It’s so easy to say, yet so difficult to express through actions.
We tend to be selfish by nature, some more than others. We want what is best for us and what benefits us. We’ve been taught to put ourselves before others, and told that if we don’t love ourselves, we can’t love someone else. And in that respect, it can become true: how much you love yourself can be reflected in your ability to love others. However, there are times when we have to put aside what we want for ourselves for the welfare of the other person. To me that is true love.
I know what Ares needs and what he really wants for his future, and I’m supporting him 100 percent. But I can’t deny that I’m terrified at the idea of separating, of losing him. Just imagining it makes my chest tighten and my stomach feel funny, but I love him, and because I love him, I have to put aside what I feel for him, for his happiness.
How fucked up is love?
I stare at the letter in my hands. I’ve been accepted to the University of North Carolina on a partial scholarship to study psychology.
I’m really happy. I can’t deny it. This is what I’ve always wanted, and there shouldn’t be anything to overshadow it. The only problem is that I want to share my happiness with Ares. I know he’ll be proud of me, but I also know that this only makes it more real that we’ll be going our separate ways when this school year is over. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but I guess that’s life.
“That’s not the reaction I expected,” Dani comments, stretching out on my bed. “They accepted you, you idiot!”
“I don’t know. I still can’t believe it.”
She sits down, snatching the letter from my hand, and reads it.
“And with a partial scholarship? This is a miracle, because you don’t have any talent.” I give her a murderous look.
“I told you that winning interstate chess tournaments would do some good.”
Dani sighs. “I still don’t know how you’re so good at chess, your IQ . . .” I raise an eyebrow at her. “Is apparently good enough to get a scholarship,” she finishes. “Yay!”
I put the letter on the nightstand and get up. The sun streaming through the window falls on Rocky, who’s asleep on his back with his paws in the air and his tongue out. He’s definitely my doggy incarnation. Dani glances at him, concerned.
“Is he all right?” she asks. “He looks like he’s dead.”
“He’s fine. He has weird sleeping poses,” I answer. Dani bursts out laughing.
“Like his owner.”
Dani spent the night with me, because today is . . .
“Happy birthday to you!” my mother comes in with a tray of breakfast, smiling broadly at us. “Go back to bed, Raquel, or else breakfast in bed becomes meaningless.”
I smile at her.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I return to Dani’s side. Her black hair is a bit greasy, and her makeup is smudged. Last night we drank a little at our prebirthday sleepover, which ended with both of us crying over the Hidalgos. Me, because I got the acceptance letter and would be moving away from Ares, and her because . . . well, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong between her and Apolo. She loves him, then she doesn’t, then she wants to get over him, but she can’t. I think everyone has had a friend who has no fucking idea what she wants from a guy.
Mom puts the tray on my lap. There’s plenty of food for both of us, and a small muffin that has a lit candle on it. I blow out the candle, and they clap their hands like seals that have just eaten. I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face.
“Happy birthday, beautiful.” Mom leans over and gives me a kiss on the forehead.
“Thank you, Mom.” I start eating and offer a piece of pancake to Dani, who grimaces, and gives Mom an apologetic look.
“No offense, Rosa, but I really don’t have an appetite.”
Mom scoffs. “Too much to drink last night?”
Dani looks surprised. “How did you know?”
“This room smells like a mixture of beer and vodka.” Mom sighs. “With a touch of wine for good measure.”
Dani’s eyes widen.
“How did you know what we drank?”
Mom just shrugs, and I roll my eyes, answering her.
“Who do you think bought the alcohol, silly?”
Mom heads for the door.
“Eat and get up. Your aunts and cousins are about to arrive, and we have a lot to do before tonight’s party.”
The birthday party . . .
Although we’re not very close with the rest of the family, my mom’s sisters always come on my birthdays and bring my cousins. I get along with some of them, but there are others I can’t stand.
“Ah,” I shriek as my mother leaves the room. “I hope Aunt Carmen’s daughters don’t come. They’re unbearable.” Dani nods in agreement.
“Yeah, they’re always DM-ing me on Instagram, asking what they need for an audition for Mom’s modeling agency. They’re superannoying.”
“Come on. We better get ready.” Dani lies back down, pulling the sheet over her head. “Come on, Morticia,” I take the sheet off.
“Morticia?”
“Look in a mirror and you’ll understand.”
“Very funny.” She gets up and reluctantly walks with me to the bathroom. You haven’t passed the boundaries of trust in a friendship until you’ve been brushing your teeth in the sink while your best friend pees right next to you.
“And . . . you invited him?” she asks. I knew this question would come sooner or later.
“Of course, he’s my friend,” I answer after rinsing my mouth.
“I know, I just wanted to . . .”
“Psychologically prepare yourself to see him?”
“No, just . . .” She doesn’t finish her sentence, and I turn to look at her, still sitting on the toilet.
“We’ve had this conversation a thousand times, and I don’t understand what’s going on in your head. If you like him so much, why aren’t you with him?”
“It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not, Dani. It’s very simple: you like each other very much, and you’re happy together. Why can’t you be together?”
She runs her hands over her face. “I’m scared, Raquel.”
“Scared?” That takes me by surprise.
“What I feel for him scares me so much; I’ve never felt so vulnerable.”
Oh. My. God. Dani is the fucking female version of Ares. How did I not realize this? And what have I done to surround myself with people like this?
“Are you serious, Dani?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Are you listening to yourself? Scared? Fuck fear. You’re never going to live life to the fullest if you’re living in fear of getting hurt.”
“I’m not like you,” she admits, licking her lower lip. “You’re so strong. You rise up when something bad happens, and you smile as if life hasn’t hit you so many times. I’m not like that, Raquel. I’m a weak person hiding behind a strong facade, and you know it. I don’t get up easily. I find it hard to smile at life when something bad happens to me, that’s the kind of person I am.”
“You aren’t strong? Who beat up Rafa in second grade when he called me all sorts of names? Who stood by their mother and helped her build a prestigious modeling agency? Who juggles schoolwork and helping her mother with her business?” I shake my head. “Don’t give me that shit about you not being strong, you’re one of the strongest people I know. It’s okay to be afraid, it’s normal, but don’t let fear control your life.”
Her face lights up.
“I’d hug you, but . . .” She points to her pants over her ankles.
“Imaginary hug,” I say, slapping her forehead and leaving the bathroom. “Come on, Morti, we have work to do.”
“Stop calling me that,” she says, and I hear her flush the toilet.
“Look in the mirror.”
I laugh as I hear her squeal.
“By the nails of Christ and the flip-flops of Moses!”
I take the tray with the leftovers downstairs and find Mom in the kitchen, checking the cake in the oven. It’s the perfect moment to talk, and this conversation we’re about to have has to happen sooner or later. Especially since I’ve invited the Hidalgos to tonight’s party. Mom glances at me over her shoulder as she pours some coffee in her cup.