Fish out of Water

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Fish out of Water Page 22

by Natalie Whipple


  The garage door opens, and I reluctantly pull myself away from whatever Olivia was going to say. My grandmother walks in first, seeming cranky as she looks around. It only makes me smile wider as I hug her. “Welcome home, Grandma.”

  She pats me on the back. “It looks clean.”

  “I polished everything just for you.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” Dad says as he and Mom come in. He notices Olivia on the couch. “Thank you, too, Olivia.”

  She stands, seeming ready to go now that they’re home. Or maybe she’s ready to escape my questions. “No prob! I’ll catch you later, Mika.”

  “See ya.” After she waves goodbye, I turn back to Grandma. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” My grandma pushes me to the side and walks towards the hall. At least it seems like she remembers where to go. I worried it might be a hard adjustment after being in the hospital so long.

  “I’ll help you into bed.” Dad follows her. “The doctors said you still need to be careful.”

  “Oh, fine,” she grumbles.

  Mom heads for the cupboard, seeming concerned about me. “Should I make you some tea?”

  “Yeah. Make enough for yourself, too.” I lean on the counter and watch Mom put water in the kettle.

  She looks exhausted, but she still smiles. “If you insist.”

  “I do.” As she pulls out cups and tea bags and little cookies, I can’t help thinking about what happened at the hospital. The words my grandma screamed … “Did Grandma really yell at you like that?”

  Mom pauses, then looks at me. “It was much worse than that, Mi-chan. I insisted to your father that we should visit his mother to tell her we were engaged. He didn’t want to—we got in a big fight about it—but I eventually won.”

  “So we’re going there tonight, huh?” Dad leans on the counter next to me, sighing heavily. “I really hoped we’d never tell this story.”

  “I know,” Mom says. “But she deserves to know.”

  My dad has never looked so sad. “We went to Vermont, Mika, though I knew what would happen. Yumi thought she could win my mother over, but she’s the most stubborn woman alive. This disease has actually made her more agreeable, if you can believe it.”

  “Wow.” I can’t picture her being surlier than now.

  “I was surprised your father came from such poor circumstances. He was always careful to look clean and polished.” Mom pours the water into the teacups and sticks the bags in. She hands one to me. “He never told me he had a hard childhood, but I could handle that fine. It was Betty’s reaction to me I wasn’t prepared for. She called me awful names and told me to get away from her son. And then … ”

  Mom takes her tea and drinks. It doesn’t stop me from noticing her hands shake. Dad puts his arm around her trembling shoulders. Then he looks at me, a flicker of anger still there. “My mom hit her with a lamp. Can you imagine that? She picked up the nearest thing and swung right at your mom’s head. I had to wrestle her to the ground and take the lamp before she did it again. Your mom was bleeding badly. I rushed her to a hospital, and that was the last time I saw my mom until she showed up here.”

  Mom pulls back her hair, revealing a scar I’ve never seen before. “Fourteen stitches. We thought about pressing charges, but then we’d have had to see her and deal with her in court. Plus, we were still poor grad students. We didn’t think it was worth it.”

  My mouth hangs open as I watch Dad protect Mom even now. He kisses her scar, holds her close as they relive that nightmarish day. I had no idea it was that bad. “No wonder you didn’t want her around.”

  Dad sighs. “I wasn’t about to risk the safety of my wife or daughter, though I know cutting her out of my life was cruel. What else was I supposed to do? I had to protect you guys—you mean more to me than anything.”

  Mom leans into him more. “That’s why I love you.”

  I go over and hug them, feeling luckier than ever that they stayed together through all that. They wrap their arms around me, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so close to them in my life.

  Chapter 41

  “More sugar,” Grandma says for the fourth time. After hearing what she did to Mom, I watch her closer than ever this morning. I know I should be angrier with her about it, but what’s the point? She won’t remember. I’d only be punishing myself. So while I’m on my guard, I’ll still care for her as she is right now.

  I’m pretty sure the oatmeal is more sugar than anything else, but I comply with her request. I’m determined to figure out how to replicate the stuff my great aunt Grace used to make. It’s not going particularly well. I give her the spoon again. “How’s that?”

  Grandma blows on it and takes a bite. Her face scrunches as she judges the flavor, and I expect yet another complaint. “It’s edible.”

  “Edible? Does that mean I can get you a bowl?”

  She nods. “It’s not right, but you can’t cook well enough for it to be perfect.”

  I pour the oatmeal in a bowl, trying not to laugh at her dead serious assessment. “I can’t cook at all.”

  “It shows.”

  “Mom,” Dad snaps from the kitchen table. “Be nice. She’s trying.”

  She sits next to him with her bowl in hand. “She’ll never get it if I don’t tell her when it’s wrong!”

  “It’s fine. I have no pride in my cooking skills.” I’m just glad she’s here, that we’re all around the breakfast table as a family again. With Mom tapping at her smart phone, Dad shoving down cereal before it gets soggy, and Grandma griping about the food, it feels like her heart attack never happened.

  The doorbell rings, and I jump up to get it. When I open the door, there’s Joel with a big smile on his face. “Mika! It’s been too long. How’s my Betty?”

  “Better. Still weak, and the doctors said she needs to stay as calm as possible.” I let him in.

  “Of course, that’s easier said than done.”

  “I know, right?”

  He struts ahead of me and waves excitedly when he rounds the corner. “Betty Arlington, don’t you ever scare me like that again, young lady! I don’t want you going anywhere for a long time.”

  Grandma gives him a curious look, but doesn’t seem too upset about Joel being here. “Sorry?”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  While Joel distracts her with stories about his other patients, my parents grab their work things. Mom catches my eye and motions for me to follow them into the garage. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m in trouble. “What is it?”

  Dad straightens his glasses. “This might upset you, but your mom and I were thinking you probably shouldn’t bring Dylan here for awhile. Just in case she has another bad reaction.”

  “Oh, yeah, of course.” I try to act cool, but all I can think of is what happened yesterday. “I was already planning on that, actually. He’ll understand.”

  Mom smiles. “I’m sure he will. Have a good day, sweetie.”

  “You, too!” When they’re gone, I rush around the house getting ready for work. I wish I could wear anything except my uniform, but at least I’ll get to see Dylan for four whole hours. I pedal extra fast on my way to AnimalZone, not even embarrassed that I’ll be early and obviously excited to see him.

  I park my bike in back and run my fingers through my hair. My heart pounds as I clock in, picturing the smile on his face at the sight of me. But when I get to Aquatics, he’s not there. I check the register, frowning when he’s nowhere in sight. He has to be here somewhere if the store is open.

  Finally, I break down and head for Clark’s office. He sits in front of the computer, rifling through bills. He jumps when he sees me. “Oh, there you are, Mika.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Where else would I be?”

  He offers a small smile, but something seems off about it. “So your friend never called me. Does she not need the job anymore?”

  My brow furrows. “I told you, she wants to start a restauran
t with her brother.”

  “Oh, right!” He fiddles with the papers on his desk. “Sorry, guess I forgot.”

  He must need another employee more than I realized if he’s bringing this up again. “I mean, she might change her mind, but she doesn’t have a phone because her parents cut hers off. It’s hard for me to stay in contact with her lately.”

  “Sounds familiar,” he says.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I purse my lips, suddenly feeling weird asking him. “Speaking of the help, where’s Dylan?”

  “D-Dylan?” His voice cracks, and he pulls at his collar.

  I frown. “Is he sick or something?”

  He gulps. “Not exactly.”

  The warning bells start going off, but my boss is the last person I want to freak out in front of. “What do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”

  He sighs, and with it his face falls into something part-sadness part-anger. “I don’t know how that punk expected me to do this. It’s really not fair to either one of us after all that’s happened this summer.”

  “What are you talking about?” The panic is rising, rising, rising, like a tide coming in too fast. “Did something happen to him?”

  He takes a slip of paper from his desk and holds it out to me. “I’m so sorry, Mika.”

  I take it, trying not to show how scared I am. It’s the kind of paper you write a grocery list on, and I imagine this was written in their kitchen at home. I don’t want to read the words, but I force myself to:

  Uncle, I’m going back to apologize. I have to do it now before I chicken out. Tell Mika for me. Bye.

  —Dylan

  Chapter 42

  “He must have left in the middle of the night,” Clark says when I don’t answer for who-knows-how-long. “I found that this morning. He took all his stuff and my car. I never thought he would do this … he seemed so happy.”

  I shake my head. “You’re misunderstanding what this means.” He has to be. Dylan wouldn’t just up and leave the same day we … “He wouldn’t steal your car and never come back. That’s not who he is anymore.”

  “Are you sure?” He doesn’t seem convinced, and I’m not sure if it makes me mad or scared. “I hate to say it, but he doesn’t exactly have the best track record.”

  “I’m sure,” I say, though my mind is racing in all different directions. He wouldn’t leave me after all we’ve been through. Or was it just a game to him? No, it wasn’t. The way he defended me from my grandma yesterday wasn’t a lie. No one could be that deceitful. “There has to be an explanation. He’ll call. He probably just didn’t want to wake me up in the middle of the night. And it’s not like San Jose is that far away. He probably just wanted to clear the air with his parents, and he’ll be back tonight.”

  Clark purses his lips, thinking it over. “That doesn’t sound impossible. I sure hope you’re right.”

  “I’m right.” I have to be. I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m wrong. “I’ll get to work now.”

  When I’m not checking my phone, I scrub and vacuum and brush and help every customer that comes through the door, but the day still goes by much slower without Dylan to talk to. How I ever did this alone baffles me.

  I’m tempted to call him, but I also don’t want to look needy just because he’s gone for one day. It’s been three hours and I still haven’t gotten a phone call, so I decide I’m allowed to at least send a text. It takes me a few minutes to settle on: Did you get there safely?

  That’s neutral enough. Shows I care but I’m not freaking out. I hit send and wait for a reply.

  Nothing. For a whole hour.

  He doesn’t have time to send me one line telling me he’s okay? I tap at my phone, waiting and wondering why he decided now was the time to go see his parents. When we saw them at the mall, he still seemed furious with them. But he did say he wished they could be happy. Maybe he really does miss them.

  Shaking myself out of it, I focus on fish tanks. There’s something soothing about watching fish swim. They’re graceful and quiet, in a world all their own. They’re so … not enough to keep me distracted from the fact that my boyfriend just up and left in the middle of the night for a reason I can’t understand.

  I pull up my text window again. Are you okay? Starting to worry.

  I send it before I think too much about how needy I might sound. But he was driving in the middle of the night, and San Jose is almost three hours away. What if he fell asleep at the wheel and got hurt? Because he wouldn’t just go home without contacting me. He wouldn’t leave me like that. I’m sure of it.

  Why does Shreya not have a phone right now? I need her to tell me this is okay. I need her to talk me off the cliff while I stuff my face with curry. Except I can’t go eat curry thanks to all her family drama.

  The second I get off work, I’m desperate enough to call Pavan. He answers cheerily. “Hello, Mika. You looking for my sister?”

  “You had her for a whole day.” My voice is decidedly whiny. “You better give her back to me.”

  His laugh is hearty. “We’re actually just about to leave for your house.”

  “Good. See you soon, then.” I get on my bike, but then can’t decide where to eat. Another text, just in case his phone is on vibrate. When are you coming back? I wanted to go out with you tonight.

  I end up going home. Joel raises his eyebrow when I enter the kitchen, where he’s making lunch. “You’re early.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to eat anywhere.” I’m starting to not want to eat anything, but I don’t say that. “Those grilled cheeses sure look good, though.”

  He laughs as he grabs more bread. “You’re very subtle.”

  “It’s a talent.” I stare at the clock, hoping Shreya comes soon. Then I check my phone, wishing it would ring or beep or something. Shouldn’t Dylan at least text me back? What’s so hard about typing a quick message so I don’t totally lose it wondering what that note—

  Grandma puts her hand on my knee, which was bouncing a hundred times a minute. “You’re shaking the table, girl.”

  “Sorry,” I say, though I don’t like her calling me “girl.” Maybe she’s having a hard time remembering my name.

  “You okay?” Joel asks as he sets our plates in front of us. “You seem … nervous.”

  “I do?”

  His eyes narrow. “I should warn you—I’m very hard to fool. So if you plan on lying to me, don’t bother.”

  “I wasn’t.” I sigh, trying to let some of my nerves go with it. There’s no reason for me to be this wound up. Everything is probably fine. I’ll feel silly if I worry too much and then find out it’s nothing. “It’s not a big deal. If I find out it is, then I’ll be sure to tell you. I don’t want to stress anyone out.”

  “You promise?”

  “Of course.” The doorbell rings, and I hop up. “That must be Shrey! Finally.”

  I practically tackle her after I open the door, never happier to see her in my life. She laughs as she hugs me back. “You’d think I was gone for a year with that welcome.”

  “I told you I can’t live without you. There’s so much I need to tell you—you have no idea.” I pull her towards my room, and I think I hear Joel complaining about me not eating the food he made. But this can’t wait any longer. I have to tell Shrey before I explode with panic.

  By the time I’m done recapping the hospital freak out, what happened after, and the note Dylan left for Clark, she stares at me with wide eyes and no words. I pull Dylan’s note from my pocket, and she reads it a few times. Finally, she says, “It has to be a misunderstanding. If he didn’t like being here, why would he write a note at all? Wouldn’t he just leave?”

  “True! Yes.” I pace my room, this odd energy coursing through me. I have no idea what it is, but there’s no way I can sit. “Excellent point. So I shouldn’t worry, right?”

  “No, but you should just call him,” Shreya says. “You’ve given him plenty of time and texts to reply to. You’re his girlfriend—you don’t
have to apologize for wanting to hear from him.”

  “You’re right.” I grab my phone and call his number. My hand shakes as I put it to my ear. Shreya leaves the room while it rings.

  “Why hello, Mika,” a voice says. A female voice. “Or should I say Fish Girl?”

  I can’t breathe, and I have no idea what to say except, “London.”

  “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

  When I don’t answer immediately, she laughs and laughs.

  Chapter 43

  I should be cussing out London, defending myself, demanding to speak to Dylan. Something. But all I can do is listen to her laugh and wonder why the hell she’s answering his phone. Is she in his house? His room?

  “The second I saw that dumpy car in the driveway I knew he must have come home,” London says when she finally stops snickering. “And sure enough, I was right. Didn’t I tell you, Mika? Dylan doesn’t have girlfriends.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I want it to sound strong, but instead I sound squeaky and weak.

  “Oh yeah? So you didn’t sleep with him?”

  I don’t answer again.

  She scoffs. “You thought you were so much better than me, that you somehow changed him. You were a game, like all the other girls—a tougher game, sure, but still a game. Once he won, he did what he always does. He got bored and moved on. I think you should get over it, too.”

  Her words feel like burning hot acid dripped straight on my heart. Not because I believe her, but because she’s saying everything I’m afraid of. I force the lump in my throat down, determined not to show my weakness. “You’re full of crap. Dylan’s not like that anymore, so let me talk to him.”

  “He went golfing with his dad, didn’t even bother to bring this cheap-ass phone. His mom called me over to play tennis, and I just happened to hear it ring.”

  “You’re lying.” I can’t fall for this. London hates me, she’s obviously trying to scare me away. “Give him the phone.”

 

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