by Sunniva Dee
Chapter 12 — Aftermath
Gaia
After our goodbye, I didn’t leave bed for eight days. My body was drained of energy. I snuggled under the sheets and shut my eyes in continuous pursuit of slumber. Even though I slept most of the time, rest escaped me.
Every morning Mom woke me up, and every morning I told her I didn’t feel good. I wasn’t responsive enough to notice her concern. Since her iron will couldn’t fix this, she tried smaller steps, like coaxing me into taking a shower. When I acquiesced, she’d leave the room and I’d drift off again.
My sister got through to me in the beginning. She stretched out on the bed and hugged me through the comforter.
“This is about what happened the other night, isn’t it?” she asked.
Nodding took all I had. “But it’s more.”
“Why? What happened? Tell me.”
“Nothing. I don’t care about Marina’s uncle,” I mumbled.
“Her uncle?” Luna’s voice hitched, and I’d said too much.
“Never mind.”
“Did he touch you or something?”
“Don’t you dare say anything to Mom and Dad.” I burrowed under the blankets. The darkness was my friend.
Luna’s fingers dug my face out of the covers. “You know I’d never rat you out. I’m so sorry, Gaia.”
I squinted at her from under puffed eyelids, but shut them when I saw her tears. “Luna, it’s not because of him, okay?” Please, don’t make me think. “Nothing really happened. Go away—I’m tired.”
Soon, my parents noticed that I wasn’t eating. Mom stopped making healthy meals and began to bring In-N-Out burgers for dinner. For breakfast she’d make my favorites—blueberry pancakes and eggs scrambled with heavy cream, but the smell of food didn’t entice me.
Since I loved bacon, Mom fried some every day. My stomach turned when the stench of smoked grease curled into my hair and the fabrics around me.
Winter break began. By the seventh day of my meltdown, my skin had lost its color and hugged my ribs. My hipbones jutted out. I slept through Luna’s soft sniffling when she came by, because my own pain was all I could take.
That night, my parents’ murmurs cut through from their bedroom. Dad’s deep bass had always been easier to decode than Mom’s high-pitched fairy voice. “Honestly, I don’t care at this point.”
“But it’s only been seven months since the accident. This is how grief works—there are ups and downs, Edwin. We have to accept that she needs to go through the cycles.”
“No, this can’t be normal.”
“Please, they told us, remember?”
“Oh really? What did they tell us, Selene? That our daughter would lay herself down to die?”
“Honey, she’ll get better—just let her grieve.”
“Selene, look at her! She doesn’t talk or eat—she’s getting weaker by the hour…”
If only Chris were here. I dozed off and woke again when my father slammed a door. “That’s a no! I’ve had it with your ‘natural’ way.”
The next morning, Dad brought an older, silver-haired doctor with wise eyes into my room. I wasn’t fully awake when he checked my vitals. Despite my nodding off, he seemed to stay and stay.
“I’d like to speak with the young lady alone for a minute if you don’t mind,” I heard before I napped again.
“Gaia, is it?”
“Hmm.” Deeply rooted, the instinct to be polite made me struggle to open my eyes.
“What has happened in your life, Gaia, that has made you this sad?”
His unexpected intuition caused tears to trickle down my temples. The doctor gave me space until a reply croaked out. “I can’t tell you.”
“Is it about a boy?”
A boy. A man. An angel. It’s complicated.
“Yes.”
“Anything else? Has anybody been mean to you?”
“Yes.”
“Can you handle it, or will you need help getting back on your feet?”
“I can handle it.”
The old man held my hand between his dry ones. He sat there for a while, comforting me without words while tears leaked out.
“It’s time to start eating,” he said simply.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, I nodded and watched him plod to the door.
From the outside, I heard the doctor’s murmured words. “Mr. and Mrs. Samuelle, your daughter is depressed, and my prescription is lots of love. Encourage her to spend time with friends. Make her eat well. She seems to have the willpower, and I believe she’s past the worst.”
In the doorway, Mom squeezed Dad. He stroked her back and smiled at the physician. “Sir, we appreciate you coming out on Christmas Eve like this. Thank you so, so much.”
Exhaustion rolled over me. I wanted them all to leave. With my back to the door, I curled up against the wall.
I drifted in the twilight between wake and sleep when fingers, steady and cool as crystal, spread over my heart. They remained there, comforting me. When their weight finally dissipated, the blackness of grief went with them, leaving a tolerable shade of gray to saturate the hole in my chest.
****
That Christmas, my parents splurged on good restaurants and decadent homemade meals. We spent the holidays as a family at the ice rink, on wintery beaches, and at the movies. Mom encouraged me to give Marina a call, but I couldn’t because too much had happened. I didn’t know how to handle the whirl of emotions inside.
The biggest surprise came when my dad, who’d always been uptight about boys, suggested I call “the kid with the rented minivan.” I wished hanging out with Lucio could subdue the ache of Gabriel’s absence.
Gabriel. I tried not to think of him. The excruciating heartache burned off on the eighth day, but I wasn’t happy. Instead I endured his absence.
My heart was made of cement. Now, I owned a glorified muscle that hammered blood through my veins. In the end, I followed Dad’s suggestion. I did call Marina’s cousin.
“Hi, Lucio. What’s up?”
“Hey…Nothing much. You?” He sounded cautiously happy to hear from me.
“Been sick, but I’m fine now.”
“Yeah, Marina called your house.”
“Oh, she did? My parents forgot to tell me, I guess.”
“Uh-huh.” The contrast between Lucio and his chatterbox cousin really stood out on the phone.
“So…you want to go do something?” I asked.
An uneasy silence followed before he replied. “Yeah, I’m game.”
The bowling alley two blocks from our house was an easy pick—the perfect place to kill time without being misleading. Once there, I enjoyed Lucio’s company more than I’d imagined. He even managed to launch me into giggles once. That ability seemed to run in their family.
With his dry, self-deprecating sense of humor, Lucio slammed his own mediocre bowling skills and let me off the hook even though I was the lousiest bowler on the planet.
Things were more awkward at school in the beginning. For seven days, Marina ignored me. She and Cody, who’d gone Facebook-official over the holidays, moved to the end of our lunch table where they spent their time whispering to each other.
Entertainment-wise, our end of the table made up for Marina’s silence by being rowdier than usual. Unfortunately, most activity centered around food pranks.
“Guys—this is freaking third grade all over again,” I said, confiscating the last packets of ketchup.
“Hey, he was ogling my pie.”
“Well, he can’t do that anymore now, can he, Lucio?” I sent Kyle another glance. He was laughing and groaning in pain. “Hurts!”
“Here, try to scrape the ketchup off your eyeball with this.” I passed him a wadded-up napkin soaked in water. “Do you realize I spend my lunches smoothing out your shenanigans?”
“Not true!” Kyle’s suddenly one-eyed stare was too innocent.
“No? Any major events from yesterday’s lunch you’d care to relive with me
, Kyle?”
He looked confused. “The fish sticks episode?”
“No, that was two days ago. Yesterday somebody whipped out their breakfast yogurt.”
“Ah, yes!” Lucio and Kyle grinned and high fived. “Good times.”
“Really, Lucio? You had fun wearing one shoe for the rest of the day? Was the other one even salvageable?”
He frowned. “Hmm, I think it’s in the car.”
I rolled my eyes. “You guys are ridiculous.”
****
A couple of times a week, Lucio and I would hang out after school for what Mom called “extracurricular activities.” Lucio’s friendship—and his patience—was what I needed. In his quiet way, he taught me the basics of Skyrim and seemed to find my beginner’s woes entertaining. He didn’t move in too close for comfort.
Sometime during the second week of spring, Marina’s resentment ebbed and she started interjecting into our lunch conversation. “Kyle, you need two pickles for that. I’m sure Gaia would lend you hers.”
“Nope, I’m eating my food,” I said.
“Aw, I’ll give it back after, Gaia. What do you say?”
“Yeah, Gaia. After,” Marina repeated.
“Come on. It’ll look good on Lucio. One in each ear! Plus, they’re the deadest pickles I’ve ever seen. You don’t want to eat them.” Cody waggled his brows.
“Hey, I’m done with this shit—way too squishy in the ear canal,” Lucio shot in. “And you can’t double-attack and think you can nail it, dude. It was pure luck the first time—I wasn’t paying attention.”
Gradually, easy banter took over as if December never happened, and soon the lovebirds rejoined the rest of our little group. Having my best friend back reminded me of how much I’d missed her. I didn’t blame her for what happened at her uncle’s anymore. It wasn’t her fault.
****
One afternoon in late spring, I texted Marina and asked her to come over for apple cake. Not one to turn down baked goods, she appeared in our kitchen twenty minutes later. My parents slinked in behind her, sending me smug side glances. Especially Dad was having a hard time keeping the surprise a secret.
“Hi Marina,” he said. “So I hear the male trio’s headed to Shades Run State in fall?” Marina smiled brightly at him.
“Yes, sir. We’ll all be there—Kyle, Cody, and Lucio on different engineering tracks, and I’ll be doing nursing.”
“Look at you all.” My mother’s eyes danced with amusement. “Everybody’s accepted into their chosen career tracks…even Gaia.”
On cue I waived the acceptance letter in front of Marina. “Ta-dah! I got mail! Shades Run College of Art here I come!”
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” she squealed, threw her arms around me, and tried to make me bounce with her. “That’s insane, Gaia! I’m so stoked right now!”
“I know, right? We’ll all be together.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “You’ll be on the other side of town, though.”
“Oh come on, girls, you’ll be minutes from each other. Shades Run is a small town. All the students walk or bike,” Dad said.
Marina bumped into me, causing me to lose balance for a moment. “I’m still bringing my car, just in case.”
I thought of my own car and rolled my eyes. “Good, because my piece of junk is staying here.”
****
By the time our caps sailed through the air on graduation day, Lucio and I were considered a couple. We earned the reputation by holding hands in public and by me letting him pay at Johnny Rocket’s.
Holding Lucio’s hand grounded me. If I got moody or jumpy, he’d give me space instead of acting hurt. He understood when I needed to be alone, and he brought me home when I needed to brood in peace.
Three weeks into summer, Lucio kissed me. It happened during a romantic comedy I’d wanted to see at the theater. Even with his lips arching perfectly smooth and supple against mine, I could only be a lousy pretense of what he wanted and so I didn’t try. Lucio didn’t deserve someone as tepid as me, and it stung to glimpse the flicker of disillusion in his eyes.
Chapter 13 — Shades Run
Gaia
Mom rolled up the windows, and Luna’s hair got stuck.
“Ouch, wait!” she squealed. “Don’t close the window. You’re pulling me with you!”
She let out a nervous snicker, and Mom released her. My attention was on the view in front of me, though.
“It’s so pretty here,” Luna said, mirroring my thoughts. Mom nodded her agreement from behind the campus map. She’d managed to guide Dad all the way to the doorstep of my dorm.
“Hey, Gaia. You made it.” From the front door, Lucio’s cagey smile greeted me. His bike rested against the wall behind him.
“Yeah. How long did it take you from your dorm?”
“About five minutes.”
“Ha, told you,” Dad exclaimed, climbing out of the car. Then, he went back to scrutinizing the surroundings with an arm around Mom.
Quaint walkways snaked between campus buildings. I looked forward to losing myself in their classrooms, in the drawing, painting, and sculpting of my first semester coursework.
The girls’ dorm sat idyllically at the top of a hill. Inside, the crowns of lush pine trees framed a green hillside outside my window. It sloped gently down to a small mid-town. A couple of diners, a Wal-Mart, and a lone high-rise dominated the downtown area.
Luna opened the window and leaned out. “Oh, lookie, Gaia. Is that where all the boys live? I totally just saw a guy in the window over there!”
“Um, I’m a guy,” Lucio explained behind her.
“Me too, although I believe the right term is ‘dude’ for me,” Dad said.
“Hi…” Luna mouthed silently and waved, batting her lashes. I rolled my eyes. The boys’ quarters were indeed right across from us.
She’s so not visiting me here.
Our common dining hall sat in a one-story cement block between the two dorms. Twelve other girls lived on the fifth floor, most of them in rooms with double occupancy. We shared a kitchen, two bathrooms, and a TV room.
“What do you think?” Mom took a step back and studied her craftsmanship. The windowsill had sprouted a fake miniature jungle. Encircling the room, equally fake ivy curled around white Christmas lights under the ceiling.
She had draped a huge swath of fake fur across my bed. The snow leopard had always been my favorite animal, but Mom seemed to think I adored the stuffed variety too.
“Beautiful as always, Selene,” Dad rumbled.
“Yes, if by beautiful you meant that ‘Faux-Stuff-R-Us’ threw up in my room.”
Mom sent me a singeing glare. Suddenly nearsighted, Lucio seemed overly interested in the innards of my mini fridge.
“In a good way, Mom. I meant that in the best of ways.”
Luna burst into laughter, and Mom huffed and straightened the bedspread. “At least there’s no more ‘Sterile-Dentist’s-Offices-R-Us.’”
Hours later, as I hugged my sister in the parking lot, I realized that a chapter of my life was over. My family would be heading home without me.
“Gaia, don’t miss me too much, because I’ll be visiting super soon.” Luna tucked a silky lock behind her ear.
“No, you won’t,” Dad and I said at the same time.
“Yeah, jailbait,” Lucio coughed discreetly, making me gasp.
Oblivious, Luna pulled her shapely legs into the car. She closed the door and gave Dad an adorable pout.
As Lucio and I waved goodbye, the pang of freedom hit me like a physical blow. No more hiding secrets. No more mood swing cover-ups. I could do anything I wanted!
Lucio held the door for me as we walked back in. “How long are you allowed to have guests?”
Oh, right. Limited freedom.
“No male visitors after eleven p.m.”
“All right. Fifteen minutes and I’ll be out of here.”
Despite the restrictions, something akin to
happiness began to stir in me. For the first time since December, I felt…good.
****
College life came easy to our Spring Hills crew, and we met up at a student haunt several times a week.
During the day, I dove into my projects. Mom had always encouraged my talents, but I’d lacked inspiration since the accident. Now, the place and time were right, and I picked up where I’d left off.
In my art, I sometimes created angelic images on purpose, but mostly it happened without premeditation. Midway through the semester, the teacher of Drawing 100 asked that I stay after class.
She pulled out my latest sketch. The request had been to draw a landscape, but now she squinted at me, scratching the furrow between her eyebrows.
“Gaia, tell me your thought behind this piece, please. Did I misinterpret your intentions, or have you done it again?”
I studied it.
The shape of the mountains sloped too perfectly. Instead of leaves, the trees had feathers. My drawing revealed an angel’s spine, shoulders grooved by muscle and curving bone as he leaned forward. His head was cocked, and his face tilted toward me. In the midst of an all-green forest, Gabriel’s eyes stared back at me, eerily aquamarine.
The professor didn’t wait for a reply. “You need to concentrate. I cannot have you challenge every guideline I give. Do you understand how you affect the morale of the entire group?”
My hand flitted up, a reflex designed to wipe my eyes as if I still had tears running for him. The professor let out a sigh.
“Angels, always angels? Okay, so you didn’t plan this, but you have to focus, Gaia. Not all you do in my class can be angels.” She shot me a glance and turned to the window.
“There’s more to life than mythological beings. I need you to express what you see around you. The product is good enough, so you’ll get your A, but the next time I will not accept your work unless I get a different motif.”
With stinging eyes, I nodded at her back.
The following night, I buzzed Marina in while I completed my sculpting homework. The teacher wanted a chalk carving of a person, and I was making a face surrounded by flowing hair. Unfortunately, the brittle substance made it almost impossible.
I kept my mind off the three shattered blocks in the appropriately named “dustbin.” Beads formed on my upper lip as I held my breath and laid the finishing touches on the fourth attempt.
