Be with her.
Chapter 29
Freeway
(Selah)
After that night, Javier and I spent whatever free time we could manage together, but our school days remained the same. Izzy brought us coffee, we chatted during lunch, and then parted ways at the end of the day. We did our best to keep my godparents and his mom out of it. Neither one of us wanted to cross that bridge.
Today was Saturday and he had asked me to meet him at a nameless street corner. Javi took me plenty of random places so I never thought twice.
The streets intersected at a freeway overpass. The walkway had a metal dome over it and was wide enough for five people to stand side by side. I knew why they designed it that way. To keep people in. It was a unique location choice considering the implication, even for Javi. Or more so
especially
for Javi.
Hands covered my eyes from behind and I smiled. I could smell his clean boy scent immediately and sensed from the sound of his breathing that he had been running.
"When are you going to let me drive you?" I asked.
"Never," he replied.
Stubborn. He was so stubborn. He grabbed my hand and walked me over to the center of the overpass. A wide ledge ran along each side, the original barrier preventing people from "falling" before they added the chain-link dome. He lifted me up and we both took a seat. I placed my fingers through the holes and clenched tightly. The cars raced by underneath us, their headlights a dim glow against the beacon of late afternoon sun.
"So what are we doing tonight?" I asked.
"Watching the sunset," he replied.
Simple. I liked simple. The cars pushed the air around us and my hair blustered against the gusts.
"Have you heard from your dad?" he asked.
My hand, without my permission, moved to the pocket of my jacket. He had written me again today.
"You have it with you?" he continued.
"I haven't read it, Javi. I haven't read any of them since that last one. I don't want to be disappointed."
"I can read it for you. Screen it for the bad, and share the good."
I glanced at him, my fingers playing with the folded envelope. "Why do you want to read it so bad?" I asked.
"Curiosity, I guess. I want to know what a father says to their child thousands of miles away. And what's so important that has him writing every week instead of coming home."
I pulled the letter out from my pocket and traced the seal. "I'm afraid it will only be bad news. If it's so often, it could only be bad."
"Or, it could be good news. Maybe he's been trying to reach you," he said.
"He could've called my godparents," I replied.
"Maybe it was personal."
"Pfft. We don't have anything personal to share." I tapped the envelope against the edge of my fingertips. My heart contemplated ripping it into pieces and sprinkling it over the cars, but my mind, more rational, feared that reading it was necessary.
I held the letter out to Javier and let him take it. At least he could read it for me and lessen the pain.
Hopefully.
He took the letter and opened it. Pulling out two sheets of handwritten notes, I watched his lips move as his eyes read.
The edge of my skirt kept blowing up, and I pinched its hem to keep it down, tucking the excess under my shoe.
"Is it bad? What does it say?" I asked.
He kept reading but eyed me from the side. "For someone who doesn't care, you're awfully curious."
"I didn't say I didn't care. I said I didn't want it to be bad. I didn't want to be hurt."
Javier finished reading and then placed the letter back in its envelope. "Your birthday is on New Year's Eve?" he asked.
"How did you—" I snatched the letter back from his hand and read it myself. When I was done, I ripped it in several pieces and tossed it over the edge. The pieces blew up into the sky as the air rushed up from underneath. They fell behind and around me. I couldn't get rid of him.
"That's only a few days away. When were you going to tell me?" he asked.
"I wasn't. Birthdays mean nothing to me. Well, they used to, but I haven't celebrated mine since I was ten."
"So you don't have any plans?"
"Nope," I replied.
"Well, you should at least let me kiss you at midnight."
At that I smiled. Ever since Cinderella we seemed to never have enough time for kissing. I thought we'd eventually get bored, but somehow each time was better than the last.
"Fine," I replied. "You can kiss me."
"Good," he said.
We held hands and leaned our heads against one another as the sun set in the distance. I didn't think a freeway would be an ideal place to watch the sunset, but the dimming light made the headlights glow brighter and the rushing air brought its own sense of peace.
"Question," Javier said as he stroked my palm.
"Answer," I replied.
"Have you ever told your dad how you feel?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, have you ever told him that you're angry?" he asked.
"I've never had the chance."
Javier grabbed my chin and kissed me briefly before standing and lifting me up with him.
"I think you should tell him," he said.
"Okay, but he's not here and just because he said he was coming doesn't—" He placed his hand over my mouth and smiled.
"Tell him now," he said.
I stood there, confused. We were alone on a bridge, cars traveling beneath us and he wanted me to do what exactly?
Javier grabbed my hand and laced my fingers through the metal links. "Just because he can't hear doesn't mean it won't help."
The sky held a soft glow, but the tip of the sun had completely disappeared. "Javi, I don't think talking out loud to no one in particular will make me feel any better."
"Have you ever tried?" he asked. "Tell him. It can't hurt."
Air continued to race through my hair and the buzz of lights blurred my vision.
"Tell him," he repeated. His voice was encouraging, not threatening. He placed his hand on my back and pushed me forward.
I moved closer to the fence and thought about my father and everything we had been through. I rubbed my face, the tip of my thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of my nose. Javier pulled my arms away from my body and lifted them up in surrender. He continued to hold me lightly and brought his mouth to the edge of my ear.
He whispered, "Tell him" once more.
Shivering, I took a deep breath and uttered the smallest of words, "I hate you."
"Say it again, louder," he replied. Pulling my arms open wide, I felt an atmosphere of freedom. No one was here to stop me. No one was here to condemn me. Berate me. Judge me. Maybe I did need this.
"I hate you," I said once more. The power in my voice stronger.
"Come on, Sey, let it out. Let it go." Javier dropped his hands from my arms and stepped back, giving me space.
I kept my arms up in surrender for just a moment more and then dropped them. My hands trailed up along the metal links of the dome and I wrapped my fingers in them just above my head. My hair went wild and I could feel my skin brighten with emotion. The long skirt I wore thrashed against my legs.
"Let it go," he whispered one last time.
"I HATE YOU!" I screamed, the words flying out like the crack of lightning.
"I. HATE. YOU!" I said, again and again. Standing on my tiptoes, I repeated the words four or five times. And then I flattened my feet and pulled back, dropping my hands to my side.
I turned toward Javier, my eyes round and awake.
"Who, Selah? Who do you hate?" He pestered me further. I didn't know if I could say this. Out loud, it felt wrong.
"Him. I hate him," I replied, my eyes softening.
"Who?"
"My father. I hate my father." I lost an unexpected tear or two and then wiped my face. An ambulance wailed in the distance and I looked up, fearing they were coming for me. My eyes caught Javier's and his head tilted to the side as he offered me his hand. I grabbed it and found peace in his arms.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Better and worse," I replied.
"How so?"
"Just because I hate him doesn't mean I don't want him to come back. I still do. Very much." I felt caged with these emotions. It'd be easier if I could just let him go.
"Well, then we should hope."
"Hope for what?" I asked.
"That what he said in the letter is true. That he'll be here January 1
st
to celebrate your 18
th
birthday."
I squeezed Javier, not wanting to allow myself the vulnerability of hoping, but not being able to prevent it either.
"He's lied all the previous times," I replied.
"There's a first time for everything," said Javier. He ran his fingers down my back and played with the tips of my curls.
"Question," he asked.
"Answer," I replied.
"What do you want to do for your birthday? Besides kiss me."
I smiled at his words and then kissed him on the cheek. We jumped down from the ledge and began to walk home, my heart feeling lighter than it had before I came.
"Anything," I replied.
Javier nodded and tucked my head underneath his chin. We walked arm in arm, discussing my options for turning eighteen. And for once, I let myself believe that my father was coming home. That in a few days’ time I would see his face and everything would be all right.
Everything would be okay.
Chapter 30
Selah's Birthday
(Javier)
There were only five more months of high school to survive, and for once I wasn't looking forward to it ending. Life had been quiet and I was beginning to think my entire past—the drama, the scars—was all in my head. An imaginary story that left when I decided to no longer believe in imaginary friends.
Who knew a girl could change everything. A girl with her own pain. Her own loss. Her own anger.
I had thought about reaching out to her father, ensuring that he was, in fact, coming tomorrow, but boundaries still existed between us. And this wasn't one I was ready to cross. My mind, however, frequently thought of the other ones.
Boundaries.
Crossing.
Us.
Tonight we were celebrating her 18
th
birthday. Her godparents, in true form, were out for the evening doing their own thing. They had never celebrated with her, and I often wondered why her parents left her in their care. There had to have been a better choice. The fact that she would be here, with me, proved otherwise.
The days had turned into weeks and the weeks into moments. Moments of getting to know each other better. As Selah got more comfortable, she asked more questions. About the suicide and my past with Nathan. My mother and her struggle with single parenting. How Izzy found me in the bathroom—passed out and naked. And then again with a rope around my neck, tied to a shower rod.
I answered everything she presented—the painful ones, the embarrassing ones, the personal ones—and she did the same. The more we shared, the more we smiled and the more hurt we shed from our pasts. We were healing. Some things would be there forever—my scars, her need for acceptance, my fear of dark enclosed rooms, the loss of her mother. No matter how hard either of us tried, we couldn't erase the past, but we could build upon it.
The apartment had been cleaned from top to bottom, and Gio sat on the couch waiting for Selah's cake to cool so we could frost it. Gianna had been better too. Or at least I figured she was. Gio still spent the night when she had "company" in her bed or came home drunk and high. Both of which were only marginally disappointing. There was consistent food on the table and a paid electric bill. The basics for survival.
Gio jumped and ran into the kitchen. Vanilla coated the air as the timer buzzed, signaling the cake was done. He grabbed the frosting from the fridge and a butter knife from the drawer. I stood at the entrance and watched. The cake was a little crooked and the frosting, which was supposed to be a nice pink, turned out electric orange. We added too much food coloring and then tried to lighten it and everything got worse.
"Are you sure she's going to like it? I mean it may not even taste good. It's not going to look pretty either," I said as I assisted Gio at the table with the cake supplies.
He bounced in his seat and licked the edge of the frosting bowl. Smiling, he gave me two thumbs up and carried on with the task at hand.
"I hope you're right. I just want this to be special. I want her to be happy," I said. My hands rubbed the back of my head. I walked back into the kitchen and looked out the window. Then I opened the fridge and stared at its contents. Moving to the cabinets I searched for something, but I didn't know what. I shut them and then went to the sink. I turned on the water and watched it go down the drain. I counted to five. Then I walked back to the window. The sun was out and the clouds were smiling.