Letting Go

by Katie George

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Joel

  SLEEP WAS A miraculous thing. It had the power to cure any danger, at least for a few hours. Sleep took away physical and emotional pain, at least from Joel’s perspective. As he started to awake from slumber, his hazy vision cleared and he remembered he was in a timeshare in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, in the midst of a week of nothing but beach. Then, like something out of a movie, he was jumping out of bed and rushing to the bathroom, where Manny’s brother Alfonso was brushing his teeth. Joel clutched his stomach as it emptied into the toilet, all the remains of food from the previous night.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Alfonso screamed, rushing away. He started gagging.

  Manny appeared, his eyes wide as he watched his friend’s retching. “Joel, what…”

  “I’m okay,” Joel gurgled between heaves. “Must be a stomach bug.”

  “Come on, man! Today was when I was going to set you up with that girl.”

  Joel wiped his mouth with a piece of toilet paper. “That’s the furthest thing from my mind, Manny. Can you bring me a water bottle?”

  “Sure, sure.”

  Joel tried to think what had caused his sickness. They’d arrived in Myrtle Beach on Tuesday afternoon, three days after the disastrous prom and the day he’d met his little sister. He skipped out on church that Sunday, packed Monday, and left Tuesday morning in a cramped little junkmobile bound for the beach with Manny’s family members. He’d gleaned a few dirty Spanish phrases, but Manny’s stickler of a brother halted all inappropriate language as he was in a Southern Baptist seminary school.

  Tuesday night, Manny, Joel, and Alfonso had skipped out on the others and headed to the beach, where Manny had romanced a high school girl. Joel, displeased, called Sarah, only to receive her voicemail yet again. He tried to quench his thoughts of her, because he wanted to apologize for his indecency at the dance, while also wanting to see what was happening on the family front. Instead, he received silence.

  Wednesday, the entire group went to the beach. Manny’s high school girlfriend left town, and he went after a twentysomething college girl who’d invited them to a handful of parties at little sports bars nearby. Joel had gone with Manny, though abstaining from all the festivities, just to have a clear head in case Misty Temprend finally called him. Or Sarah.

  By Thursday, with no hope of communicating with either of them, Joel finally broke and partied all night long. He had a wicked hangover the following morning, and even rolling around in the wide, raging Atlantic for the afternoon hadn’t killed the pain in his head. Friday night had been more of the same, but reserved, Joel refrained from drinking and found himself bored. He’d been approached by a few girls, but every time they spoke to him, something in him resonated, asking him to wait. It was hard, but he went with the voice inside.

  Now, though, he wondered what he’d eaten to kill his stomach. He stood, queasy, and headed back for the bed which he shared with Manny. All of Manny’s stuff was packed up and away. A bottle of water rested on the bedspread. Joel took a swig and went out onto the porch overlooking the sea. Girls in bikinis walked below him. The timeshare they’d taken was in a poorer section of town, where all the youth hung out like a bunch of heathens. Did Sarah pounce around like that when she was at the beach? Somehow, Joel doubted it.

  The briny breeze sluiced through his hair. He checked his phone, ignoring the boring texts from some of his pals back home. He clicked on Sarah’s number again, his heart beating fast as her voicemail rang out again, the lilt of her voice feminine and only something she would do: “Hi, this is Sarah, and please, if it’s important, keep calling me. Eventually, I’ll answer. If not, eventually, I’ll still answer.”

  Was he important to her? Was he not important to her?

  Joel watched the surf. He saw a few dots of tan men running through the waves, knowing it was probably Manny and the crew. They’d included him as their tall, white gringo, but still Joel had alienated himself, just because he’d come into the trip with a heavy heart.

  He rushed back to the toilet, praying he wouldn’t puke all over his achy chest.

  MANNY RETURNED TWO hours later with a weird bowl of soup and a spoon. He placed it before his friend and made the sign of the cross. “Aleja made sure I would pray over you.”

  “The sign of the cross isn’t the same thing as praying,” Joel said, winking.

  “Close enough. This is from the tortilla shop next door. It was the cheapest thing on the menu. If you eat this all without exploding, I will buy you the most expensive thing on the menu. Deal?”

  “Go have some fun, Man. You’re the man.”

  “Nice. I see your double entendre. Joel, we drive home tomorrow. We really need you to feel better before the drive home, because I do not want to sit next to a pukey Joel Sealet. Not when you’re taller than Alfonso and me together, which equals a lot more puke.”

  “I’ll work on it.”

  “Good. I’m going down to see Priscilla. Feel better, my friend.”

  Joel was left alone again, and he tried some of the terrible soup, only to find it comforted the back of his throat. He didn’t vomit as he ate it, even though it smelled like an ancient Roman sandal. After he finished the grizzly meal, he drifted away again, and as a good dream was about to commence, the buzz from his phone startled him.

  He almost fell from the bed, and in the process, he stubbed his fingernail, ripping it just a little. Joel cursed and grabbed the device, the pain subsiding at his recognition of Sarah’s contacting him. His stomach gurgled as he answered, though the pain from his bleeding finger was a little distracting.

  “Sarah!”

  “Joel?”

  “Sarah!”

  “Hey,” Sarah said quietly. “I’m so sorry I haven’t responded. I’ve wanted to—trust me.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Very much so. I got my phone taken away for a few days, and a stern talking-to, and supposedly they’re going to monitor who I text and stuff. But I just don’t care anymore. I’m not keeping this a secret. You’re my friend, and I’m not going to hide you like you’re a skeleton.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I think they’re over it. I think they’re accepting that I’m not going to follow their rules, and I am going to continue to meet you. Mom was furious the first day, but she’s okay now, especially since they invited Tom Boomington over for dinner tomorrow night.”

  Joel ignored a little pebble of jealousy in his gut. He wanted to vomit, but he forced himself to sit up and listen. “I come back tomorrow. I could drive by and rescue you.”

  “As much as I appreciate the offer, I can’t. I’ve got to respect them. At least a little.” He could see her smile, how she had flecks of brown in the blue of her eyes. He’d noticed that as they danced together in church. He’d realized that through her self-righteous persona, and her shyness, and whatever placed a barrier between them, he didn’t want to say good-bye to her at the end of the summer. But they would have to, and this made him vomit across the floor.

  “Joel!” Sarah screamed.

  Joel felt lightheaded. He grabbed the water bottle and gulped as much as he could, hoping to dull some of the pain roaring in his brain. The room smelled rotten now, and he stood up and headed into the bathroom. “I’m a little sick.”

  “Did you just puke?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Joel!”

  “I’m going to be fine. I’m not dying, I can promise you that. I’m going to come back, and I’m going to rescue you from Tom Boomington, as nice of a guy as he is. You know, Sarah, sickness helps define feelings. I miss you a lot.”

  “Joel, should I be worried? You’re slurring your words. Joel, please talk to me. Don’t pass out. Where are your friends?”

  “They left me up here. I’m okay, Sarah, I swear. It’s just the stomach bug.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  “And Joel…”
>
  “What?” he asked. He looked in the mirror, almost puking at the green tinge to his skin. A hint of stubble dotted his cheeks, and he thought he was awful in appearance. He usually thought nice of himself, but not today. He grabbed his stomach.

  “I miss you, too.”

  “As much as I’d love to talk to you every moment for the next few hours…” He started puking into the toilet.

  “Okay,” Sarah croaked from the other line. “I understand. You’ve got some things to work out.”

  “Bye, Sarah…”

  MANNY AND THE guys arrived back at the apartment a few hours later to the smell of bleach and a long body on the cool floor. For a moment, Manny thought his best friend was dead, and the hint of angered shock tickled his spine. However, Manny’s pastor cousin Aleja rushed over and slapped the guy across the face, and Joel darted up like he’d been slapped—because he had been.

  Joel gritted his teeth and screamed, “I was in the middle of a great dream!”

  “Apologize, Aleja. You are so dramatic at times,” Alfonso protested, throwing a cigarette away from his mouth.

  “How do you feel, Joely?” Manny asked, sitting beside his friend. He reached over and placed his hand on Joel’s damp forehead. “You’re clammy.”

  “I wish I were a clam,” Joel protested through a rugged whisper.

  “I brought you the most expensive thing on the menu, but obviously your body can’t handle it. So, let’s follow another option. Let’s get you to sleep. I’ll put on a good movie for you to watch. I can stay with you…”

  “No. Find your girl.”

  “You speak like a man who has found his woman,” Manny said, the joking timbre to his voice infectious. Manny elbowed his friend, and Joel tried to laugh, though it sounded strained and painful.

  “No. But I am a kid who has found there are sometimes times when one needs a mother.”

  “Amen,” Alfonso seconded.

  Joel fell asleep again, and Manny shook his goatee. “Okay, you guys go ahead. I will wait with him.”

  Aleja and Alfonso respected his wishes and rushed away.

  Manny stood up and began to organize his shared room with Joel, who was the antithesis of OCD. Manny packed his things and sanitized as he went, bleach wipes coating every tile of every fixture. He accidentally stepped on a piece of metal, and in a moment of curiosity, he picked Joel’s phone up.

  A person named Sarah had texted him, inquiring about his health. She was repeatedly texting him, and Manny, in a moment of pure friendship, took the phone and hid himself in a dark closet in case Joel woke to find him. Manny scrolled up on their messages, his eyes widening at the frequency and intensity, but also the lack of anything remotely romantic or sexual. It was like this Sarah person and Joel were the best of friends.

  Had someone replaced him? Who was Sarah? Did he have competition in the friend department?

  Manny, a nosy individual by principle, clicked on a photograph in their messages and zoomed in. Sarah. When he recognized her, Manny fell against the back of the closet and stubbed his toe. He cursed as it bled, and he shook his head repeatedly.

  “What the heck is happening?” Manny screamed, before remembering Joel’s health. He emerged from the closet, pleased to find Joel still asleep on the floor, his mouth slightly open.

  He darted across the room and threw the phone where he’d found it. When Joel woke up, it wasn’t like he would remember the locale of his phone in the midst of his illness. Manny thought for a few moments, trying to suppress his surprise. Sarah Towson…

  He remembered Sarah. She had been uppity, quiet, and remarkably smart. Manny had never found any physical attraction to her in those days, just because he was as open as a free bird, and she was in a cage of self-internment. Her closest friends, Karli Kirkpatrick and Destiny Tridell, had been like her, except now, Karli was the babymomma of a drug dealer. Manny knew nothing about Destiny’s fate.

  Manny fell into a chair on the porch. The salty spray of the ocean lifted his spirits somewhat and dulled the shock. He hated heights, but even now, on the sixteenth floor of the building, he didn’t mind. The steady thrum of the ocean waves pounded against his brain. Joel had been keeping secrets. It made sense now why Joel had been so adamant about dumping Brie: He’d fallen for something exotic. Not many people could say they’d been in a relationship with a Towson, for that family name should be a synonym for reserved, but also, it would be a confidence booster in the fact that Joel, from humble beginnings, would be paired with a girl living in California for college. A girl who probably drove a different sports every day of the week.

  Manny sighed. In the few times he’d actually talked to her, he’d seen a sweetness beneath the surface, but he knew it would take a lot of digging to emerge. Obviously, she’d changed since he’d seen her last—up on stage giving the valedictory speech. She was more beautiful, if that was possible, at least from the photo he’d seen on Joel’s phone. In their text messages, she appeared cordial and friendly. She always asked after Joel before anything else.

  A seagull snorted above him. He had to watch his friend. Joel was prone to falling for girls for a short period of time before lapsing into feelings of distrust, which then turned him into a beleaguerer. He carried a sword to girls’ hearts.

  Manny stood up and stared over the railing, looking below him. A tingle of fear blossomed in his heart, but he continued to stare, and he continued to develop his plan. This would benefit Sarah as much as it benefited Joel.

  He hurried back inside.