Melted & Shattered (20 page)

“Are you gonna do it?”

I shrugged. “It
’s not like I can’t afford it, and I just feel like I need to get outta here for a while. I can’t keep running on the hamster wheel here.”

“You’d leave me to study
aboard?”

“I’m not leaving you
. It’s one semester in Mexico, and it’s northern Mexico. I’ll pay for a plane ticket for you to visit.”

“Shit, girl. This is serious. Are you sure you need to go all the way to Mexico? What about the kitchen?
You barely started back.”

“The kitchen will be here when I
return. It’s not as if Applebee’s is going to close down or stop serving riblets just cuz I’m gone. And you know they’ll take me back when I come home. I’ve got all this money J still won’t admit he put in my back account, so I might as well use it to distract me from his ass.”

“Ah, yeah, about that ass.” I shot Chris a look. She was NOT about to comment on his ass that was undoubtedly up in the air when she walked in
. She held her hands up. “Just sayin’.”

I threw a couch pillow at her.

“So when would you leave?”

“Soon, I think. It’s for the fall semester
, and it starts in three weeks, but I’d need to be there in less than two.”

“Shit, girl. Less than t
wo weeks?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I’ll miss the fuck outta you, but if you promise you're coming back at the end of the semester—well, then I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot. I was kinda scared to show this to you. That you’d freak out
, you know.”

“Nah. I get it. You got
ta live life. We all do.”

I contempla
ted probing her for where she’d been, but decided to drop it and finish getting dressed instead. I needed a few more hours of sleep, and I intended to do so in my bed. Since I didn’t have my car, Chris drove me home, making me promise to call her later that night so we could talk about the details of my trip. I would’ve agreed to anything at that point, I was so exhausted. Physically, emotionally, mentally, and most of all, my heart needed a rest. This was the start of a five month rest I hoped to give my heart from J, my life, and the bullshit it entailed.

I fell into bed as soon as I got home, and maybe it was my imagination, but I could've sworn it smelled like J. I really needed to get away...

Chapter 14

I went to County the next
week. I knew Fernie was finally leaving. They’d held him in lock up for three months, dicking around with his deportation. I needed to let him know I’d be close to his city. I needed him to know I would always be there for him.

He was sadder th
an the last time I’d been there, which I didn’t think was possible. I gave him Genesis’ most recent letter, and he gave me one of his own to give her. I told him about my plan to study abroad.

“
It’s a university in Monterrey. That’s close to Sabinas, right?” I asked him.

“Yeah. It’s real close. Like, an hour away maybe.”

“So I can come visit you?” I hoped this would perk him up.

“My abuelita’s address and phone number are in the letter. I didn’t seal it. You’ll open it anyway
, so just get the information off of it,” he said emotionlessly. “You can call me when you get to Monterrey.” Who was I kidding in thinking I’d perk him up?

I heaved a breath, fighting tears, and forcing myself to be strong for Fernie. “I’ll call. Fernie, it doesn’t matter if I’m in Missouri, Monterrey, or the other side of the world, I’ll always be here for you. I’d take a bullet again for you. I’d take a million. That doesn’t end just cuz you’re leaving the states. My love for you is unconditional.” I didn’t realize it until that moment. My love for all the teens was unconditional. There were no strings attached
to it. It wasn’t the way my mother loved. I didn’t know there was a love this pure and absolute, or that I was capable of giving it to another human being. I loved J. Was it unconditional? Fuck, that’d be one to ponder later. In that moment, all I knew was that I’d take a bullet for any one of my teens, and I wasn’t sure when that devotion happened. It snuck up on me I guess.

“Fuck, Elle,” Fernie said, wiping his eyes.

“It’s OK, I won’t tell.” I walked around the table and sat next to Fernie, who promptly fell into my arms and sobbed. Fuck. That was all it took to send me over the edge. I tried to keep my own tears as subdued as possible, while Fernie’s body shook against mine. I let silent tears traverse a path down my cheeks, so Fernie could wail. The pain in my heart was different from when J left. I was a lion, and my cub was leaving. Is this the way a mother was supposed to feel about her own child? If so, why didn’t my mother love me like this? I guess it didn’t matter. My love for Fernie and all my cubs was—well, it just was.

“I got you, Fernie. Always,” I told him, rubbing his back. I held him for a few more minutes until his quaking body stilled, and his tears slowly dried up.

Pulling back, he wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. I pulled a fast food napkin out of my coat pocket and passed it to him. I'd taken to carrying them lately as someone always seemed to be crying, sadly, mostly me.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and wiped his nose.

There wasn’t much left to say after that. I promised him I’d call when I arrived in Monterrey, and that I’d try to see him before my classes started.

“You’ll give my letter to Genesis?”

“Of course," I told him.

I was almost out the door when he called
out my name. I inhaled a breath, bracing myself, as I was on the verge of falling apart, and turned to him.

“Thanks. For everything.”

I shut my eyes, willing the tears to hold off until I got in my car. I shook my head, acknowledging his gratitude. “Anytime,” I whispered, barely able to get that one word out.

I walked out of County and sprinted to my car. I was sobbing before I made it inside.
Once inside, though, I wailed, clutching my chest, feeling my heart pound against my hand. Fuck. Why was this so hard? I laid my head on the steering wheel and let the tears fall. I stopped fighting, unsure how much more loss my heart could handle.

An hour later, I put the Monte in DRIVE and pulled
away. I texted José to meet me at my house. His Yukon was there when I arrived, and he was out of it before I could turn my car off, probably unsure why I’d asked him to my apartment, especially after our awkward Saturday night at Aquario. I got out of my car, gripping Fernie’s letter, face a mess.

“
Cielito
,” he said, running over to me. I held out my hand, knowing I couldn’t be touched. I feared he would touch me, and I'd crumble in his arms. Not only did I not want to crumble in anyone’s arms, especially José’s, I knew that would just lead to tears, and I had a feeling what I was about to do was going to bring them on anyway. The least I could do was get my ass in the apartment first. I motioned for José to follow me, noticing his scraped up face, but unable to muster the energy to care enough to ask who he rumbled with. He'd tell me if he wanted to. If not, I had other things to deal with, more specifically, a teenage love letter that I was sure was going to shatter me. I shouldn't read it, I knew it, but was past the point of no return. I'd read too many letters already. I had to read this final one, even if it killed me inside.

We walked in the door, and I mumbled for him to have a seat on the couch. I grabbed
my weed box and rolled a blunt, José sitting in silence, waiting for me to tell him what was going on. When the blunt was rolled, I lit it and sat on the couch next to José.

“Read it to me, please?” I asked, passing him the letter. He took it and nodded.

José’s eyes scanned over single sheet of paper. Genesis wrote long, emotional letters to Fernie. He on the other hand, in true guy fashion, was much more to the point, usually only writing half a page at most. This one was a full page, plus a little bit on the back. I sat smoking the blunt while José surveyed whatever he was about to translate.

“Elle,”
José started, but I cut him off. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and sat back down next to José.

“OK, I’m ready,” I told him.

He passed me the letter. “It’s in English, mostly.”

I looked at him confused as I took the letter out of his hand. Why would they write in English? My eyes scanned the paper.

Genny, mi amor. I don’t know
why Elle has been reading our letters and I really don’t care. She’s been good to us both so I thought I’d make it easy on her and write this in English. I love you. You know that. I’ve loved you since forever. I can’t express it as well as you can, but I know you understand that my love for you will always be. It will never die. It will never fade. You were my first love. I wanted you to be my last love. Maybe I’ll love again, pero it'll never be like you. Mi mamá says first loves are the best loves. You're the best. That’s why I keep telling you to forget me. It’s not because I don’t love you. Es el opuesto. It’s opposite. I love you so much. I want you to have someone better than me in your life. I can’t come back to los estados, the states. And you need to try and make the best life you can there. I could never provide you a life in Sabinas that would be worthy of your love. Mi abuelita has her farm, but it barely earns enough for her and Tío Oscar. Me coming back will just stretch it thinner. I’ve fucked up so many lives. I can’t bare the thought of fucking up yours. You will ALWAYS be mi amor, mi vida, mi angel. You’re beautiful and I will remember you forever. Please, for me, live the life you deserve. The one I couldn’t give you. Although I put mi abuelita’s address and phone number below, it’s mostly for Elle, who you know is reading this. You can write or call, but don’t stop your life. You are smart and maybe can get into college. The morenito president might even let you be a citizen one day. I know you have dreams. You told me them when we laid under the stars that one night. Follow those dreams and I hope they'll lead you to the life you deserve. Fuck, Genny, te amo, para siempre. Pero tienes que olvidarme.

-Fernie

José
grabbed the letter as tears fell onto it. I held the towel against my face and soaked it silently, while José sat quietly next to me. When I composed myself and looked up, he’d dabbed the letter with his shirt to dry it, folded it and put it back in the envelope for Genesis.

“You OK?” he asked.

I lit the blunt that had gone out while I was reading and nodded. I smoked half of it before I passed it. Laying my head against the back of the couch I sighed. “It’s so sad. They’re so young.”

“They are,” he said, passing me back the blunt. I waved it off and pointed to the ashtray on the coffee table.

"What does the last part say? The last lines in Spanish." José shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. "Is it that bad?" I asked.

"Do you want to cry again?"

"Fuck, I'm so tired of crying. I never cried before..." I trailed off. I couldn't say his name, the pools were already forming in my eyes.

"It's the same stuff Fernie said in English, just in Spanish." José might have been placating me, but I appreciated it. Whatever it said, I had a feeling it would be too much for me to bear. It wasn't the only thing I didn't understand though.

“What’s
morenito
?”

“I thought that might be one
other part you didn’t get. It’s a word for black people. It’s common, but not, uh, PC I guess you might say. It’s just how people call an African American in Spanish. Sometimes we use it even to refer to dark skinned Latinos. He’s talking about Obama. The DREAM Act.”

I’d read about that when Fernie first got locked up and I was desperate to fix everything.

“You think it’ll happen?”

José
shrugged. “
Solo dios sabe
.” I raised my eyebrows at him, indicating I was unfamiliar with that phrase. “Only God knows.”

“Do you believe in
God?” I asked him.

“We’re not going there,
cielito
. You’re in no state to be talking about God. What do you want me to do? Stay? Go?”

"
You wanna talk about your face?"

"Nope."
He was resolute in his answer.

I was curled up on my side of the couch, head against the back cushion. I didn’t know what I wanted from him. I wanted J, and
José could easily substitute, but that was a bad idea on so many levels. I could be selfish and ask him to stay, to hold me, to let me cry on his shoulder, but I wasn’t stupid. I’d caught José’s growing feelings for me. I’d be a bitch if I let him do that, knowing my heart belonged to another man. I had to let him go, beat up face an all.

“I think I’m ready to be alone. Thanks,
José. For everything.” He just nodded and let himself out, while I smoked the rest of the blunt, sunk further into the couch, and cried. When the blunt was gone and I was out of tears, I fell into an uneasy slumber plagued with nightmares of my past, present, and a future without J all mixed together.

I awoke
screaming, knowing I had to leave. I might be in Mexico when J returned, but I couldn’t stay in Missouri any longer. It was masochistic to even try.

******

Over the next week, I was tasked with telling the people I loved, and those I only sort of liked, that I was leaving. My parents surprisingly were happy for me. I fibbed and told them I’d received a grant to study in Monterrey. I avoided the word scholarship, as that was a lie. J dumping money in my bank account could be considered a grant. Right? They didn’t ask about my apartment. Thankfully. I didn’t have a lie for that one, and I was doing good with being honest. Mostly. No more pants on fire.

I’m pretty sure my mom was on the phone
, bragging with her friends and other relatives, the moment I left. For years, I was the black sheep of the family. Although she never missed an opportunity to bring up my sister’s scholarships, the fact that she never came home to visit sort of negated that piece of “pride” and it ended up being family gossip. I’m sure my entire family would know I was studying abroad by the end of the day. They would definitely know I’d “earned” the opportunity and wasn’t paying.

My mother
didn’t know anything about my life, or better, she knew what I told her and what she chose to believe: I worked in a kitchen to pay for college and I didn’t have time for boyfriends. That about summed it up for my life in her mind. Details? Nah. She didn’t know what I did in my free time, and she never cared. Although she knew about my teenage drug use, I think she convinced herself that it was in the past since I managed not to get pregnant, arrested, or be homeless on the streets. She’d been to my apartment a few times. Of course, all contraband was hidden for those occasions, and as long as things looked good on the outside, my mom was happy. It was appearances that mattered to her. Even if I was dying on the inside, doing it with a smile would make her plenty happy, and keep her from asking too many questions.

Chris already knew, but I convinced her to be at
with me when I told Aaron. She knew it wouldn’t be a pretty sight, so I was grateful when she agreed. Monday night, we all hung out at her place. I waited until Aaron was good and high before I dropped the bomb. I also didn’t give much warning. I was going with the
rip the
Band-Aid off
method.

We were chatting about something utterly random, and I took a pause in the conversation to tell Aaron, “I’m moving to Mexico in a week to study abroad for the fall semester.”