I hope I’m able to make new friends in my new school; senior year starts in less than two weeks, and I’ve promised myself to try to be more social than I was in New York. It’s the least I can do.
I close my eyes and, for an instant, I think I am dreaming. I could swear I’m half-awake in a tent outside of Barcelona. I am beyond tired from resisting sleep these past few days, and I know I’ll pass out on the long flight ahead of me—thank God, because it will be full of people dealing with emotions, and I never handle those well when I’m awake; too much tension and anxiety. I can’t believe some people actually fly under so much fear.
“Livia?” Uncle Henry calls me back to reality. “Your mother asked me to let you know she’ll be at the gate waiting for you.”
I nod absently. “Okay.”
My mom and the boys left the house earlier to take our dog, Bento, to get set up for the trip. There was some arranging to do before they could take him to the airport. If you’re going to take a Bernese Mountain Dog onto a plane, there are definitely preparations to be made. He is huge, so I’m sure he will appreciate all the space he’ll have in the new house. Not that our condo was small, but our new house will be much bigger, and Bento will have an enormous backyard to run and exhaust himself in.
We arrive at the airport before my daydreams end, and Uncle Henry hands me my suitcase. I only have one since most of my family’s possessions were sent ahead of us about a week ago.
“Have a safe flight, Livia,” my uncle says. “I hope you enjoy the Puget Sound.”
“We’ll miss you.”
“I’ll visit for the holidays.” He hugs me tight, and then gives me one of those meaningful looks, eye-to-eye. “Livia, call me if anything new comes up, or if you need to talk. Please, be careful.” He kisses my forehead and walks back to the car.
As soon as I get to the gate, I hear one of my little brothers. “Livia! Over here, we’re over here!”
“Yes, Gabe, you don’t have to yell.” I could feel his excitement even before I spotted him, but I also felt Ian’s emotions, and he is not as happy as Gabe. In fact, he is not excited at all. His shiny green eyes are dull today—eyes are the first to express how we feel within. The eyes never lie.
“Hey little man, what’s the matter?” I muss his perfectly combed blond hair when I reach them. “Aren’t you excited about flying?”
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” he mutters. “I want to go back home and play with my toys and eat lunch with Annette.”
Ian’s sadness touches deep inside of me. Kids’ emotions are so pure and naive. Their rawness enables them to have a more profound effect on me.
“You’ll be able to play with your toys as soon as we get to our new house,” I assure him. “They’re already there in your new bedroom, waiting for you.”
“Yeah, but Annette won’t be there.”
“I know, Ian, but she needs to stay here with her parents and her family. They need her too. Maybe she’ll come and visit one day.” I try to comfort him, but the pain in his eyes doesn’t change.
I sit down next to Mom, who is resting on a bench not far from where my brothers were watching out for me. She’s holding a Time magazine, her forehead scrunched up. She always gets frustrated when she reads world news.
“Is the flight on schedule?” I ask. “I can’t wait to get in this plane and sleep.”
She folds the magazine on her lap and gives me a look. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“I was trying to make sure I’d be sleepy for the trip. I don’t want to risk dealing with people’s problems.” I wish they had an off button. “It’s a long flight.”
Mom’s lips curl down on the side, and her eyes show pity. She doesn’t like that I need to seclude myself from the world. She wishes we could find a way to block all of this empathy that I can feel for others, but she knows it’s not possible. That sense of feeling defeated is always the worst.
When we finally board the plane, we find our seats and settle ourselves down. Gabe sits next to me and asks for the window seat, of course.
“I want to see everything get really small as we climb up in the sky!” he announces.
I think he is going to pass out in no time. He is running on adrenaline, and that’s going to wear him out.
And mercifully, as the airplane is taking off, I drift off to sleep.
2 Adam
“No, Lindsay!” I yell, pushing her off me. “How many times do I have to tell you? I am not interested in you or whatever you have to offer. Get off my bed!”
“Your body says otherwise,” she says, pointing at my crotch.
“You know my little brother or sister could walk in here any second.” I’m practically snarling, but I’m too sick and tired of her to bother with it. “Not to mention my mom!”
“Your dad is at work, and your mom went to Seattle with the rest of your family,” she counters. “We’re alone.” She moves closer until she is on top of me, and I’m trapped.
My bedroom is on the first floor and has French doors leading to the patio. I have access in and out without having to use the front door. That’s how Lindsay gets in. I’ve given in to her sneakiness once or twice, but I won’t let it happen again, because if I keep leading her on, she’ll never leave me alone. If only I could remember to lock the damn door.
“Come on, Lindsay, get off me! Don’t you have any self-respect?” I glare at her in disgust, and that gets it into her head.
She slowly moves away. “You are such a jerk, Adam. I’m here trying to save our relationship—our love—and you’re treating me like crap.”
Tears slip down her cheeks, and I would feel sorry for her if I didn’t know any better. But this is Lindsay, and she plays with my head. She knows how to manipulate a situation.
“What love?” I ask. “I’ve never said I love you, and our relationship was done three months ago. It sort of ended when you decided to mess around with my best friend.”
I try to poke where it hurts. I really couldn’t care less who she’s been with, but if I have to play the victim for her to leave, I will.
“You want me to leave? Because once I walk out of that door, I’m not coming back. Ever!”
I walk up to her, closing the distance between us. I wipe her tears away. “That’s exactly what I want you to do, Lindsay.”
I drop my hands from her face and push the patio door open, gesturing for her to leave. I wait until she turns around and stomps her way out of my bedroom and, hopefully, out of my life.
I broke up with Lindsay three months ago. It would’ve lasted longer if she wasn’t so suffocating. She always tried to control my life and dictate who I should or shouldn’t hang out with. She never took it well when I disagreed with her or went my own way. It’s no surprise that she didn’t take the breakup very well, either.
The first week we broke up, she showed up in my bedroom at one in the morning, crying and begging me to take her back. She said we were the golden couple and everyone looked up to us. She has always cared too much about what people think of her, and she’d do anything to keep her popularity. I’ve told her many times that our relationship is over and done, she just doesn’t seem to get it.