Resilient (2 page)

“Honestly, I haven’t been paying attention to my abilities. Since I was around friends the entire summer, I didn’t put them to the test. It was, really, a nice break.” 

I know why he’s so worried. He’s always worried, afraid someone will find out I’m different and use me as lab rat.  

“Uncle?” I persist when he stays silent. 

He sighs and stares over the steering wheel. “Same as always, Livia, you know you can’t risk exposing yourself—”.

“Yeah I know. I’ll be careful,” It is almost second nature for me to give this response. 

We merge onto I-495, heading east to the airport. Uncle Henry hasn’t mentioned anything new in the search for my biological parents, even though he promised to make it his priority two months ago.

“So, I was wondering if you had done any—”

“Your dad and I are looking,” he snaps, “but the more we look, the less hope I have. I really think they’re not around anymore, Livia, and when you ask too often, you upset your mother. You already have two parents who love you, and I believe it’s time you let this rest.”

“‘All men by nature desire knowledge’,” I challenge.

“Aristotle,” he says without missing a beat.

I nod. 

My dad and I have this thing we call quote of the day. We’ve been doing it since I was eight. We say a quote that best describes something that happened that day and we have to guess who it’s from. Uncle Henry and mom participate every now and then, and ever since my memory developed, I’ve become pretty good at it. 

For a while now, I’ve desired the knowledge of who my biological parents are. I was adopted when I was two days old. Someone dropped me off at St. Cecilia's Church and Convent of New York with instructions to contact Mrs. Berwick, who is my mother today. She and Dad took me in, and I’m very glad that they did. They say it was the best gift they ever got. 

For some reason, whoever left me at the convent wanted the Berwick couple to have me, and we have no idea who this person might be—but I do know one thing: he or she holds all the answers I seek.

As Uncle Henry drives me to JFK, I observe the city one last time, and wish it were easier for me to be around people. If that were the case, I could stay in New York and I wouldn’t need to leave the people I love behind. Those few people include my friends Alyssa and John, who visited me last night to say goodbye. 

We have lived in the same building since we were little kids, and we went to school together. We spent the summers together. We went to Italy and Spain together. Uncle Henry has an apartment in a little town in Italy called Parma, and he helped us convince our parents the trip would help us perceive the world with new eyes. 

“It’s always good to be cultured and know what’s out there,” he said. As it turned out, we traveled for two months and we studied the Italian language and culture—with my memory, I had to pretend I was less fluent than I’d really become. Then, we went backpacking in Spain, where I had an incredible time and learned yet another language. 

Alyssa, John, and I made memories that I hope will tide me over until I can see them again. After all, I’m already missing Alyssa’s loud laugh and John’s stupid jokes. 

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.

“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.

It’s almost noon now. I slept all morning. I must have been exhausted. I usually wake up early. I like to go for a run before school, even though we are on summer break, I’ve kept my habits. 

The past couple of weeks, I’ve been going to sleep late. When I’m not working, or out with the guys, I’m training Aphrodite, my horse. Maybe I should call her my ex-horse. Mom sold her to our super-rich new neighbors who are moving here from New York City. Dad knew them from medical school but lost contact right after they graduated. Now, they’ve bought twenty-five acres of land from my family. They built a huge house on it and a nice horse barn. Apparently, the barn’s a surprise for their daughter.

We breed horses and they’ve bought two from us—the last two horses we bred, actually. Since I have been training Aphrodite for a while now, I told Mr. Berwick, our new neighbor, that I would finish her training myself.

My grandpa taught me how to train horses. He was a professional and had his own training facility. He was one of the best in the West, and gained his reputation by training horses for the Kentucky Derby and other races. Unfortunately, Grandpa had a heart attack and passed away four years ago. In her grief and determination to uphold his legacy, Mom decided to keep his horses and breed them. Now, she is tired of it. 

I’m leaving for college soon, and she doesn’t want to keep up the training without me. Dad is too busy at the hospital and he can’t help, nor would he want to. If there’s a part of me that doesn’t care about going to college, this is why.

After taking a brief shower, I stop by the kitchen before heading outside. As I step into the room, I see Dad searching the fridge, and I freeze. 

What is he doing home? 

In any case, he hasn’t noticed me, and I might still be able to sneak out before he sees me. 

“Adam?” he calls. 

I take a deep breath and turn to face him.

“Hey, Dad,” I give a flat smile. “I thought you were at work.”

“My afternoon surgery was canceled, so I thought it would be nice to surprise your mom by coming home for lunch, but I guess I should have called. There’s nothing to eat, and she’s not here.”

He says it half-joking, but is hoping I’ll sit down with him. 

“She went to Seattle,” I say, edging toward the patio door.

“Where are you headed?” 

“I gotta meet Alo at the barn. I’m running late.” I watch as Dad slightly shakes his head. I feel like rolling my eyes or lashing out in defense of my work, but that would get me in trouble. I just swallow the knot in my throat and keep quiet. 

“Why don’t you volunteer at the hospital today?” he says. He just doesn’t know when to quit. “I’m sure they could use your help, you know—do something more productive for your future. The hours you put in volunteering at the hospital will help with your application to medical school.”

“I’ve been working there four days a week,” I press. “I do need a break sometimes.” 

Dad nods. The doorknob burns in my hand, wanting me to turn it, but I know he isn’t done yet. 

“You know, life won’t give you much free time once you get into school. You’ll need to learn how to use your time wisely.” 

I use all my strength to return his smile. “Yeah, but right now, I’m not in school. So, if you don’t mind, I am heading out.” 

He looks at me carefully for a moment and then nods again. “Enjoy your afternoon, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

I finally open the door and step outside. I breathe deep and count to ten until my fist loosens up. That’s the thing with Dad: nothing is ever in my favor around him.

He’s always complaining about how much time I dedicate to the horses, and he thinks I should be studying and preparing to get into college. I wonder how far away from him I should be when I get the nerve to tell him medical school is not for me. 

I walk into the barn and find Alo saddling Sicilian. Alo is our professional horse trainer, and he is currently taking the time to teach me some tricks. I’ve known Alo for years. He used to work with my grandpa, and now he has his own training facility. Mom has been paying him to train our last few colts. I have been helping and learning at the same time when I work alongside him, and he pretty much lets me train Aphrodite on my own. I’ve grown so attached to her, after all; interacting with her comes to me so easily.