Fish out of Water

by Natalie Whipple

  “He’s gone. I swear.”

  “Let me talk to him. Now,” I growl.

  She sighs. “Clinginess is not a very attractive quality. You really can’t get the picture?” I hear someone else in the background. It sounds like another woman. Then London says, “I’ll be right there, Mrs. Wainwright!”

  No, was that really her, or is London pretending? Maybe Dylan actually is out golfing with his dad.

  “I gotta go, but let me give you some advice, Mika,” London says. “Dylan is beyond charming, but you need to accept this before you hurt yourself more.”

  The way she talks, it feels like she pities me. I wish I could punch her. “I don’t need to accept anything. He’s coming back—and he’d talk to me right now if you weren’t such a bitch.”

  “Are you that dense?” She takes a deep breath. “Dylan isn’t coming back. He came home to tell his parents he was sorry for what he did, and they forgave him. He doesn’t belong at his uncle’s dirty old pet shop—he has much bigger things to do in his life. Do you understand?”

  I grit my teeth. “He said he didn’t want what his dad forced on him. He said he hated his life.”

  “Maybe he did. But then he saw how much it sucks to be poor, and now he’s learned his lesson. I guess I should thank you for helping him see the light, but if you really care about him you’ll let him go. It might sound harsh, but there’s no place in his life for a girl like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Yes. Please don’t call him again.” London hangs up without even a polite farewell.

  I immediately call back, ready to unleash my best swearing on her. She can’t possibly think I’d fall for that. She doesn’t pick up, and I call and call until I get the message that his phone is off. I let out a frustrated grunt. “You think that’ll stop him? He’ll call me back, bitch! He has my number memorized and he can find a phone.”

  I know he will. He’d never do that to me.

  Four days pass without a single text or email or phone call from Dylan. I’ve called so many times I’ve lost count. I try to remain strong, but as I sit on my bed and stare at my phone I don’t know what to think. He lives in a huge mansion—there’s no way he can’t find a phone or get internet access. Whether London told the truth or not, her words are beginning to hurt.

  Am I being clingy? Did I miss some big sign that he didn’t actually care about me? Because I was never so sure about a guy in my life.

  Part of me still wants to believe she’s lying. Maybe he’ll still call. Maybe she’s hatched this elaborate scheme to keep us apart now that he’s come home. Except I realize that sounds way crazier than admitting I was his summer fling and now he’s back to his fancy life in his mansion surrounded by power and money. It’s not like I’m in some TV drama—that really is the most logical explanation.

  Shit, I am being clingy.

  Dylan is gone. I just don’t want to believe it. But after so long without a single word how can I keep believing? Isn’t that called denial?

  There’s a tap at my door, and then Shreya peeks in. “Still nothing?”

  I start sobbing. It’s like all the times I wanted to cry in the past several days were saved up for this moment, and I fall into my pillows weeping uncontrollably. Shreya’s weight makes the bed creak, and her hand squeezes my shoulder. “Oh, Mika, I’m sorry.”

  “I … I … don’t think he’s coming back.” I’m not sure she can understand what I’m saying, but I can’t control myself.

  She doesn’t say anything, which has to mean she agrees. That feels like the final proof. She rubs my back as I let the reality of Dylan being gone hit me. I have no idea how I’m supposed to stop caring about him as much as I do. His arms should be around me if I’m crying this much. Shreya isn’t enough. No one is enough.

  Then Grandma pokes her head around the door. “What is all that racket?” she says in a very grouchy tone. “Did someone die?”

  I wipe at my face with my already-wet sheets. “Grandma … he left me. My boyfriend left me.”

  Her face fills with a deep sense of understanding, and she rushes to my side. She pulls me into a tight hug, stroking my hair. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  I hug her back. She may not be perfect, but she of all people understands what this feels like. “It hurts so much.”

  “I know. I told you it would if you really loved him.”

  That makes me cry harder. Maybe I really am cursed.

  “You,” Grandma says, and I assume she’s speaking to Shreya. “Make her some tea. Something soothing.”

  Footsteps sound down the hallway.

  “I don’t want tea,” I say.

  “But you need it.” She makes me lie down, and she pulls the covers up to my chin. “You also need to sleep.”

  I sniffle and cough. I must look like a mess. “How did you handle people leaving so many times? It’s the worst.”

  She purses her lips, and in her eyes I see more wisdom and understanding than I have in a while. Thank goodness she’s coherent today, because I’m certainly not. “You say to yourself, ‘Today I will let myself be the most miserable creature on the planet, but tomorrow I will get up and keep going.’”

  “How can I?”

  She takes my hand. “It won’t be easy, but you do it anyway. That’s all I got—I’m not sure I handled any of it right.”

  Maybe she didn’t, but I’m glad to have her here right now. “Do I really have to get up tomorrow?”

  She snorts. “Well, maybe you can have two days in this case. Since it’s the first time.”

  Shreya brings me tea, and Grandma makes me drink it all though it doesn’t sit well in my stomach. Before I know it, I’m spent from all that crying, but I can’t rest when I’m almost positive I’ll never see Dylan again.

  It’s dark when I wake up, and Shreya sleeps next to me. My eyes are swollen and my head pounds. I glance at my clock—almost midnight. Though I don’t want to get out of bed, my bladder forces me to. By the time I’m done, I know I won’t be able to sleep more. I can’t stop thinking about what London said, about how much I miss him and want to pretend it’s all a horrible joke.

  I grab my laptop and head for the living room. Putting on The Princess Bride, I hunker down on the sofa with a blanket and do exactly what I shouldn’t do.

  Open Facebook.

  Check my status.

  It still says we’re in a relationship, which gives me a weird sense of hope that I immediately despise. I almost change it myself, but I can’t. I’m not ready for it to be that final, for people to know how much pain I’m in. Besides, if he really wants out, he should be the one to change it.

  I try to watch my movie, try to feel better because at least Westley and Buttercup still make it. But I keep checking my status, imagining Dylan in his giant mansion, one click away from breaking all ties with me.

  Chapter 44

  The next day, I do what Grandma says. I get up. I get dressed and eat and go to work even though it’s the last place I want to be. My smile is fake, but the customers don’t seem to notice. Clark can’t look me in the eye, but I’m fine with that.

  “Hey, Mika,” he says about half way through my shift. “How about you take the rest of the day off?”

  I sigh. “Do I look that depressed?”

  He cringes. “It’s Friday, thought you’d like a longer weekend.”

  Hell, I want to leave anyway. I’m way past pride at this point. “Thanks, I guess. Longer weekends never hurt.”

  “Um, one other thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  There’s a long pause, and I’m really hoping he doesn’t bring up his nephew because I’m poised to attack anyone who even thinks of that jerk. “I’d hate to lose you, but if you don’t want to work here anymore, I understand. Say the word, and I’ll put up an ad, okay?”

  “Oh.” I’m struck by how extremely considerate of him this is, and how inconsiderate the rest of his family is. “I haven’t really
thought about it, but if it gets too … Well, I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay.”

  I don’t want to go home so early, but I don’t want to be anywhere else, either. So I pedal slowly, trying to think of something to distract myself with for the rest of the day. I got nothing. Besides, I’ll be trapped in the house with my grandma in a couple hours anyway. May as well spend my time staring at Facebook, waiting for him to officially break up with me.

  Stopping in front of the mailbox, I check to see if we got anything. There’s a bunch of junk mail and one letter addressed to me. It’s from my school.

  My class schedule.

  I stare at the envelope, hardly able to believe it’s time for school again. My junior year feels like it happened years ago, and the thought of classes and homework and tests doesn’t mesh with what my life has been like this summer. I feel too old for school, as if in one season I officially turned into an adult.

  When I open it and look at my schedule, it seems like nonsense. Do I really have to do this in a week?

  Sighing, I push my bike up our path. Maybe it’s a good thing. School is a distraction, and I need one of those. It could help me get back to normal, to start making this summer a distant memory.

  “Mika! You’re home early!” Joel exclaims when I open the door. And not in an excited way. But Grandma is at the kitchen table in front of a game of checkers, and nothing seems immediately out of order.

  I narrow my eyes. “Can you be more suspicious?”

  He bites his lip, glancing at the hall. “I told them they should tell you, but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He gives me this pitiful look. “You better go see. In your room.”

  I hurry down the hall, which is when I hear the music in my room, accompanied by voices. When I push the door open, I freeze. Olivia and Shreya stand by my bed, where they are packing a suitcase. Shreya’s suitcase.

  “What the hell?” I say, and they both turn. The look on their faces is pure shock, and I can’t help but feel a deep sense of betrayal.

  “M-Mika,” Shreya sputters. “What are you doing home?”

  “What are you doing packing up and leaving while I’m at work? Were you even going to tell me?”

  “I was on Monday, but then Dyl … ” Shreya looks at her feet. “I didn’t want to add insult to injury.”

  Olivia cringes. “She should have told you sooner, but you’ve just been going through so much—”

  “And you thought doing the exact same thing he did was the way to go?” I shouldn’t be yelling, but I’m so angry and if I don’t scream I’ll cry. “You were going to disappear and let me discover you ditched me, too?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Shreya squeaks. “I should have thought about that.”

  I fold my arms. “So what, you’re going to Olivia’s because you can’t handle all my crap anymore?”

  They exchange a glance, and I get the feeling it’s much worse than that.

  “Actually … ” Shreya gulps. “Pavan found a restaurant to rent in Salinas, so I need to be closer to help him get it ready.”

  I stare at her, horrified. “You’re moving in with your brother?”

  She nods.

  “So you’re not going to school with us anymore, and you won’t be here to sand sculpt on Saturdays, and you’ll be so busy with this restaurant I’ll barely ever see you … ” I ramble on, tears forming in my eyes against my will. It feels like my world is crumbling beneath my feet. “That’s why you’ve been acting so weird. You knew you were doing this weeks ago, and you didn’t tell me.”

  She purses her lips, on the verge of crying herself. “What else am I supposed to do, Mika? You’re my best friend, but I can’t stay here forever. I need my family, too. Being with Pavan and Rachelle makes me feel like I haven’t lost everything.”

  I wipe at my eyes, knowing and hating that she’s right. She has as many problems as I do, and it’d be selfish of me to be mad at her. “This sucks.”

  “I know.” She sniffles. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find the right words or time to tell you—I didn’t want to hurt you on top of everything else. Because I know you need me, but … I have nothing to give unless I’m happy, too.”

  I force myself to nod. “So is Pavan coming to pick you up?”

  “In about half an hour.”

  I suck in a deep breath, trying to be strong about this because Shreya needs me to be. She needs to think this won’t break me, though it’s tearing me apart inside. “Then I better help you pack.”

  Helping her fold clothes, I realize I’ve gotten good at pretending I’m fine. All the fake smiles at work have given me too much practice, because I can joke and laugh with Olivia and Shreya even though my mind keeps saying: Everyone is leaving you, your life is over, and soon you’ll have no one left, just like your grandma lost everyone.

  I really am cursed.

  Pavan shows up right on time, and I give Shreya a big hug as he puts her things in the trunk. This is it. She’s leaving. It might not be as far as San Jose, but it’s still too far.

  “You have to at least call me sometimes,” I manage to say without even a squeak.

  “Of course. Maybe we can still sculpt on Saturdays.” Her tears wet my shoulder. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Me too,” I force out.

  She lets me go and hugs Olivia, who is as strong as a rock like usual. We watch as they drive away, and I hold on to myself so Olivia can’t see me shaking. She turns to me, looking sad. “Do you want me to stay?”

  I shake my head. “I’m tired. I should sleep while Joel is here.”

  “Okay.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but then lets out a long sigh. “Call me if you want to hang out later, okay?”

  “Yup.” I head back inside before she can see just how broken I am. Joel is right there to hug me as I cry. Though I’m glad, I also feel bad for making more work for him. Dylan should be here for me right now, and he’s not.

  “I don’t have another appointment until this evening,” Joel says. “I’ll stay until your parents get home, okay?”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “You go rest.”

  I do. I sleep and sleep because being awake hurts. It’s dark when my phone rings, and I fumble around for it as I pull myself out of the haze. When I see the number, I think I might still be dreaming. It can’t be, but it is. Dylan.

  I almost let it go to voicemail, but at the last second I hit “accept.”

  Chapter 45

  “What?” I say, my voice every bit as cold as I hoped it’d be. Even if I’ve been dying to talk to him, I’m still pissed it took five whole days for that to happen.

  “Okay, you’re probably really mad at me,” Dylan starts. “But I swear I didn’t mean for it to be so long. I lost my phone. I think one of the maids saw it on the counter and didn’t think it was—”

  “So London’s your maid now?”

  “Whoa … what?”

  “And you couldn’t have emailed me or borrowed a phone?” It spills out, even though I don’t want it to seem like I’ve been hurt. “I seriously doubt your giant mansion doesn’t have internet access.”

  “Actually, the internet was down, but—”

  “For five days? Really?”

  There’s silence for a second. “Yeah, really. But now that I think about it, that seems weird, doesn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t seem weird. It seems like a lie. You’re up there having a great time playing golf with your dad and soaking in all that money again. Why would you want to come back here?”

  “Mika … what’s going on?” He sounds concerned, but I’m too upset to worry about his feelings. “And why did you bring up London?”

  “You mean your mom’s tennis partner who’s over at your house answering your phone and everything?”

  “What?!”

  “Why don’t you ask her? Or didn’t you know there’s no place in your life for a
girl like me?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Finally he sounds frustrated with me, and that’s just what I want. I need him to hurt like I am. “Did she talk to you?”

  “You can figure that out on your own.” I shouldn’t, but before I can stop myself it comes out, “Or maybe I can leave a vague note with your uncle in the middle of the night with the explanation. And then I’ll screw around for five days while you stew over why I disappeared and stopped talking to you.”

  “Mik—”

  “Don’t.” I get up, slip my flats on. “I’m hungry, and I’d like to eat in peace. Bye.” I hang up, which feels satisfying and also horrible. He immediately calls back, so I pull the battery out of my phone and chuck it on my bed.

  I need to get out of here. No, I need to get out of my life. I can’t stand it anymore, and there’s no relief in sight. There’s only one thing that might stop me from going completely insane.

  My parents stand from the couch when they see me, looking worried as all get out. Joel must have told them what happened. They start to talk, but I hold up a hand. “I’m going out to eat. I’ll be back. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill myself.”

  And then I’m on my bike, pedaling like a mad woman. The air bites at my bare arms, but I don’t care. A car honks when I recklessly cut across traffic. People curse at me as I barrel down a busy sidewalk. It feels good. Making other people angry somehow lessens my own pain. The more people I can piss off, the happier I feel.

  By the time a guy in a truck throws a string of cuss words at me, I’m so determined to take out this injustice on someone that I storm into Shades of Bombay like a freaking bank robber. People stare at me as I stomp down the aisle, all the way back to the kitchen. I shove the swinging door open and stand there, probably looking wild.

  Shreya’s family stops working, all eyes on me.

  “She’s moving! Are you happy now?” I scream. “Because of your stupid prejudices my best friend is gone and I can’t have curry and I want to hate you for hurting her. But I can’t because I know she wouldn’t want me to.”

  Her father’s nostrils flare. “How dare—”