rushing inside my head, like a broken levee against my eardrums.
“Chloé, if we weren’t friends, I wouldn’t have told you anything. In fact, I probably would’ve enjoyed this. But we are friends. At least I think so.”
“We are,” I say, and I do get the sense she’s telling me this because she doesn’t want to see me clueless anymore, not because she’s enjoying breaking the news to me. “Thanks. I’ll call you back.”
“Chloé?” her voice pleads.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t be mad at me.”
“Of course not.”
“It was only fair you should know.”
Yup. Got that right. “I know. Thanks, Sabine.” I hang up, and for a moment, I just sit there. I imagine Gordon’s car pulling up to the dock. He’s come over to apologize, to tell me how much he loves me. To say that the time we spent was not wasted. That he’s thought things through and wants us to move forward with our relationship. That the news about him leaving isn’t true.
But then I’m back in the present, and I know in my heart of hearts that there are truths and there are lies. And I’d have to be stupid, blind, or both…not to see which one is which.
Twenty-six
My chest pounds at the sight of his house, the place of our middle-of-school-day trysts. His room light glows in the darkness. My heart is beating between my ears.
Closing the truck door softly behind me, I head up the brick-paved path to Gordon’s house. This is the first time I’ve actually ever rung the doorbell. He’s going to be miffed when he sees me. It takes a minute, but the front door finally clicks and opens. A small woman with brown hair pops through. Gordon’s mom. “Yes?”
“Hi.” I smile like the innocent, smart girl I am. “Is Gordon here?”
“He is,” she says, a tinge of Russian z in her s. “But it’s eleven o’clock. Can I help you?”
The absurdity of what I’m doing hits me hard. “Oh. I didn’t realize the time. I’ll call him tomorrow. I’m sorry to bother you.” I start heading for the truck.
“Are you Chloé?”
My heart sinks when I turn and see her narrowed eyes. “Yes.”
She leans on the door frame. “Do you realize that my husband and I know you’ve been spending time here while we’re not home?”
My body freezes, my eyes glance at the perfectly laid brick pattern of the walkway.
“I wonder if your mother knows about it. Or should I ask her myself?” she asks accusingly.
My eyes glue themselves to hers. Not a moment of regret creeps in to humble me. Her son is just as responsible for our behavior as I am. I have not done anything to corrupt him, if that’s what she’s suggesting. I accept that I will always seem like a bad influence to some people.
“You have nothing to say?” she asks.
“I wanted to meet you properly,” I say slowly. “I’ve wanted to for a long time now. But Gordon insisted on doing it this way.”
“I’m sure my son had his reasons.” She looks me up and down like there’s something wrong with what I’m wearing.
“Sorry to bother you.” I turn around to leave before I blow up on her.
“Mom.” Gordon appears at the door in pajama pants and a T-shirt. “I’ll handle it.”
The usual mixed feelings of anger and elation at seeing him well up inside my throat.
“Be quick. It’s late,” she says coldly, finally breaking her hard stare at me. Gordon nods and closes the door behind him.
“Great, now I’ve gone from being a secret to being a problem to be dealt with.” I lean against a column, kicking it with my heel.
“Why are you here?” he asks. Not in a rude way. Just seems curious.
“Why am I here,” I repeat. “Well, let’s see…about a month ago, you told me to give you some space because you needed to work things out. But you haven’t called, haven’t given me any updates…nothing. Yet your words gave me all this hope that maybe we’d get back together once school was over. So I’m here because school is almost over, and I think we need to talk about it now.”
“But Chloé, this is bad timing. I have finals in a few days.”
“We, Gordon. We have finals in a few days. You’re not the only one with important things to do.”
He runs his hands through his hair nervously. “I just…I still don’t know.” He shakes his head.
“Don’t know what? You keep saying that, Gordon. But I need a better answer.”
“You deserve a better answer. I’m just not able to give it to you. I’m sorry, but I’m just not.”
I chew on my top lip. “If you don’t want to be with me anymore, then just say it so I can move on.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says, looking at me in the most genuine way possible. “You’re incredible, Chloé. You’re funny, smart, beautiful…I really do love you.”
His words slice right through me. I feel my nose flaring from how hard I’m trying not to lose it.
“I always have a great time when I’m with you,” he goes on, his face wracked with conflict. “You probably think that’s bullshit based on the way I’m acting, but it’s not. It’s the truth.”
“But…” I prompt, waiting for the stellacular reason why he’d be willing to give up all these great things if they’re so true.
He lifts his hand and resigns, letting it fall hard against his side. “But we can’t be together.”
We can’t be together. The words hurt me, yet at the same time, give me insurmountable strength. Truth. Reassuring, painful truth. We can’t be together. That’s my answer. But I knew this right from the very beginning, didn’t I? I just didn’t listen to the warnings. I knew that Gordon already had a master plan in place and that I was never a part of that plan. More like an interruption.
“Right.” My brain tries processing a world of other truths, like that I’ll never again feel his kiss on my lips, never again lie in those arms, the ones he’s now folding in front of him. Never again will we talk about the things that make me feel important and smart.
“It’s not what you think.” He blinks softly.
“You don’t know what I think,” I say softly, shaking my head. Let’s see how long it takes him to come clean. I know Sabine’s not lying about his moving. I’ve seen her for who she is now, and I can say that with 100 percent certainty.
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“So what is it, Gordon? I want to hear the big reason why we can’t be together if you still love me.”
He takes a deep breath then lets it out real slow. “I’m leaving, Chloé. I’m going back to Boston. As soon as school finishes.”
He waits for my reaction, but I don’t give him much of one. If he really loved me with all his heart, he would try to find a way to stay and be near me. I know that’s a very “linear” way to think, but I can’t think rationally right now.
“You don’t look too surprised,” he says.
“I would be, if I hadn’t already heard this from someone else.” I enjoy the awesome look of shock on his face before continuing.
He covers his mouth, blowing air out against his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“You bet your ass you’re sorry,” I say, feeling the irreversible Chloé come creeping in. “Why are you leaving?”
“Because MIT has a better engineering summer intensive? Because my brother’s t
here, because my dad’s original job is there…I could give you a million reasons. My dad was managing the regional offices here, but he can just as easily—”
I don’t care about his dad, brother, goat, or chickens. “So this is more their decision. You didn’t really have a choice in the m—”
“No, it’s what I want,” he interrupts.
Not, “I have no control over the situation,” but “It’s what I want.” I try not to let my jaw hang open. “Did you know all this when we were together? When we almost did it at the dock? Or any of the days you snuck me up there?” I point to his room. “In the three months we were together, you couldn’t have told me? In the past month I’ve been waiting for you, you couldn’t have said something?”
“I didn’t want to complicate things while we considered the pros and cons. We just decided for sure.”
“Well, hooray for you,” I say, because I’m lacking any other brilliant comebacks.
“Chloé,” he says slowly. “Remember I asked you not to get your hopes up with me? Remember I tried to warn you?”
“Well, I thought it was a general sort of warning, as in ‘We’re not good for each other,’ which I already knew was bull, because we are good for each other. Had you actually said, ‘Because I’ll be moving this summer,’ I might not have let myself get so attached to you. I might not have let myself fall in love with you, but I did, and you didn’t do anything to stop it either.”
Why does my chest feel like it’s splitting open?
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have strung you along. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this sooner. But as much as I love you, care about you, I’m not sure we were really in love, Chloé. Maybe we were in love with the idea of being in love. That happens to people all the time.”
You know, I should have seen this. There he is, the same Gordon of “to adore means to worship” fame, and he doesn’t worship anybody. He made that very clear. That was the real warning right there. The only thing I can manage to say is, “You’re right, this love thing was all a part of my evil plan to throw you off course.”
