Teófila’s Guide to Saving the Sun

by Cynthia A. Rodriguez

  “You act like your dad isn’t scary as shit,” he starts. “I’m just lucky he’s always liked me.”

  “Because he has no idea what you’re really like.”

  Elijah leans over and presses a quick hard kiss on my lips. “A little mystery never hurt anyone.”

  The drive isn’t long, and I wonder how many nights Elijah has headed this way, how many good times he’s had with his friends that he kept me so separate from.

  “They all know about me?” I ask as I unbuckle my seatbelt, eyes on the house on the top of the hill. In the darkness, the yellow squares of light through the windows almost look like they’re floating.

  “The ones I’m cool with do.”

  Whatever that means.

  I’m expecting a party as we head toward the house, but it’s something else entirely. There’s alcohol, sure. And music playing low, its bass thrumming through the house.

  But no one is dancing. They’re drinking and talking and laughing. Some standing, some sitting on the couch or on chairs.

  And they all greet Elijah in some way or another; a head nod, a verbal acknowledgment. Some even clasp their hand in his and pull him close, briefly.

  “Everybody upstairs?” he asks one of the guys, who nods before turning away to talk to the girl standing next to him.

  Elijah takes my hand, holding it up as he leads me toward the stairs.

  “Where are we going?” I whisper the question, worried that I may not be cool enough for this.

  “Some of my guys are upstairs. I want to say hi, maybe smoke a little.” He peers over at me. “That okay with you?”

  I shrug, but I’ve never seen any of this up close; only ever in fiction or through word of mouth.

  “You know I’ve got you, right?” His arms surround me as we reach the top, standing in a hallway. “You don’t have to come in, you don’t have to participate, although you’re welcome to.”

  I stare up at him, my eyes traveling over scruff, smile, and sweet brown eyes.

  “And you know I’ll keep you safe,” he adds.

  My nod is cut short by him leaning into my neck and pressing a noisy kiss against my pulse. I yelp and pull away, laughing as he leads us through the hall.

  I hear people laughing on the other side of the door at the very end.

  Something about the closed door in front of me seems scarier than I know it’ll be. I’m curious about the secrets hiding behind it. I’m curious about all the versions of Elijah I haven’t met yet.

  And all the versions of myself that haven’t existed yet.

  “I’m not gonna pressure you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss into my hair just before he turns away to walk in the room.

  But I know me. And I know me in love with Elijah.

  I don’t hesitate to follow him inside the room.

  There’s a foul odor in the air and I immediately credit the marijuana, knowing this scent has clung to Elijah’s clothes from time to time. It hangs in the air, tingling in my nostrils, the smoke dimming the low lights in the room.

  There are guys and girls alike, all sitting back with a sense of ease I could never quite master.

  “Everyone, this is T,” Elijah announces as he leans over, daps up his friend, and takes the blunt handed to him.

  My eyes follow his every move as the smoke seeps out of his mouth, just before he quickly inhales it. It’s sexy, in a way I never thought could thrill me.

  And, when he decides he’s had enough, he holds the burning end toward me.

  No hesitation.

  I take it and he stands behind me, placing his hands on my waist and pushing my hips back against his.

  “Take a short pull,” he whispers against my ear, causing me to shiver, “and hold it in for a second.”

  I follow his directions and try my hardest not to cough. When I do, he tucks my hair behind my ear, and I can feel the way his body shakes with laughter.

  “Is it your first time?” one of the guys on the bed asks as my eyes water. He leans forward when Elijah hands him the blunt.

  “Yeah, it is.” Elijah’s answer almost sounds proud.

  Embarrassment seeps in, and I’m sure it shows. But when I turn to Elijah, he’s watching me with eyes that show more love than humor. They crease at the ends with a smile that doesn’t quite make it to his lips.

  Like he saves his smiles for me.

  “Want to head out?” he asks.

  “But we just got here,” I whisper, pressing my face into his chest.

  His arms squeeze me, and I can feel the vibration of his words as he says goodbye to everyone. I offer a wave under the arm he’s now placed over my shoulder.

  “Why are we leaving?” My brows are drawn and I’m wondering if I’ve done something wrong.

  He doesn’t answer me until we’re outside. “I just…want you to myself. Besides, these people will be here every day, doing the same thing.”

  “These people are your friends,” I insist, trying not to trip over the lawn in the darkness.

  Elijah scoffs, and it sounds sadder than I’d like it to be. It makes me want to drop everything and hug his heart. To do anything it takes to make his dreams come true.

  “They’re people I’ll forget. People who’ll forget me.”

  “But you care about them.”

  “Not the way I care about you,” he answers, opening the passenger door for me. “You’re the only thing I want to take from this place. The only person I won’t leave behind.”

  Promises aren’t something I desire from Elijah. They fill me to the brim, until I am only hopes and dreams, envisioning a future I don’t know I’ll have.

  He stares at me from outside the car as I try to shut the door.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks. Because there’s no room for bullshit here.

  “I…” I laugh to stave off the anxiety at my throat. “I don’t want you to make any promises.”

  When I reach for the door, this time he lets me shut it. And he takes his time walking around the car to the driver’s side. I can’t quite make him out in the night, but I’m sure he’s there.

  The driver’s side opens, and he slides in, quiet.

  There’s no immediate reach for keys, no easy air between us.

  “Do you want to do this?” Elijah asks. “And I mean really want to. Not just…let’s do this while we’re both still here for the summer, experimenting with each other. Because I don’t want anyone else, T.”

  Don’t say that, I want to shout.

  Because things change and if I take his words as seriously as he says them, I’ll be stuck. I’ll never see anyone else.

  He will become my sun.

  He will light my sky.

  Sitting in his passenger seat, having never experienced romance outside of what we’re experiencing here, I squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself not to be a chicken-shit. That I’ve already tried and loved new things. I am loving this, so why stop now?

  “Okay,” I say, letting myself go.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay,” I repeat. “I want to really do this with you.”

  Sometimes you have to face fears you never knew you had in order to get to where you’re meant to be.

  Obstacles aren’t always boulders in front of you. Sometimes, they’re a crumbling foundation that can’t be seen until it’s too late and you’re already falling.

  I just hope I’m not the only one falling.

  23

  HATE

  Elijah, high on happiness, tells me he wants to take me where he goes to write songs.

  “I’ve never taken anyone else here,” he says, squeezing my hand, excitement brimming in both of us.

  This is what love does; spins people on their heads until they’re dizzy.

  I am all goofy smiles that I try to hide, and Elijah’s voice is music to my ears, even when he isn’t singing.

  The road is laid out before us, full of promise. And as we ride, I swear I can feel us lifting off.

&nbs
p; My eyes are on him at all times. As he drives, as he fiddles with the radio, as he starts to sing along, as he smiles when he notices my stare.

  I swear I stare like I may never see him this way again. And maybe I never will. So I smile but continue to take him in as openly and unflinchingly as possible.

  When we park, he opens his door without waiting for me.

  Take a second, I think to myself. Screenshot this moment.

  And I inhale, my head back against the headrest as I let my mind upload this entire experience into my internal hard drive.

  Then my hand is on the door handle like it’s ushering me into the next point of collision.

  The air is much stiller than I thought it’d be but somehow, I can still hear the waves coming and going. Elijah stands in front of me, pulling the hoodie he grabbed from his trunk down his body. When he catches sight of me, he grins.

  “Thought I’d have to drag you out of there.”

  I offer a smile, nervous to speak. Nervous to break this spell.

  “You afraid?” he asks.

  He is smooth and beautiful and I’m not afraid in the small way he thinks.

  My fear is so much bigger than that. It could swallow the stars.

  But how would I explain that? So, I just shake my head.

  “Are you?” I ask him.

  “Maybe a little,” he whispers as I get close enough for him to grab my hand and pull me closer. “I’ve always been shitty with change.”

  He doesn’t have to tell me. I’ve been with him all this time.

  Still, I relax my hand in his grip as we head to the water.

  Something about the night feels like we’d always been here, standing still.

  We met in the presence of the sun.

  And then we met again under the moon.

  When he looks at me, the water to my left and him on my right, I wonder if the moon reminds him of me the way the sun reminds me of him. After all, my brightest days were when he was around.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks.

  I internally stumble over what to say and just how much to share. “I guess I’m wondering what you’re thinking about.”

  His snort has me pulling my hand out of his.

  “What?” I ask.

  Instead of answering, he pulls my hand back, tucking it into the crook of his arm. “You would find a way to try to turn it around on me.”

  “Hardly,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s the truth.”

  “I’m wondering what took us so long.”

  The waves continue to wreak havoc on the shore, unbothered by the two souls walking along it, falling into each other.

  I glance over at the moon and smile to myself. “Anything sooner would’ve been a disaster,” I answer, no lie to weigh down my words.

  Maybe he had to go out and experience. And maybe I had to…learn to love myself.

  “You think?”

  I sigh up at the sky. It accepts the sound and gives me peace in return. “Of course.”

  “What are your plans?”

  It’s a question I don’t want to answer because I don’t know the answer. I don’t want to go to college, and I haven’t told my parents yet.

  I’m nervous to share it with Elijah.

  Because what will I do instead?

  Chase him? Be with him? Follow him?

  “I’m not sure,” I tell him, taking the plunge as the waves crash, the water coming close to my feet. “What about you?”

  “Honestly,” he starts, lifting his arms so his hands rest on his head, “I feel like it’s gonna happen any day now, T.”

  “What is?” I stop in front of him, my hand coming to rest on his torso. Even through the fabric of his hoodie, I can feel his strength. My hair whips around me, tendrils already free from my ponytail.

  “That one push. I’ve been singing for so damn long. I’ve been writing and working and busting my ass. It’s coming.”

  I don’t say a word as I pull us down to sit.

  I don’t know what there is to say to the boy with so much hope in his heart.

  It’s coming. I hear the words repeat in my head as I lean into him.

  We don’t see the flashlight bouncing in the dark until a voice accompanies it.

  “Hey,” I hear someone yell, and I turn to see a police officer rushing toward us, struggling over the sand, his flashlight aimed at us.

  Elijah’s up quicker than I am and pulls me up with hands that grip tighter than they need to, his eyes locked on mine. I can see the seriousness in them, even in the darkness.

  We start to head to the car, his longer legs causing me to trail behind him. But he doesn’t let go, never lets go. The cop trailing is behind us all the way there.

  We hit the pavement and he finally reaches us, walking alongside us now.

  “You kids are trespassing,” the officer says, his eyes only on Elijah.

  When he stares at me, I don’t look away.

  Don’t back down.

  Not when the feeling in my belly tells me something about him doesn’t feel the way it should.

  “Are you okay, young lady?” he asks me, his flashlight in my face.

  I squint and put my free hand up to block the beam. “I’m fine,” I answer. “We’re just leaving.”

  I try to yank Elijah away but he’s staring at the officer with a look I can’t quite decipher on his face. Almost as if he’s daring the cop to address me again.

  If I thought my fear before was anything, the one tiptoeing toward us—its jagged little teeth gleaming in the moonlight—would kill us all.

  Every single one of us.

  “Elijah,” I whisper. “Let’s go.”

  “You should listen to her, Elijah,” the officer taunts.

  My eyes close for the briefest moment as I send a prayer up to anyone in the sky, watching us.

  To the moon.

  Please.

  Keep walking.

  “Yeah,” Elijah answers.

  And just as I think we’ve gotten away, I hear the officer come up behind us again.

  “We got a call about a couple of kids using illegal substances here. Mind emptying your pockets for me?” His flashlight is stowed away now.

  But the way he tucks his free hand in his belt loop makes me shudder.

  It’s so close to his gun.

  Elijah stops and says, “Actually, I do,” before turning back to open the passenger car door for me.

  I slide inside and their words are muffled as I buckle my seatbelt.

  I always thought of fear as a slow-moving beast. I only ever knew trouble to be paired with time, both stretching in ways that made it easy to see it coming.

  But that toothy monster digs his smug smile into me as I turn to see Elijah being taken down, this grown man rough with his much larger body.

  “Elij…” I start to scream as I open the passenger door.

  “Stay in the car!” the cop yells, his voice gruff as he treats Elijah’s body like it’s an enemy of his.

  My best friend’s eyes are wide as his face is pressed into the ground. He’s looking at me with eyes that I never want to see again.

  Don’t fight, I want to tell him.

  I send it to the moon, instead.

  I’ll fight for you.

  I don’t think as I grab my phone and start dialing. Two rings later, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to get help the fastest way I can.

  “I think they’re arresting Elijah,” I tell my dad. “I don’t know what happened, but we were only trespassing at the beach. And now he’s on the ground with a cop on top of him.” By the time I’ve gotten to the end, I’m sobbing.

  “Calmate, mija.” He mumbles something on the other end, and I assume he’s talking to my mom before he speaks to me again. “Is our boy okay?”

  The cop’s knee in the middle of Elijah’s back has me panicking.

  “Dad, please come help! He’s treating Elijah like a criminal!” I yell where we are, praying he gets h
ere before anything is taken too far.

  But it’s already way too far, isn’t it?

  Elijah is still and when the cop’s hand brushes against his gun, I scream. I scream and bang against the glass, causing him to pause and look at me.

  The way my world is tilted, the heat coming from my body, the sounds coming from my soul…it’s too much to keep inside.

  My dad is asking me what’s going on and telling me to calm down. I do once the cop cuffs Elijah and leaves him there. Like he’s nothing. Scum.

  And not the most beautiful boy.

  My love.

  Another cop pulls up and my dad stays on the phone as I watch them haul Elijah off the ground, the new officer regarding his colleague with a mouth that doesn’t seem to stop moving.

  Elijah sits there, silent, his head hanging so it’s hard to see the state of him.

  In this moment, I can’t look away from him. I can’t stop the tears and I can’t stop the fear from climbing on my back and making a home there.

  “We’re no longer just kids being kids,” I whisper as my dad parks his car and approaches the officers, slowly and with his hands outstretched.

  And I wonder what’s going to come of this night.

  Because there’s no way this is something the three of us will be able to simultaneously live with and let go of.

  He’s speaking to them, his hands gesturing, his features sagging toward the ground, his eyes wide as Elijah sits on the ground, handcuffed.

  My love’s eyes are on the moon.

  Is he praying to it, too?

  One officer is nodding, the other—the other who used force—walks away.

  I never thought I could hate anyone; I never thought this type of anger could live inside me.

  But maybe hate is a disease. Maybe it’s contagious and this incident is some sort of parasitic enigma that latches onto us all, spreading contempt like seeds in the night. They’re scattered all around us; they bloom in this car and on the pavement outside.

  And I water and tend to them.

  I open the door and listen to the exchange.

  “My daughter has footage of this. These are kids who were just at the beach…”

  “Sir, they were trespassing on private property. We got a call about…”

  “Officer, with all due respect, you and I both know the right call wasn’t made here. So, make the right call.”