The Resolutions

by Mia Garcia

  Lee knew she was crying and turned her head up toward the sky, letting the rain sting and mix with her tears. She hated that her mind could easily bring up the worst but struggled to find a happy memory. Her feet ached when she arrived; she couldn’t tell the difference between herself and the rain. She knocked, the door opening instantly.

  “I got your message,” was all David got out before Lee stepped in and kissed him, feeling her body lean in, demanding more.

  “What’s wrong?” He gathered her in his arms as her lips found his again.

  Lee took his hand and led him to his bedroom, tiny pools of water forming behind her.

  “Lee . . .” David dropped her hand and hovered by the doorway.

  She held out her hand, waiting. With only a moment of hesitation he followed her in and closed the door.

  Maybe it wasn’t fair to David to use his lips to push away the hurt. To let the feel of his hands on her hips eviscerate the thoughts of her future, a future so full of uncertainties and so out of control. But she needed it. When their skin touched, she felt alive, she felt possible.

  David’s shirt was wet from holding on to Lee so closely; it clung to his chest as she pulled it off. Hers landed with a plop on the floor, releasing her from a chill she hadn’t noticed until now.

  David’s chest against hers was so warm she clung to him as his lips trailed down her neck. They tumbled toward the bed, hands tripping over zippers. She unclipped her bra and let it slide to the floor, taking deep breaths as David’s eyes traveled up her body to meet hers.

  “Are you sure?”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m sure.”

  His lips engulfed hers as his hands slipped down her underwear, flirting with the heat in her body until it reached to the sky, breaking into a thousand stars to reassemble down on earth. David kissed down her neck, bringing her back to the bed and his arms. She teased his lips as she pulled down his jeans, feeling his heartbeat with every trail of her kisses. She didn’t mind the awkwardness of naked body against naked body, of that gasp of a new sensation, and she focused on the touch of his hands and the look in his eyes as he broke into a million stars and gazed at her like the sun.

  Jess

  JESS WAS USUALLY early even when she tried to be late, but these last few weeks no matter how hard she tried, something always got in the way. She either slept through her alarms, got pulled into helping someone at the center, or got so involved in researching scholarships and deadlines that she lost track of time. Today was the first time in a while she’d managed to be early to anything.

  Grateful for her time alone before Beth arrived for their run, she watched the sun rise above the massive trees that had populated the area for hundreds of years. Jess loved running here; there was something about the rattle of leaves as the sun pushed through the night that quieted everything. A little piece of magic. She was counting on the magic to quiet her mind once again, which started to push back whenever she tried to stomp down the worries.

  Just as she found a new way to settle down, her mind pumped the worries back up again, mocking her. How would she survive senior year if she couldn’t get through the summer? Two weeks left. Practically a ticking clock of incomplete tasks and looming deadlines.

  Her body ached to start running, to silence the echoes in her head. She looked down at her watch; only five minutes had passed, but it felt more like thirty. Beth should be here by now. She tied and retied her laces, stretching by a nearby bench. She focused on the feel of her muscles pulling and bending, her skin flexing until it felt like it could tear. Jess dropped down into a downward-facing dog position and let her body loosen even more. Her muscles felt so much better after a few moves. She lifted her right leg up to the sky, then the left, when she heard the crunch of gravel behind her. Beth waved from the driver’s side.

  “Hey! I’m not super late, am I?”

  “No.” Jess twisted her torso to the left, hearing something pop, which pleased her. Then she twisted to the right. “I was early.”

  Jess parked herself on the bench, waiting for Beth to stretch, glad that no matter how late she’d recently been, Beth was always happy to adjust and switch up their running dates. Sometimes Jess wondered if Nora even knew how lucky she was to have her. She had to be the sweetest girl in the entire school. Then again, she was lucky to have Nora.

  Beth tightened her long, blond hair in a ponytail. Jess’s own dark-brown hair was contained at the top of her head in a giant bun, the streaks of blond highlights Nora had convinced her to get shooting up toward the sky, a halo of flyaways surrounding her head. Her hair was flat and wavy this morning, which was pretty good for her hair, even if the strands all headed in different directions.

  Jess leaned her head back and cleared her mind, pushing away the passing of time and deadlines that always lingered at the corners of her mind. The sun streaked across the sky, illuminating details previously hidden in shadow. She focused on the dense of green in the distance, her mind wandering. The farther away they were, the more the trees looked like paintings on a canvas.

  “Can you believe summer is almost over?” Beth said.

  She could. She hadn’t been able to forget it.

  “Passed by so fast.” Jess crunched the gravel below her feet, pressing it farther and farther into the earth, and hopefully her anxiety along with it.

  “How fucked-up is it that we’ll be seniors in a month? That is RIDICULOUS.”

  Jess nodded. She didn’t want to think about everything that followed the party. Senior year, college applications, running for Student Council president . . . the first bead of sweat trickled down her spine.

  “You okay?” Beth plopped down beside her, eager smile at the ready to tackle all of life’s problems. “You’re a bit quiet today.”

  She wondered if Beth had the same worries, if she felt the same pressure building with each passing day. She and Beth were usually tied for most things, so she imagined she would be, but it never felt like Beth let anything get to her. “Just a lot on my mind.”

  “I bet. Are you registered for any AP classes this year?”

  “Yeah.” The thought of them made her queasy. “Three.”

  “Ugh. So annoying, isn’t it? I signed up for just two, and I already feel like a failure. Senior year should be fun, and all I can think about is how to make myself sound like I could be the next president of the United States on a scholarship essay.” Beth rambled on, oblivious to Jess’s mood. “Like you have to kill yourself with extracurricular activities just so someone thinks you’re good enough to go to college and not be crushed by debt for the rest of your life. Sorry—clearly my essays are going well. How about you?”

  “Same.”

  She’d started two scholarship essays already, scrapping and revising each time she read them, the due dates looming over her head each time she started anew.

  “It’s like a full-time job or something,” Beth said. Jess wanted to ask which ones—if they were applying for the same ones, Jess might have less of a chance. She and Beth were just a few points away from each other academically, but Beth was better ranked as a runner. “I have no idea how you do it with all the work you do. Nora says she barely sees you now.”

  She barely saw anyone, and when she did her anxiety screamed at her that she should be doing more productive things.

  Her right leg was shaking—how long had it been shaking?

  “Let’s start. I need to blow off some stress.”

  Beth nodded.

  Jess shook off the thoughts before they could continue to tumble. They both placed their earbuds in and dashed off, her legs singing as they picked up the pace. This, Jess thought, was what I needed. The feel of her legs as she bounded down the path, her muscles heating, the sound of her feet against the gravel, melting everything else away. She tuned the world to the beat of her own heart, the inhale of her lungs. Go, go, go. She felt Beth steady next to her, keeping pace, she hadn’t broken away yet—she didn’t
need to. The steady burn and push was enough for her now.

  The music changed beats, unfamiliar, faster—she hadn’t remembered putting this on her phone. Checking the name, she found it came from the party playlist draft Nora started. It was your typical upbeat song, generic enough to become a runaway pop hit. How had she even ended up on it? She flipped back to her running playlist, eager to get back to her usual rhythm, but the party song was still stuck in her head. She didn’t want to think of the damn party she had to throw in October because she opened her stupid mouth. Because her resolutions weren’t going the way her friends wanted them to. It wasn’t her fault no one had asked her to do anything fun. And why hadn’t they? Was Jess not a fun person? People thought she should run for president, run complex programs at the center, but not . . .

  But not what, Jess? You can’t even think of any fun things to do! That should be a clue, shouldn’t it?

  She had the party. That party was a fun idea if it didn’t come along at the worst time. She should’ve said no, no to everything. No to running for president, no to every damn program at the center, no to the party, even though it was the one thing that fit the true purpose of her resolution.

  Damn, her heartbeat felt wrong, faster than it should be. And that song was snug in her head, making itself at home: go, go, go, Jess.

  “I’m going to speed up, okay?” Beth yelled.

  “Cool.” Jess waved her off as Beth sped away, feeling a sting of jealousy. Did Beth feel like her mind was running away with thoughts most of the time? Had Beth’s summer been filled with late nights freaking out over campaign strategies and losing her friends?

  It only took a moment before the jumble of thoughts overpowered her. Everything was pumping—the music, her legs, her heart, a constant drumming that should’ve drowned out everything in her head but didn’t. Louder and louder the thoughts became until a shouting match erupted.

  You’ll just have to work harder, you can work harder, you can work until your muscles ache and your brain fuzzes, you’ve done it before, what’s the big deal? So what if you fail? Because you probably will. You’re so close to it, don’t you see? Failure is inevitable, why would you think you could do anything else?

  Burn, burn, burn. Her muscles ached, she was breathing hard, her lungs struggling to keep up, she could feel her body slowing down.

  God—you can’t even run anymore! Isn’t that supposed to be your thing? What else are you good for?

  The ground wobbled, jutting out toward her at odd angles, and if she didn’t slow down she would meet it face-first. She veered off the path, almost slamming into several trees as she did finally slow down enough to collapse in a small clearing. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to slow her breath as the swirl of thoughts circled around her, in and out with the deep drumming of her heart.

  Worthless. Beat. Loser. Beat. Failure.

  They circled round and round like a drain. She dragged gulps and gulps of breath from her body until she felt ragged, a sob retching free. She shook, a faint part of herself whispering: It’s just the cold—you aren’t broken. Even though she was certain it was a lie.

  Her hand flexed; she felt the cool grass below.

  Her heart would not quiet, her breath still labored on like her feet were still pounding away. Her body was betraying her, another gulp rushing up, a sob ready to break out again. In her mind, she listed out everything she needed to do for the party that was months away, unable to stop herself. Who knew her love of lists would backfire?

  “Jess?” she heard Beth call out. Please don’t find me this way.

  She wanted out of her skin, so sticky and covered in sweat.

  But how could she? She needed to buy the cups and make food. Did you serve food at a party? The first blade of grass tickled her fingers. Had she even asked her parents? The ground was colder than she expected. Did she even check if there was any summer homework for her AP classes? The dirt pushed between her fingernails, a sting of pain as it cut through her nail bed. How could she not check? Of course there would be homework. Christ, Jess, there’s always stuff to do. She closed her eyes, pushing farther down, moving dirt and wiggling her fingers through when the ground would not give. When she could not push anymore she dug, pulling up clumps of packed dirt, loosening it with her hands before jutting them back in, her palms now covered in loose earth, cold earth, that felt like a cool glass of water in the desert. Shivers traveled up her arms, and she just sat, her breath settling to a bearable volume. She left her hands in the dirt, on occasion feeling a wiggle or two beneath her fingers.

  It had never been this bad before. It felt like a virus, infecting anything in its path. She pulled her hands out of the ground, the summer day wrapping around them, and brushed the dirt off on her shorts. Looking at the black line under each fingernail she took one breath after another, closing the door on the multiplying thoughts, blocking them for another day, another moment with more time.

  “Hey! What happened?” Beth came up to her, her gaze landing on Jess’s hands.

  “Just lost my balance.” Jess plastered on the brightest smile she could as she held on to the feeling of the dirt below her fingers. “I’m fine.”

  Nora

  NORA WAS MADE of sugar. There was sugar in her hair, down her lungs, and if she didn’t take off her gloves before scratching her face there would be sugar in her eyes . . . again. But on the plus side, the baby flans looked adorable in their tiny aluminum cups as she packed them up for tomorrow. God bless desserts that could be made in advance.

  After a quick dusting to remove any clinging sugar, she released Hector from the front of the house duties, to which he replied, “Gracias a Dios,” before disappearing in the back. Hector despised working in the front of the house, but Nora needed the time to finish off her work and maybe even daydream a little.

  Since her chance meeting with Cassie and her continued conversation with Yan, Nora was spending most of her evenings looking up possible culinary schools. She researched programs, alumni, classes, and even took virtual trips of the campus until she could close her eyes and imagine herself walking down the streets on the way to a class or sipping café at the corner bistro as she strategized how to take her gelato to the next level.

  What at first was a fanciful thought became an actual “why not?” that carried Nora through long days at La Islita.

  After wiping down the counter she took out one of her old recipe notebooks, looking through each of them searching for something for La Islita’s fall dessert menu.

  Fall.

  The fact that the summer had flown by in a flurry of coffee grinds and mountains of sugar should’ve saddened her more. Instead Nora wished time would move quicker, counting down the days until the program brochures she’d requested from the culinary schools arrived. And then, she’d told herself, she’d sit down and talk to her mother about her new ideas. She had finally stopped ignoring Nora and had even sweetly run her hands through Nora’s bright-pink hair one time. Nora swore she saw the corners of her mouth tilt up in a smile, though it was gone in a second.

  But it was enough to see that her mother could change, that the little dreams that now danced along in Nora’s mind weren’t foolish at all.

  She flipped a page, landing on a recipe she’d jotted down but never tried: mallorcas. Bread always made Nora nervous; it was fickle and did what it wanted, which was always the opposite of what Nora needed. But today was different. When she saw the recipe she didn’t see the challenges behind it, only the possibilities. Current Nora (even with her new pink hair) had a hard time with bread, but the Nora who went to the Culinary Institute in California or studied bread making in Paris? That Nora would be up for the challenge.

  She toyed with the edges of her notebook when her mother rushed in.

  “Baby!” Her mom ran toward her, grabbing both her hands; there were tears in her eyes.

  “Did someone die?” Nora asked.

  “¿Qué?” Her mother stopped, and Nora pointed to
her tears, making her mother laugh. “No, no. I’m just so happy. Ven.”

  She pulled Nora to the back, yelling at Hector to take over in the front. He gave Nora a pleading look, but all she could do was shrug as she was taken back to the closet-size office they used for calls and any private business stuff.

  “Mi amor, you are not going to believe it.” Her mother was bursting out of her skin, still holding Nora’s hand.

  “What happened? What’s wrong?” Nora’s body felt alert now, waiting.

  Whatever it was, her mother couldn’t get to it fast enough. “Niña, we got it! We got it!”

  “Got what? What are you talking about?”

  Her mother pulled her into a hug, but her body rebelled, and she tugged at her mother until she could look her in the eye. “Mami, what is happening?”

  Her mother took a deep breath. “We got the place! We got Rogelio’s!” Her mother devolved into a series of whoops and jumps, not noticing that Nora’s face did not hold the same merriment.

  Nora’s mind struggled for words. What did she mean, they got Rogelio’s? She didn’t know they put an offer on it in the first place. Hadn’t they discussed this?

  “But we can’t afford it.”

  “I’ve been doing some work,” her mother said. “Talking to other businesses and doing research.”

  “What does that mean?”

  What did any of this mean?

  “I knew they wouldn’t take my offer seriously unless, like you said, we had the budget. So I got us a loan and made a proposal.”

  Nora’s head was swimming. Was she dreaming? She must be dreaming.

  “Ay, nena, you would’ve been so proud of me. I talked about our place in the community and how we were a cultural asset and they needed to preserve the spirit of the neighborhood.” Her mother started to do a little dance as she told her story. “Then I channeled you and showed them the numbers. What we make, how the expansion will bring more revenue. It was like art, mi amor.”