“Get some sleep. Rest. It’s been a hard night.”
My eyes burn from crying so much. I close them to try to sleep a little, to forget, to forgive myself.
“You’re going to fall!” a little Joshua yells at me from below as I climb a tree. I stick my tongue out.
“You’re just upset because you can’t catch me,” I say. Joshua crosses his arms.
“Of course not. Besides, we said the trees weren’t allowed, you cheater.”
“Cheater?” I throw a branch at him. He dodges it.
“Hey!” He gives me a murderous look. “Okay, truce, come down, and we’ll continue the game later.”
Carefully, I climb down the tree. When I’m standing on the ground, Joshua touches me and runs away.
“Got you! It’s your turn to catch me.”
“Hey, that’s cheating.”
He ignores me and keeps running, and I have no choice but to chase him.
A squeeze on my shoulders wakes me up, ending that pleasant dream, full of games and innocence. My mother rubs my arm and offers me a coffee with her other hand.
Caramel macchiato, my favorite.
It reminds me of Ares and our first date at the hospital. I haven’t dared to call him, to say anything to him, because I know he’ll come running, and I don’t want to ruin his New Year. I know that’s the least of it right now, but I don’t want to involve anyone else in this painful situation.
“He’s awake; his parents have just been to see him. Do you want to go in?”
My heart clenches, and my chest burns.
“Yes.”
“You can do it, Raquel.”
My hand shakes on the door handle, but I turn it, and step inside. My eyes are fixed on the floor as I close the door behind me. When I look up, I cover my mouth to stifle my sobs.
Joshua is lying on white sheets, an IV hooked up to his right arm. He looks so pale and fragile, like he could break at any moment. His honey-colored eyes meet mine and immediately fill with tears. With big steps, I approach him and hug him gently.
“You idiot! I love you very, very much.” I bury my face in his neck. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
When we separate, Joshua averts his gaze, wiping away his tears.
“I have nothing to forgive you for.”
“Joshua, I . . .”
“I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you to feel obligated to be by my side just because this happened.”
“What are you . . . ?”
“It was my decision. It has nothing to do with you or anyone else.”
I step back, staring at him, but he doesn’t look at me.
“No, you’re not going to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Push me away,” I state. “I’m not here out of obligation. I’m here because I love you, and yes, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before to try to fix things, but I had already decided to look for you before this happened, I swear.”
“I am not asking for anything from you.”
“But I want to explain, I want you to know how much I’ve missed you. How much I care about you.”
“So I won’t attempt suicide again?”
Where had that bitterness in his voice come from? That disinterest in life? Had it always been there? I remember my mother’s words: asking for help makes no sense because life has lost meaning. Maybe nothing mattered to him anymore.
I approach him.
“Yoshi.” I pause, noticing how he tenses at his nickname. “Look at me.”
He shakes his head, and I take his face in my hands. “Look at me!”
His eyes meet mine, and the emotions I see in them break my heart: despair, pain, loneliness, sadness, fear . . . lots of fear. Tears come to my eyes again.
“I know it all seems meaningless now, but you’re not alone. There are so many people who love you, and we’re here to breathe for you when you need it.” Tears roll down my cheeks, falling from my chin. “Please let us help you. I promise you this will pass, and you’ll go back to enjoying life just like that cheating kid I played with when I was little.”
Joshua’s lower lip shakes. There are tears escaping his eyes.
“I was so scared, Raquel.”
He hugs me, burying his face in my chest as he cries like a child, and I can only cry with him.
He’s going to be fine. I have no idea how to make him fall in love with life again, but I will breathe for him for as long as it takes.
FORTY-SEVEN
The Hidalgos
- ARES -
The blazing Greek sun burns my skin and forces me to hide behind sunglasses. The weather isn’t cold like back home, but it’s not hot either; it’s somewhere in the middle. I’ve been enjoying it since we arrived.
I’m lying on a chair in front of the resort’s crystal-clear heated pool. The view is relaxing. You can see the whole coastline and the beach beyond the pool. For me, Greece has always had an air of antiquity, of history, that gives you a strange feeling but in a good way.
My grandpa is lying next to me, and Claudia is standing next to him, picking up his medicines from a table under an umbrella. She’s wearing a red bathing dress that matches her hair and a see-through dress that barely covers her.
“I think I’ve had enough,” Grandpa says, grunting and starting to get up. Claudia and I move to help him, but Grandpa gently loosens my grip on his arm.
“Ares, son, I can still walk alone,” he tells me.
I raise my hands in the air.
“I got it.” I watch them cross to the glass doors, and the sound of a text notification catches my attention. I grab my phone, but there’s nothing. I haven’t heard from Raquel in hours. And shit, I’m so out of focus.
I called her to wish her happy New Year when midnight arrived in Greece, but after that I haven’t heard from her, not even when midnight arrived in North Carolina. I’ve sent her messages and I’ve called her, but there’s no answer. Is she still asleep? Even though it’s already three o’clock in the afternoon here, it’s still early in the morning there.
Another notification sounds, but my cell phone is in my hand, so I know it’s not mine. It’s Apolo’s phone on the chair next to me. He’s in the pool swimming, which has always been his thing since he was little. I stare at his phone screen, amazed at the number of notifications he’s received from Facebook. He’s never been very active on it, but the notifications aren’t stopping. I walk to the edge of the pool with a towel and his cell phone, bending down to pass them to Apolo as he emerges from the water, shaking out his hair.
“Your cell phone is going to explode,” I say. Apolo gives me a confused look.
“My cell phone?”
“Since when have you been so active on Facebook?”
“I’m not.” Apolo sits on the edge of the pool, puts the towel around his shoulders, and shakes the water off his hand before grabbing his phone. I sit next to him because I have nothing better to do now that the witch is ignoring me. Apolo moves his finger over the screen of his phone, and I see his expression of confusion growing.
“Oh shit.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask. As if my cell phone wanted to respond, the bombardment of notifications starts on mine as well. I’m about to check when Artemis materializes beside us. He doesn’t look at all cheerful, hovering over us, and he’s holding his cell phone in his hand.
“Apolo.” Artemis grunts, and I see my younger brother lower his head. “Why did you upload that picture without permission?”
I stare at both of them. “Which photo?”
“I didn’t think this would happen. I only have acquaintances on my Facebook,” Apolo explains, but I still don’t understand.
“Can someone explain to me what’s going on?”
Artemis bends and puts his phone screen in front of my face, showing me the picture we took that morning of the three of us by the pool in shorts and sunglasses, all of us shirtless. That we’re related is obvious, and I’m not ashamed to say we look great.
“Someone stole Apolo’s Facebook photo and posted it on a Facebook page called ‘Hot Guys,’” Artemis explains.