Only Love Can Break Your Heart

by Katherine Webber

  “Rei, I love you, but that is a big deal. If you tell someone stop, and they don’t stop, that is a big deal. That isn’t ‘nothing’ − that is something. And this is the kind of thing you tell your best friend, OK? I’m sorry. That’s a super shitty thing that happened.”

  “I just felt stupid, you know?” I say, trailing my fingers across the top of the water. “I thought I knew him.” I thought he was someone I could trust. I thought he was someone I could feel safe with.

  Dre picks up my hand and squeezes it. “First of all, you have nothing to feel stupid about. If Seth made you feel uncomfortable and unsafe, that is his fault. He’s the stupid one. Hell, do you want me to get Tori involved? I can, you know.”

  I smile at her. “Thanks, Dre,” I say. “I’m fine, I was then and I am now, but I feel better talking to you about it.”

  “You just remember he’s a total shithead, and not worth you at all. Not even worth your pinky. Not even worth your pinky nail. Not even worth a clipping of your pinky nail! OK?”

  “Got it,” I say. “I guess, even after everything, the break-up and all that, part of me thought he still cared about me. At least a little. And he clearly doesn’t. And it made me wonder if he ever cared about me. Or if … if none of it meant anything. And then seeing him unexpectedly at the beach band thing … it kind of brought up all the hurt again, you know?”

  She squeezes my hand again. “I know,” she says. “I know.”

  I take a big breath. My mom is always telling me to be mindful of my breathing, especially when I’m overwhelmed, and you know what? It helps. I do it again, but this time in through my nose and out through my mouth and I feel like I’m not only breathing out air but I’m breathing all my hurt out.

  “You all right?” says Dre. “You are huffing and puffing like you are the big bad wolf getting ready to blow a house down.”

  I snort mid-exhale. “Dre!” I say in-between laughs. “I was being mindful. It’s a thing.”

  Dre’s brows furrow. “If you say so. OK, other than breathing in and out like a lady in labor, what else would make you feel better?”

  I shade my eyes and look up into the blue sky, watching the clouds again. One seems to grow wings before my very eyes and in the light breeze, it almost looks like a flying bird.

  A flying eagle.

  I turn toward Dre. “Can you go somewhere with me tonight?”

  “Sure. Where to?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  CHAPTER 64

  We go on Route 66 and for a moment, I feel that old familiar pang of hurt that Seth isn’t with me for this adventure. Even after everything that has happened, I miss the version of him that I knew last summer.

  “I don’t believe we’re graduating so soon,” I say from the passenger seat. Dre is driving and I’m navigating.

  “Me either,” she says. And then: “I hate that we aren’t going to the same school.”

  “Me too,” I say. And quieter: “I hate that I don’t even know where I’m going. If I’m going anywhere. Maybe I’ll just stay here for ever.”

  “Don’t say that, Rei. It’ll all work out.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I wonder who we’ll keep in touch with. Do you think we’ll keep in touch with, like … Zach Garcia?” I look pointedly at her.

  If I didn’t know Dre so well, didn’t know every feature of her face and all of the expressions it can make, I would have missed it: the flash of wistfulness that flies across her features. But I know Dre’s face better than my own. Even in the dim evening light.

  “Oh my God! Andrea Torres! Have you been keeping secrets from me?”

  Dre squeezes her eyes shut for so long that I smack her on the arm. “Eyes on the road, Dre. Eyes on the road! And talk.”

  “OK, fine. You can’t get mad at me for not telling you. Do you promise?”

  “I promise!”

  Dre takes a deep breath. “Zach and I have kind of been hooking up for a while.”

  “What?” A while? They’ve been hooking up for a while? A memory stirs in my brain. Zach saying that he was glad I had Andrea when he took me for coffee. And I thought he was hitting on me. Because that’s what I always think. But really, he must have been checking in on me to be nice to her. Oh my God, I can’t believe I’ve been so self-obsessed. I didn’t see what was right in front of my face.

  “I didn’t want to … rub it in with everything going on with you … and plus, we don’t really want people talking about it. You understand, right? You have to understand that.”

  I understand, but it still hurts that she didn’t tell me. It hurts more that she didn’t tell me because she thought I wouldn’t be able to handle it. And I hate that I was so wrapped up in myself to even notice something so major happening with my best friend.

  “That’s … awesome,” I manage. “So … do you really like him?”

  “I don’t know. He’s going to Oregon State and I’m going to UCLA… It isn’t like either of us wants to start college in a long-distance relationship.” She grins at me. “Plus, I’ll already be in a long-distance relationship with you. I hope my room-mate is OK with you visiting all the time.”

  I know she’s trying to make me feel better about not getting in, but it stings anyway. And I’m not letting her get away with changing the subject. “Nope, no changing the subject, Andrea Magdalena Torres. I want to know more about you and Zach.”

  “Well, since you brought out the Magdalena… Promise you aren’t mad?”

  “Promise,” I say, and she holds out her pinky and I link mine with it.

  “Well,” she says, lowering her voice and settling back into the driver’s seat, and I know she’s getting into story mode. “Do you remember that party at the track over the summer?”

  “Of course,” I say, and then I smirk. “But I’m surprised you remember any of it. You were smashed.”

  Dre shushes me. “Ahem. I’m telling this story. I was just setting the scene for you. So, that night on the track…”

  As she tells me how Zach kept coming up to her that night and then showed up the next day at her place with donuts and how later they snuck into one of the big hotel pools and then he took her to meet his moms, I start to realize that there wasn’t anything all that special about the adventures that Seth and I were having. Here I was, thinking that nobody could understand, and that nobody else could be having adventures like us, living life like us, and Andrea and Zach were off on their own adventures, in their own world, keeping their own secrets too.

  And it makes me realize something else.

  That the things I miss about Seth − our adventures, and how I felt when I was with him − have less to do with him, and more to do with me.

  I made Seth into someone I needed him to be, in the same way he made me into someone else. He was an escape from my grief, and I was an escape from a world he didn’t want to be in.

  I don’t think love should be an escape. And I don’t think it should be about power either.

  I think love should make you stronger. A better person not a worse one. And even though my love for Mika broke my heart, I think it made me stronger too.

  Seth didn’t break my heart. It was already broken.

  But I think it’s healing now.

  And maybe someday I’ll be able to go on adventures with someone else.

  CHAPTER 65

  “We’re almost there,” I say.

  We’ve passed the date farm and the ghost towns. We’re almost to Ruth Setmire’s house.

  “This is … weird,” Dre said when I told her about Ruth Setmire and how she made me promise to come back and tell her what I’d learned about myself. Then she laughed. “I mean, when I used to ask you what the hell you and Seth got up to … I didn’t think it was visiting little old ladies.”

  “Don’t let Ruth hear you call her that,” I said. “She’s fierce. Also old ladies can be fun,” I add, thinking of the women at the care home.

  “Does she know we’re com
ing?” Dre asks now.

  I shake my head. “She didn’t know last time either.”

  “What if she isn’t there?”

  “She’ll be there,” I say, with more confidence than I feel. She has to be. “She asked us to come back.”

  “So … is she expecting … Seth? Is she going to be confused when you rock up with a hot Mexican babe instead of an ugly white guy?”

  I laugh and elbow Dre. “Andrea!”

  “What? It’s true. I’m hot and Seth’s … not. No matter what you say. Or Libby. Speaking of. Who knew she would be such a snake?”

  I shrug. “Probably should have seen it coming.” Then I recognize the street we’re on. “Oh, turn in here. I’ll buzz.”

  “Is that Gloria’s granddaughter?” Ruth’s voice crackles through the intercom. “Well, I’ll be… You came back!”

  “A deal is a deal,” I say.

  Ruth’s living room is littered with cards and unopened boxes and flowers. “It was my eighty-eighth birthday last week,” she says.

  “Looks like you got spoiled,” I say, reading the card on a bouquet of a dozen red roses. I make a mental note of the date for next year.

  “Oh, those are from my nieces who live out in New York.” Then she cackles. “I think they can’t stand it that I’m still around and kicking. They wanna know what is in my will! Or, I should say, who!” She winks at us. “Little do they know I plan on living for ever.”

  Dre nods. “Sounds like a good plan. I’m Andrea, by the way. I’m a friend of Reiko’s.”

  “Last time she was here she was with a ‘friend’ too,” says Ruth, putting the word in air quotations. “What happened to him?”

  “We’re not friends anymore. And I don’t know if we ever really were,” I say, and it is the simplest and the hardest truth for me to say.

  “Ah, I see,” says Ruth. “Well, I’d say that’s a shame, but I don’t think it is.”

  “That is some dope wisdom,” says Dre, nodding approvingly.

  “You don’t live to be my age without getting a little bit wise,” says Ruth. Then she gives us a wicked grin. “You either get wisdom or you lose your marbles. Now come sit down, we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  Ruth is just as vibrant and irreverent as I remember her, but even in the past few months I can see she’s aged. For all her big talk about living for ever, she seems older, and more fragile.

  She takes us out to see her studio. It is in what must have once been a garage. There is a huge kiln in the corner and a fine coating of dust on everything. One whole wall is covered with easels, and the other has shelves and shelves of pottery.

  “Did your mama ever spot the difference in the eagles?” Ruth says.

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Thank you again for that.”

  “It wasn’t a gift, remember? It was a loan. A conditional loan. You’ve got to show me how you’ve grown.” Her eyes are bright.

  “Whoa,” whispers Dre. “This is some deep shit.”

  “Deep shit is right!” Ruth declares. “Now go on, Reiko.”

  “I guess, I want to live my best life, but for me. Not for anybody else.”

  Ruth is beaming. “That sounds pretty good, my girl. I think you’ve earned that eagle. So what do you think of my studio? I don’t use it much anymore. My hands aren’t what they used to be. But this is where I used to make everything. Where I made the eagle.” She shows us various pieces and tells us when she made them, and why. Andrea is fascinated.

  “Dre, I didn’t know you were so interested in art,” I say.

  “This one has an artist’s soul, I can tell,” says Ruth.

  Dre glows.

  I smile at her, but part of me is jealous. I want an artist’s soul.

  “And you” − Ruth turns to me, as if I’d spoken my uncharitable thoughts out loud − “you have a wandering soul.”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t … I don’t like to travel.” Swimming in my pool is one thing. Flying across a wide open ocean is another.

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” says Ruth. “You need to spread these wings of yours and fly. For you, you hear me? Not for anyone else. I’ll do another deal with you,” she goes on. “Both of you, pick out something from my shelves. Another loan. Then come back in a year, and you” − she looks at Andrea − “tell me what kind of art you’ve made. And you” − her eyes dart back to me − “tell me how you’ve flown.”

  “Ruth, we couldn’t take something from you,” I protest. “You’ve already been so kind, and the eagle was a unique circumstance.”

  “And it worked, didn’t it! Look at you! And don’t tell me what to do. I’m eighty-eight and I’ll do what I want and what I want is to make a bargain with you two. What do you say?”

  I look at Dre, who smiles and nods.

  “I say, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Damn right I do! And I think I’m getting the better end of the bargain. It does my old soul good to see Gloria’s granddaughter. So if I have to use a little bribery, well, I’m not above it. The stuff in here” − she waves her arms around − “it’s just collecting dust. I like knowing that it has a new home. Especially if it means I’ll get a guaranteed visitor. One I actually like, mind you!”

  My eyes prickle unexpectedly and I lean over and kiss Ruth on her papery cheek. “It isn’t bribery. We’d come see you anyway,” I say, but Ruth is shaking her head.

  “I don’t need charity, but what we’ve got here is a deal. Now come on, pick something out and hit the road so I can go to sleep. It’s past my bedtime.”

  Dre picks out a tiny wolf, frozen in mid-howl.

  I find a small cactus, recreated in perfect detail. It even has a little owl hidden in a hollow.

  “Now you’ve got a little piece of the desert you can take with you wherever you go,” says Ruth, pressing the cactus into my hand.

  CHAPTER 66

  The days are getting warmer and longer.

  I barely think about Seth anymore. He still hangs around our group of friends, but he’s easy to ignore. His relationship with Libby is on-again/off-again and even that doesn’t bother me. I spend most of my time with Dre and Zach and our other friends. I’m not worried about who I’ll go to prom with, or how they’ll ask me. I just want to enjoy the rest of high school.

  One Saturday morning in April, I’m sitting having cereal next to my mom while she is going through our mail. We’ve been spending more time together now, and not just on Wednesdays when we go to the care home together.

  She stops suddenly, holding up a fat white envelope. “Reiko? What’s this?”

  It’s got a ton of stickers and stamps on it, like it came from far away.

  Like it came from Japan.

  I steel myself for another rejection, and this one will be worse because it will be in front of my mom too, but my dad is already taking the envelope out of my mom’s hands. It is more than an envelope, more like a parcel.

  “Reiko! I think you got in!” he says.

  “Got in where?” says my mom, peering over his shoulder.

  My dad isn’t listening. He’s ripping open the envelope, and I want to disappear, because it is painful enough to get rejected without it being so public…

  “You got in! You got in! Reiko! You got into Temple University!”

  “Temple University in Japan?” My mom’s voice is tight.

  I take the parcel from my dad. “I thought … I thought when they never emailed me that I hadn’t gotten in. I didn’t think that they’d send it in the mail-mail, especially not this late.”

  My dad is grinning, and practically bouncing. “They must have sent out their acceptances late.”

  “But … it’s so far,” says my mom.

  My dad puts his arm around my mom’s shoulders.

  I close my eyes, so I don’t have to see her face.

  “She isn’t going to stay at home for ever. If it isn’t Japan, it’ll be somewhere else,” my dad says softly.
/>   I think about the other schools I got into. My dad was right: I did get into other schools. Good schools too, but nowhere that I was that excited about.

  Going to school in Japan.

  On my own.

  The tiny spark of wanting that is always hidden deep inside of me flares to life, warming me. Encouraging me.

  “I want to go to Japan,” I say. My mom looks stunned, and sits down. My dad looks a bit teary-eyed. “But, Dad, it isn’t for you. I mean, I’m glad you’ll be happy, but … I’ve always wanted to go. I think I just … hid it. Because I felt bad. I felt guilty. And I didn’t want to fly across an ocean. But now I think I can.” I take a deep breath. “Even without Mika.”

  “It’s what she would want,” my dad says.

  “I know,” I say. “But that isn’t why I want to go. I can’t live for her for ever. I can only live for me.”

  My mom envelops me in a hug. “That’s really what she would want.”

  I haven’t seen Mika since that day at the beach. I need to talk to her about this, I need to tell her.

  I think I know where she is.

  I know where I have to go.

  CHAPTER 67

  I get in the car alone.

  And then I drive west. I drive and drive and drive. I drive out of the desert. I drive until all of a sudden, the ocean rises up next to me. I have the beach all to myself. I take my sandals off and hold them in my hand as I step out onto the sand. It burns my feet. It is softer than desert sand. Softer and finer.

  Reiko, Reiko, calls the sea. Reiko, Reiko…

  I follow its call. I walk through the sand, eyes straight ahead, fixed on the horizon.

  I gasp as the cold water kisses my feet. And for an instant, I am filled with fear, but then I take a deep breath, and I take another step, and another, until the water is up to my knees. There are seagulls screaming above me, and the water is so cold and the sun is so hot and my heart is so heavy it is going to burst. It has been so heavy for so many years, and it is like this cold water is piercing it because my heart is finally bursting, but it doesn’t hurt, it feels like relief. Maybe it isn’t bursting; maybe it is putting itself back together.