Entrelacen

by Morales, Dani

  It was late. I was tired and just wanted to get somewhere. A car I didn’t recognize pulled up, and Bubba jumped out. Bubba was a year older than us, which made him sixteen. He was massive. Despite his size, he was such a sweetheart, like a big teddy bear. He was not really cute at all, but he was definitely a good friend to have. Bubba was Stephanie’s cousin, and she kept trying to hook us up, but Ijust wasn’t into dating right then. My focus had to be strictly on school. I needed to have a better life than my parents had. Allowing myself to get caught up with a boy was just unacceptable, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t flirt. I sound like a major hypocrite, don’t I? How did I have time to run away but not date? Well, the real reason I didn't date is because I have always been scared of rejection. Why let myself get hurt when I could hurt myself without all the embarrassment? So that’s why I didn’t try to date.

  “Hey, April. Lisa. You girls ready to party?”

  Party? No one said anything about a party, but with all the stress I was feeling, I just thought, 'Screw it. Bring on the drinks!' I mean how much harm could one drink do?

  “Hell yeah, let’s go!” We both said, busting out laughing. I guess when you’re around someone so much you end up saying the exact same things at the same time.

  “Well vamoose!”

  Oh yea, Bubba is Hispanic by the way. Most of the people I hung out with were. Basically the entire neighborhood was too. I'm half Hispanic, but my skin is white. I take after my mom, thank God.

  Just thinking about my mom was making me regret this stupid failed attempt at running away. Then I looked over at Lisa and knew I had to. I stood by my friend when she needed me to. I made a mental note to ask her what was going on at home to cause all this.

  We made it to the house, and all the nervous energy seemed to evaporate knowing I was about to have a drink for the first time. We headed straight for the kitchen and downed one shot, then another, and another. I started to feel free. My lips became numb. We couldn’t stop laughing. Bubba’s mom came home and asked if we were staying over since we were obviously drunk. We said we were going to, and she told us goodnight. Some rap song came on, and Lisa and I started dancing, if that’s what you can call it since we were laughing and falling all over ourselves. Somehow we both made it to the room we would be staying in and passed out.

  The next morning Bubba came into the room and said, “Hey girls. Let’s go to the park or movies or something.”

  “Dude, what time is it?”

  “April get your ass up. It’s already three o’clock.”

  “Alright, alright. We’re getting up.”

  We made it to the park down the street when Steph called Lisa. The look on Lisa’s face worried me. “What’s up, Lisa? What did she say?”

  “Well she messed up. She called your rents and they called the cops.”

  “Are you serious? What the hell was she thinking? How hard is it to follow directions? I mean they weren’t even hard!”

  I freaked out knowing my parents called the cops. I was only gone one night, one freaking night! Then I got pissed off. She was supposed to be my best friend, and she spoiled everything. If they knew we were gone, Bubba’s mom would probably know soon too.

  “Lisa, we have to go now! Bubba’s mom will find out, and you know she’ll make us go back.”

  “Oh my mom already knows what’s going on.”

  Wait. What? How could his mom know what was going on and let us stay anyway? My mind started thinking. Maybe she was giving us time to see what we were doing was wrong by providing a safe environment. That couldn’t be it. My sixth sense told me it was a set up.

  “Bubba, Steph doesn’t know we’re here, right?”

  “Nah. She thinks you’re at Lisa’s house.”

  “Okay. We have to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

  While heading back to the house to get our stuff together just in case, we got another call. This time the call was from Sandra.

  “Not to spoil your fun or whatever, but the cops just left my house.”

  Crap. Double Crap. This changed everything. My mom was going to the extremes for this.

  “Did you tell them anything?”

  “No. I had nothing to tell. All I said was that you both are supposed to come stay over tonight.”

  “Okay. Good Sandra. We’re not sure what we’re going to do right now, but as soon as we figure it out we will call you.”

  “Alright. And April?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Please be careful.”

  “You got it. I’ll see you soon.”

  The night passed by in a series of attempted plans. We called everyone and anyone we knew who could help get us out of town, but we came up empty. Maybe this was a sign. Could the universe and the goddesses have been telling me leaving was a huge mistake and to take my ass home? I spent most of the night staring out the window and looking out at the stars willing them to tell me what to do. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew Bubba was telling me his family was heading to church, and they would be back in a few hours. I drifted back into the dream I was having. It seemed important at the time and hoped it continued…

  “April.” I can hear my name being called in all directions. I’m standing in a field of sunflowers. I know this has to be a dream. Otherwise I would be having a major reaction to these flowers. My throat would be closing, and I would be swelling up, so I take the time to admire their beauty. “April, you need to pay attention. We don’t have much time.”

  I look down at my arms and see goose bumps from the breeze that blew that message to me. “Who are you? Where are you?”

  “We’re many. We’re all around you, in the air you breathe, the grass you walk on, the sun that shines on your face.”

  That’s a little scary. “So you are the universe? The goddesses that my mom speaks of?” I wait for a reply that doesn’t seem like it’s going to come, when the landscape changes, and I’m floating on a cloud surrounded by millions of stars.

  " We’re who you say. We know why you left and find it noble for you to stick by your friend, but you must go home when your mom comes for you. You are destined for something more than this path you are on now. There will be many obstacles, and at times you might feel like you can’t go on, but push through. You have strength inside you that you don’t see yet. Give it time daughter. Your power will grow inside you, and with that, you will do great things.” I want to ask more questions, but I’m being pulled away…

  “April Marie Martinez you better open your eyes and get your ass up right this second!”

  I opened my eyes to see my mother standing in the doorway. I shake Lisa awake, and she realized we were caught. Without saying a word, we got up, grabbed our bags, and made our way to the car. I tried to form an explanation in my head, preparing myself for an unpleasant conversation.

  A cop met us at the house. Have you ever talked to a cop when you’re in trouble? Let me tell you, It’s the scariest thing ever. I was literally sitting on the couch shaking and lisping on my letter "S". I hadn’t done that since the second grade.

  “April can you enlighten us on what was going on in your head that made you feel like it was a smart idea to leave home without a guardian?”

  I couldn't decide if I should lie or tell the truth. I looked over at Lisa, who nodded her head to let me know it was okay to tellthe truth. So that’s what I did. I was honest for the first time this weekend.

  “I made a pact with Lisa that if something got too hard for one of us, we would leave together. No questions asked. I knew at the time it was a stupid pact Officer Ramirez, but in all honesty, I never thought we would go through with it.”

  That’s when Lisa told them it was her idea, that there had been problems at her house, and she needed out. She told them about the pact we made to always stick together, always.

  The cop told us that we should consider talking to someone before trying to take care of the problem ourselves. He gave us a warning and left. My
mom, being the understanding person she is, told Lisa she could move in with us until things got better at home. Her familydidn’t even bat an eye. I also got sent to counselling.

  Have you ever been to counselling? It’s a joke, a big huge joke. They don’t care what you are going through; you are just another case that gets them paid.

  I have never been much of a talker, especially when it comes to how I’m feeling. So for one hour a day I sat and stared at this lady who couldn’t care less about what was going on in my head. I’m not cocky or confident, but I know I’m smart. I know when I’m being lied to, and having to face this every day for the next month was going to be torture in its purest form.

  I walked into the office, and a lady that didn’t look much older than me was sitting behind a desk. I took it upon myself to take in my surroundings, you know for safety and all that. One wall was completely filled of books. I stared in awe. I’ve always wanted my own personal library. There’s just something about being surrounded by books that’s calming. I know that makes me sound like anuber geek, but that’s ok. Its the truth, and that’s all that matters. There was this red couch in front of the books, so I took a seat before she could tell me to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. The office felt really welcoming, but I didn’t let that fool me. Her degrees were framed, and they hung on the wall behind her desk. There were also a few family photos scattered around the place. Decorations say a lot about someone and what is important to them. Everything matched. From the cherry desk, to the cherry color of the bookcases, to the cherry frames on the photos.

  “I’m Dr. Melanie Michaels. You are?”

  “Doesn’t the file in front of you say who I’m?” Yes, I know I sound a little bit snarky, but come on, who in their right mind would go to a shrink if they didn’t have to. All I got was a look in response, so I sighed, “April.”

  “Do you hate yourself?”

  What kind of question was that? Umm no, I didn’t hate myself. That was a loaded question to ask first anyway.

  “No.”

  “Then why do you cut yourself?”

  Ah. That’s it. Passing judgment. Aren’t therapist supposed to evaluate, not make

  assumptions? How’d she know I cut myself? I guess my mom must have known about it all along and just chose to see if I would ever approach her about it.

  “Well, I cut myself because it makes me feel something.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “I’m just trying to understand you April. This would go a lot easier if you would cooperate” She seemed frustrated.

  Hmm, cooperate? Yeah right. I was tired of this. I could see judgment written all over her face.

  “Fine. Yes I cut myself. Why? Well I cut because sometimes I feel so alone that pain is better than feeling numb.”

  “Why do you feel numb?”

  I stared at her. Was she being serious? All this was confidential, right? Maybe she did care and could help me. After all I cut because I wanted someone to notice that I wasn't okay. Could I trust her enough to talk to her? I was all over the place. The look of judgment was gone and was replaced with empathy? Could that be right, or was I misreading her? No that look was definitely empathy. Maybe she had gone through this too.

  “My mom is working her as- butt off to provide for our family while my dad sits on his butt and does nothing. My brother feels like he has to gain my father’s respect. I see how much it hurts him when my dad constantly ignores him. He’s constantly getting in trouble hoping to get his attention. I’m tired of my mom working day and night to provide for us when my dad does nothing. So why do I feel numb, you ask? While my mom is working, my dad is doing whatever the hellIt’s he does, and my brother is grabbing all the attention by whatever means he can, who pays attention to me?”

  “So you’re doing it for attention?”

  “No, not necessarily for the attention. If I wanted attention, I would act stupid like my brother and friends. I would go party, get trashed, have sex, and maybe end up pregnant.”

  “So if it’s not attention you seek, what do you want?”

  “To be recognized. To be seen. To know that someone is paying attention to what’s going on in my life. I want someoneto care.”

  “You don’t think your mom cares? Why don’t you talk to her?”

  “My mom has her own problems. I don’t want to burden her with mine. I know she cares. I know she loves me, but I love her too. These insecurities are my own. My problem. I have to deal with them on my own.”

  “Maybe instead of cutting yourself, you can start keeping a journal. Find something that gives you passion so you don’t have to feel numb anymore.”

  That made sense. Maybe she did care. Maybe I was wrong to judge her and think she was the same as everyone else.

  “I‘ll try it. Are we finished?”

  “You’re going to be okay April. Try writing. It may be a really good outlet. See you at the same time tomorrow.”

  Chapter 4

  Logan I felt like I was operating like a machine. My life had always been on the run. I never learned how to form lasting connections with people. I’m not even sure I wanted to do that. Everything around me told me that when you let people in, you’re setting yourself up to get hurt. My birthday was coming up soon, and for the first time I could actually celebrate it. It’s the second birthday I have had in this house, but I didn’t want to do anything for the first one. Old habits die hard I guess.

  After the final incident that landed me in the hospital, I was forced to start seeing the counselor at school. Something about lasting trauma and the negative impact it could have on my future. I think it was more the fact that they thought I could snap at any given moment and unleash the anger that has been trying to claw its way out of me.

  It was Monday. Another beginning to a week of school, homework, and pretending to be something I wasn’t. I walked to the end of the street like I did every school day. I passed by the same houses and the same rocks. I wondered if it’s this unified everywhere. One of the things that I hated about living here was that all the houses looked alike. Seriously. The only variance was whether it’s a one story or two story house. All the colors were similar, same tile roof, same rock landscaping. Every once in a while you came across grass, not real grass, but the fake stuff they use on golf courses.

  I made it to the end of the block and leaned against the wall. With my eyes closed, I could sense everyone around me staring. I wish I could say this was a new development but it had been happening for a long time. I was an enigma.

  According to the whispers from girls, I’m good looking, smart, and fit. I could have easily slid into popularity, but what’s the point? I know I’m the only one who thought like this, but when you have one parent trying to kill you and the other parent MIA most of the time, trivial popularity is the least of your worries.

  I heard a group of girls making fun of someone who was making her way to the bus stop. Apparently it was a new girl. Why it was a huge spectacle is beyond me. I cracked an eye to see what the fuss was about, and I felt my face betray my closed off exterior by smiling.

  The girl in front of me was about 5 foot 3 inches and was clearly trying to make a statement with what she was wearing. That’s the one good thing about Vegas, you can be you, and though people may pass judgment, you’re not called names. She was wearing these black skinny jeans, black converses, one laced pink and one laced lime green. She had this pink and green star belt on, the belt buckle forming ‘whatever’, and a lime green tank underneath a hot pink shirt that had been cut, tied, and holed.

  It wasn’t a trashy look by all means, just different. It’s the shirt you have to make to achieve its individuality. Her skin was a soft caramel, her uniquely beautiful face framed with burgundy shoulder length hair, but the thing that pulled it all together was her honey brown eyes. They spoke volumes. I was immediately intimidated by her. Those eyes could see right through me. A blush was p
eaking behind her high cheek bones, and a small smile was being formed by her pink lips.

  I was in trouble. She started walking towards me, and I couldn’t help but get nervous. I had talked to other girls before, but not girls like her. She was something else entirely, and we were either going to be great friends or the worse enemies.

  “Hey. I’m Deandra.” “Logan. I’m guessing you’re new here?”

  “Yeah. Is it that obvious?”

  “Well if I saw you at the school, no probably not, but you’re new to the bus scene.”

  The bus scene? Really Logan, could you be any lamer? It got her to laugh, and wow, she had the straightest, whitest teeth I had ever seen. I had a feeling that this girl was like me on so many levels. Where I hid behind my wall, she hid behind this image she created. The ‘whatever’ of her belt buckle screamed she actually cares when she tried so hard to pretend she didn’t.

  “The bus scene? That’s hilarious. You just know I’m new because you have never seen me on the bus?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean all the people who have cars pick up their friends. Only a few people still ride the bus. Obviously we’re not in with the popular crowd. They wouldn’t be caught on the bus.”

  “Good to know. So Logan, what’s your story, why are you slumming it?”

  Why did she assume that I was slumming it? Did I just seem like one of the popular kids or something? No. She is totally mistaken.

  “I’m not slumming it. I’ve ridden the bus since day one, and that was about 3 years ago.”

  Wow. It had been three years since we moved into this house. Three years since my dad went to jail. Three years in Vegas, and I have nothing to show for it. No friends, a few acquaintances maybe, but no friends.

  “Oh, well umm, the way you look, I just assumed you belonged to the popular crowd.”

  “I get that a lot, especially when I first moved into this district. I’m not like them, there are bigger problems than high school politics.”

  “You know Logan, I think this is the start to a beautiful friendship.”