I miss that.
I miss thinking nothing would ever happen.
And it’s not that I went around thinking it, but more since I didn’t know about this stuff I didn’t think about it at all.
I just lived.
Now, that worry hangs like a guillotine over my head. I’m sure, with time, it will lessen. But it’ll always be there.
When I get home, I head straight outside and to the expanse of beach outside our door.
The wind carrying off the ocean whips my hair around my shoulders as I stroll along. The water sparkles in the sunlight, looking as if it’s covered in glitter.
Eventually, I sit, drawing my knees up to my chest.
I startle when I feel the first tear on my cheek.
It isn’t often now that I cry about my situation. What’s the point in any of it? Of crying? Of being sad or angry? It doesn’t change the situation—it’ll still exist, I might as well be as happy as I can.
If I let it rob me of my happiness, I truly have lost everything then.
The tears, however, don’t seem to share in my mindset and continue to fall.
This isn’t easy, not by a long shot, but I’m thankful to still be here. To have a chance to grow up and get a job, maybe even get married one day.
Sometimes all those things feel like impossible hurdles to overcome, but I know they’re not.
What I’ve been through has been hard, so freaking hard, but the worst of it’s behind me and the best lies ahead.
That’s what I choose to focus on.
Not the bad.
Why anyone sits around and obsesses over bad things is beyond me. Bad things only have the ability to hurt you, to eat at you, if you give it permission. Sure, we all have days where we can’t help but feel down, but I also believe we can choose to make our own sunshine.
Or sometimes you’re lucky to have someone who is sunshine.
Like Harlow.
She lights up the world with every step she takes.
She’s special like that.
My phone buzzes, and I raise up to pull it from my back pocket.
Unknown Number: Hey, this is Willa right?
Willa: Um … yeah. Who is this?
Unknown Number: It’s Spencer.
Willa: Ohhhh.
Spencer: I got your number from your sister. I hope that’s okay.
Willa: Yeah, of course. I was worried a cereal killer got ahold of it or something.
A serial killer? Really, Willa? Get a grip.
Spencer: Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not a cereal killer.
I blink. And blink again, then look back at the text I sent.
Willa: Auto correct hates me. You know what I meant.
Spencer: Yeah, I do.
Spencer: What are your plans this weekend? Would you want to go to the beach?
Willa: Well, I have plans with Harlow and my friend Meredith.
Spencer: Oh, well maybe some other time then.
I take a breath and decide to plunge headfirst into uncharted waters—uncharted for me, at least.
Willa: Why don’t you join us? I know they wouldn’t mind.
Spencer: Are you sure?
Willa: Yeah. It’ll be fun.
I feel good about this decision. Spencer seems cool and genuinely nice, he should get along great with Meredith. True, Meredith can be a little … well, Meredith, but I think he can handle her.
Spencer: Cool. I will then. Where should I meet you?
Willa: How about Cool Beans Saturday at 11? We usually stop there and then head to the beach.
Spencer: Sounds great. See you then.
I feel this funny fluttery feeling in my chest and I smile, biting down on my lip to try and hide it.
I feel … giddy.
It’s a strange feeling.
I don’t think I’ve looked forward to something in a long time but, suddenly, I’m ready for the weekend.
“Is he cute?” Meredith asks, wrapping her lips around her Oreo iced coffee—calling it coffee is a stretch, more like a heart attack waiting to happen.
I shrug. “Yeah, he’s cute, but I don’t feel anything like that toward him. I mean, I only saw him once for like two minutes and before that we only knew each other when we were kids.”
“Sometimes I wish I grew up here and knew people when we were little.”
“Trust me,” Harlow interrupts, coming to the table with her iced vanilla latte, “you don’t want that. Then you remember that time Justin Kirk ate a worm on a dare in second grade and you can’t get behind everyone’s backing that he’s the hottest guy in your class.” She shrugs as the two of us stare at her. “What?” she asks innocently, blowing her straw wrapper at me. I pull it out of my hair and lay it on the table.
“Nothing,” I say. While Meredith says, “Do tell me more.”
“Don’t tell her more,” I warn Harlow. “She’ll only use it as blackmail against people.”
Meredith rolls her eyes and brushes her long, red hair over her shoulder. “Oh, ye of little faith. Blackmail makes the world turn. Without it, no one would ever get what they want.”
“I’m sure there are other ways to get what you want.”
“Yeah, but they’re not as fun,” she argues.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Spencer’s voice breaks into our conversation. “I had to help my mom. Let me grab a coffee real quick.” He points over his shoulder with a smile before getting in line.
“You didn’t tell me he was hot,” Meredith hisses, leaning across the table to me.
“You didn’t ask,” I defend.
She turns and looks at him and I know, without a doubt, she’s staring at his ass.
Meredith is shameless.
“How come I’ve never noticed him before?”
“Probably because he’s smart.” Harlow hides this slur behind a cough, but Meredith catches it anyway.
“Just because I’m more interested in the art of taking off my clothes doesn’t mean I’m not smart,” she snaps.
I snort. “Mere, you’re as much of a virgin as I am, get off your high horse.”
Her cheeks flame. “It’s not my fault high school boys suck and don’t know what they’re doing. I’m not losing my virginity to a clueless imp, but that boy” —she looks significantly back at Spencer— “looks like he’d know what to do with his hands.” She makes a crude face and cups her breasts.
I dive across the table, swatting at her.
“Stop that,” I hiss. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“You’re no fun.” She frowns. “You should know by now I don’t care what people think of me.”
“And that’s your problem,” I tell her. “It makes you do things no sane person would ever do.”
She points her finger at me. “I never claimed to be sane.”
I shake my head as Spencer joins us and takes the empty chair beside me.
I hadn’t even realized Harlow had purposely sat beside Meredith so this space was empty. If I had, I would’ve demanded she sit by me. She smiles at me triumphantly from across the table like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Little traitor.
“My best friend’s parents own this place,” he muses, playing with his straw. “You met him. T.J.,” he adds to my blank look.
“Oh, right. We love this place.”
“Should we head to the beach?” he asks, looking at the three of us. “Hi, I’m Spencer.” He holds out his hand to Meredith.
She takes it with a smile like a snake about to devour its prey.
Poor Spencer doesn’t know what’s coming for him, but he seems like a nice guy, maybe he could tame Meredith.
Harlow glances at me with a worried look and I shake my head.
I’m not interested in Spencer, not like that, at least. But it does feel nice to be around someone new. Harlow doesn’t need to get worried about me being jealous. I don’t feel anything for Spencer other than a growing fondness.
“I’m Meredith
,” she says, releasing his hand.
Spencer glances at me with a look that says he knows he’s in trouble with this one and I laugh.
We leave our cars parked where they are and walk the mile to the beach.
It’s a cooler day, in the high sixties, with a strong breeze making it feel cooler.
“Are you ready for graduation?” I ask Spencer.
He shrugs, his hands shoved deep into his khaki cargo shorts. “Yeah, in a lot of ways I am ready. It’s the next step, you know, but it’s scary too.”
Meredith makes a noise. “I’m shocked to hear a guy say that.”
He snorts. “What? We can’t have feelings and worry about things too? This is a big thing. College. Work. Adulthood. I don’t know about you guys but I feel sorely unprepared. Like, how do I know how to do taxes? Or balance a checkbook? Or … loads of other shit.” He ruffles the back of his hair nervously. “There’s a lot to think about.”
“Have you decided on a college?” Harlow asks him.
“SMC,” he answers. “I don’t want to leave home. I love it here too much. I can’t imagine living somewhere else, even for only a few years. What about you guys?” he asks Meredith and me.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “I got into several places, some here and some where I’d have to leave, but I honestly don’t know if I’m cut out for college. I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. Going to college scares me. I don’t want to be trapped doing something I hate, but I don’t want to not get an education, either. I’ll have to decide what I’m doing soon.”
Spencer shrugs and gives me a sympathetic look. “You could give yourself another year, you know? You don’t have to decide anything right now. It’s a big decision and it should be your decision. Do what your heart tells you.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” He grins back. “And what about you?” He turns to Meredith.
“I’m planning to go to UCLA.”
“Really?” He raises a brow in inquiry.
“What?” she questions a little snappily. “Do I not look smart?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s … that’s a tough school. I’m not surprised, but I am impressed.”
Her smile returns at that.
“Do you skateboard a lot?” I ask him. “I don’t think I could ever do that. I’d fall flat on my face.”
“It’s not that hard, I promise you.” He laughs. “You might like it. If you guys ever want to try it, my friends and I would be happy to teach you.”
Meredith looks stricken at the idea but quickly sobers. “That might be … fun.”
He laughs, taking note that fun wasn’t the word she wanted to use. “We’d go easy on you. No crazy tricks.”
“Sounds fun to me,” Harlow pipes in.
We reach the beach, and instead of stopping on the sand, we continue on to the pier where there’s more to do. It’s the weekend, so the pier is busy with locals and tourists. It’s nothing compared to how it’ll be in only a few short weeks when summer vacation season hits.
It becomes nearly impossible to get around.
The pier boasts small shops, games, food stands, and the Ferris Wheel. It stretches up, up, up into the sky overlooking the ocean.
I’ve been on it a few times, and each time I swear is better than the last. I feel free up there, like a bird ready to soar across the sky into new horizons.
When I’m up there, I can’t think, I only exist in the moment.
“Anyone want to play?” Spencer asks, stopping at one of the games. It’s one you toss a basketball and try to score as many points as you can, beating the person next to you.
“I will,” Harlow volunteers when neither Meredith or I say anything.
He hands some money to the man working the booth and they both step up.
When it dings, they start throwing the balls into the basket.
Harlow is surprisingly good at it, and in the end beats Spencer by twenty solid points.
She accepts her giant blue stuffed gorilla with a beaming smile.
Spencer can’t help but laugh. “Good game.”
“I wanted the gorilla.” She shrugs. “Or I would have gone easy on you.”
He waves his hand and grins. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
Harlow clutches her gorilla under her arm and we move on to another booth. This one, you shoot water guns at a target.
“I’ll meet back up with you guys,” I say, spotting my favorite store tucked around the corner.
“Are you sure?” Harlow asks.
“Yeah, I won’t be long,” I assure her.
I leave them behind and step into the store. It’s tiny, with every surface covered in some sort of jewelry made from seashells. From the ceiling, kites made from paper meant for decoration swing merrily. Interspersed throughout the shop are sketches and paintings by local artists.
“Ms. Willa,” chimes Julio upon hearing me.
“Julio.” I beam back at him.
I met Julio on a very bad day shortly after my diagnosis. My friends had brought me here, it was supposed to be fun, but I found many of their comments to be insensitive instead of understanding. I’d dashed in here to get away, crying my eyes out. Julio had asked me why I was crying and, after a bit of hesitation, I told him.
He held me while I cried, like a grandfather would their grandchild, and told me with total certainty, “This is one bridge of many you will cross in your life m’dear. But if you don’t cross it, you don’t get to the next one, and you have to because good lies there—just like some good lies here too. There’s good and bad in everything, it’s up to us to determine what we make of it. Like me? I went blind at twelve years old. I miss seeing the sun, and my parents’ faces—I’ll never see my own children’s faces. But if I hadn’t gone blind, I would’ve never met my wife—she saved me when I nearly walked into traffic. I wouldn’t take this back if it meant I never met her. She not only saved my life, she completed my soul.”
“How is my favorite little flower?”
“I’m doing okay.” I touch my finger to a bracelet with turquoise beads and shells.
He clucks his tongue. “That doesn’t sound too convincing.”
I smile, though he can’t see. “You know too much.”
“Ah.” He taps his forehead. “God might’ve taken my sight from me, but he gave me much more than I had before, and it’s the ability to hear emotions. I don’t have to see your face to know you’re sad. Now, tell me, what is it?”
I sigh and turn to him. He’s seated in a chair that hangs from the ceiling and sways as he moves. His gray hair is cut short and appears almost white next to his dark skin. His eyes stare beyond me, unseeing. In his lap his hands are clasped, his thumbs rubbing back and forth against each other.
I move in front of him and sit down on the floor, crossing my legs.
“Lots of things, Julio. Sometimes this is easy to deal with, and sometimes it’s freaking hard. I feel like I’m never going to get a kidney, and I feel horrible for wishing for one, because that means I’m wishing for someone to die so I can live, and what kind of person does that make me?”
“That’s quite the conundrum.” He swings lazily in the chair. “But you do not want someone to die.”
“No, of course not. It’s, unfortunately, what has to happen.”
“You should not dwell on such things that are not in your control.”
“I know.” I look away. “But I can’t help it. I know it’ll happen when it happens,.”
“My sources tell me it’ll be soon.” He grins at me.
“Your sources, huh?”
“The spirits whisper to me, you know?”
“How high are you right now?” I ask, laughing.
He laughs back. “On a scale of one to ten? I’m a solid twelve, m’dear.”
“Well” —I shrug, suppressing a laugh— “I guess it could be worse.”
“I think the word you’re looking for i
s better. It could be better.”
I shake my head and twiddle with the laces on my sneakers to have something to do with my hands.
“I know you can’t help but get down some days, it’s natural, but find something that makes you happy and focus your energy on that. The other stuff will fade away.”
“Thanks, Julio.”
“Anytime.” He points at me with a small smile. “You do not visit me enough, Ms. Willa.”
“I know, I’m sorry for that.”
“It’s okay. You have your own life, I know.”
I snort. Some life I have.
“Come with me,” he says, standing.
I follow him to a small back room where he keeps his new stock. He moves fluidly, not bumping into anything—someone who didn’t know wouldn’t even realize he’s blind.
“Aha,” he peals, closing his hand around a bracelet and holding it out for me. “When I got this in, I knew I must give it to Ms. Willa. To bring her sunshine and luck.”
I take the bracelet from him and twirl it in my fingers. It boasts yellow beads, interspersed with shells, with a single charm dangling from it—a silver sun.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him honestly, slipping it on.
“Every time you look at it,” he tells me, “think of something happy.”
“Thank you, Julio.” I hug the man who’s shown me nothing but kindness the last three years. He’s right, I don’t visit him enough, and I feel bad for that.
“You come see me again soon, Ms. Willa.”
“I will.” And this time, it’s not an empty promise, it’s a vow.
I leave the store and Harlow, Meredith, and Spencer are no longer at the game. I stroll for a bit and spot Harlow waving to me from a picnic table set up outside a food stand. I weave through the crowd and join them.
“I got you a sandwich, I hope that’s okay.” There’s an apology in her eyes as she and Spencer eat a hot dog—which I’m not allowed to eat. Meredith, however, is eating a sandwich like mine.
“This is fine,” I tell my sister. “Thanks for getting it.”
“Not a problem.” She smiles, clearly relieved.
I sit down beside Spencer and take a bite of my sandwich before digging my pills out of my purse.
In the beginning, it was hard to remember to take them when I ate. Now, it’s automatic and half the time I don’t remember if I’ve taken them or not.
The Other Side of Tomorrow Page 6
