The Year We Became Invincible

by Mae Coyiuto

  “What if my mom insults his eye bags? What if she says he’s short? What if my dad doesn’t talk to him? What if…” I ranted.

  “Camille! I’m sure it’s going to be fine.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because if he likes you as much as you like him, he’s going to put up with it.”

  I sighed and fell back on her bed.

  “Do you love him?” Jenny asked.

  Then my phone rang.

  “Is that him? Oh my god! It’s one!” Jenny said.

  It was Ian.

  “Don’t pick up the phone! Don’t pick up until I sing you happy birthday and we stuff each other’s faces with cake. Boyfriend or not, I’m the best friend, and I’ve known you longer.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get to greet me first.”

  “You can call and talk to him for hours later. Oh, and tell him congratulations on the scholarship for me.”

  “What scholarship?” I asked.

  “The one from the University of Virginia. My cousin told me that their principal made a huge deal out of it and announced it during assembly.”

  I tried not to think of college ever since the Berkeley results came out. I’ve never heard Ian talk about Virginia. I didn’t even know that he applied.

  “Oh, Camille, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up college…”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m fine…”

  “Okay, I’m going to get the cake. Wait here.”

  I could feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, and I let it ring. Why didn’t he tell me?

  Looking forward to meet you,

  Camille

  Dear Future Partner,

  People say that your 18th birthday is a turning point. It’s the time when you transition from a kid to an adult. If this is what being an adult is like, I’d rather stay a kid forever.

  When I have something on my mind, I have this reflex where I blurt everything out. I hate that this reflex happens a lot, and I hate that it happened a lot today. I was with Ian on the way home when it first happened.

  “Why didn’t you pick up your phone last night?” he asked.

  I was thinking about it the whole day. It was like a monster growing inside of me.

  “Scholarship!” I blurted out.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you applied for the scholarship?”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Yes. That!”

  “I didn’t apply for it. One of my teachers nominated me I guess, and she forced me to fly out there for a weekend for some interview. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal, Ian! I looked up this Jefferson scholarship online, and you get free tuition for all four years. You get priority course registration, special advisors, and I even saw that the school sponsors a trip for all scholars during their junior year.”

  “I’m not going to take it, Cam.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know I don’t want to go to college. I’m not the type of person who goes to college. The education system is so suffocating and rigid. I go with the flow, live impromptu. It’s not for me.”

  “But…”

  “Cam, it’s your day. Can we please…drop it for now?”

  I let it pass, and we stayed silent until we arrived at the house.

  Mom was nice. Like really nice. She made compliments that actually sounded sincere.

  “Thanks for inviting me to your home, Mrs. Li.” Ian said.

  “Of course. Camille’s friends are always welcome here.”

  “I’m sorry I wish I wore something more formal…”

  “Nonsense. You look very dignified. Oh no, where did you get that bruise? Are you hurt?”

  “It was a small accident ma’am. It’s better than it looks.”

  “Okay. Just tell me if you need anything for it.”

  Nikki was…well, Nikki.

  “So you’re the boy.”

  “I hope so,” Ian smirked.

  Nikki looked at him up and down. She passed by me and whispered, “The tall one was cuter.”

  We sat around the table, and I saw it was set for five. I half-hoped that Lea was going to be there. Everything was very pleasant at first.

  “So Ian, are you a senior in high school, too?” my mom asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What do you plan to do after school?” my dad asked.

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Ian got a scholarship to the University of Virginia,” I blurted out. There came the reflex.

  “Cam…don’t…” Ian said.

  “Wow. That’s great! Congratulations, Ian.” Mom said.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Li. I don’t plan on going there though.”

  “Why not?” Dad asked.

  “I don’t plan on going to college, sir.”

  “Not go to college? How are you going to get employed? There is no future without a good education.”

  “Henry. Don’t interrogate the boy,” Mom said.

  “It’s okay, ma’am. I’m not sure yet, sir. I’ll figure it out.”

  “You do know that Camille plans on becoming a doctor.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And she plans to go to Berkeley this fall.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve heard the plan.”

  “So tell me, Ian. What is a boy with no plans for his career and education doing with my daughter? Is he still figuring it out?”

  Jenny was wrong. It wasn’t fine. It was worse than what I expected.

  “Dad! You can’t talk to him like that!”

  “Why not? You’re my daughter. When my daughter brings a boy home, I have the right to talk to him. What are you doing hanging around with someone like him?”

  “His name is Ian, and he can hear everything you’re saying!”

  “He has no drive, no ambition. You’re getting ready to go to Berkeley and all he’s going to do is hold you back. He doesn’t fit your standards, Camille.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong about my standards, Dad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t pass Berkeley.”

  “What do you mean you didn’t pass?” My dad’s voice boomed.

  He stood up so quickly that his chair fell over. His fingers started punching on his phone like crazy.

  “What are you doing?”

  “My friend in the hospital gives lectures in the university…I’m going to pull some strings to get you in the chemistry program…”

  “Dad! Stop! I don’t want to study chemistry.”

  “What do you mean? It’s the major that gives you the best training for med school…”

  “Maybe, I don’t want to become a doctor…”

  “What do you mean you’re not going to be a doctor? Is this because of him?”

  “No, Dad. It’s what I think.”

  “So what’s the plan now? Are you not going to college like him?”

  “I…I don’t know what I’m going to do yet…”

  “I did not raise you to give up everything for a boy. What happens when he leaves you? What are you going to do?”

  “You don’t even know him!”

  “Oh, I know boys like him.”

  “You don’t know what he’s been through! His mom beats him!”

  “What?” Mom asked shocked. “Your mom? Are you sure?”

  “I’m…I’m sorry I have to go…” Ian said. He got up from his chair.

  “Ian!” I called out.

  “You’re not allowed to leave the table until dinner’s over,” Dad said sternly.

  I pushed my plate off the table, and the rest of my family jumped when it crashed.

  “It’s over,” I said as I left and went after Ian.

  “Ian!”

  He didn’t answer and got in his car. I opened the car door and sat on the passenger seat.

  “Ian, I’m so sorry…”

  He wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the road with his hands clutching the whe
el.

  “My dad is never like that…I promise…” I went on.

  “How many people have you told?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Did you tell Jenny? Does your whole school know?”

  “About what?”

  “About my mom, Cam.”

  “I didn’t think about it when I told them, Ian…”

  “You can’t toss around other people’s sad stories like they’re your own.”

  “I didn’t mean to…”

  “You don’t know my mom. You don’t know what I’ve been through. You don’t know what it’s like…”

  “I know I don’t know what it’s like. I’m trying to know, Ian. Can’t we go somewhere and talk?”

  “I don’t want to talk! Don’t you get it?” he shouted.

  I wanted to say something back, but I was trying my best to hold back my tears.

  “Shit…I’m sorry Cam…I shouldn’t have yelled. I don’t want to do this, not on your birthday…”

  And I said, “I love you, Ian.”

  “You should…You should go back and celebrate with your family…. Tell your parents thanks for dinner and sorry that I had to leave early.”

  I didn’t want to answer. I was afraid that the tears were going to pour out of me once I opened my mouth.

  He got something out of his pocket and handed me a small box.

  “I’m sorry if it doesn’t look exactly like the original. Happy birthday, Cam.”

  I held the box and climbed out of the car.

  “I’ll call you later,” he said.

  I nodded and watched him drive off. I opened the box and it was a bracelet with the letters “Invincibles” on it. It looked exactly like the ones I gave during the Apocalypse party. It had a tag that said, “Ready.”

  I walked in to my parents. Then my dad saw me.

  “I called Teacher Jessie. She told me you’re not in her studio anymore. Did you quit because of him?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it…” I said as I started climbing up the stairs. I stopped when I heard Dad smash one of the vases in the living room.

  “What the hell is the matter with you? Did he tell you to quit?”

  “All my life, I’ve done everything you told me to, Dad. Why is it never enough?”

  “You think he’s worth losing everything—everything we worked hard for? Do you think that boy loves you? He’s trash! What you have is puppy love—that’s not real!”

  “How do you know? You don’t even love your own wife!”

  Remember when I told you that me not wanting to go to practice years ago was the angriest I’ve ever seen Dad? Erase that. His face at that moment was THE angriest I had ever seen Dad. And I felt the same amount of anger.

  “How dare you talk to me like that…You can never see that boy again, understand?”

  “Henry! You’re only going to push her away! Do you want Camille to end up like Lea?” my mom interrupted.

  My dad always stood fifty feet tall in my mind. He was my hero—the ideal of all I ever wanted to be. It only took one night to shatter this illusion. I was mad at my dad. I was mad at Lea. All the chaos in the house started when she left. Why hasn’t she called? Why wasn’t she here for my birthday?

  I was also mad at Ian. It’s one thing to not say those three words back and it’s another to treat it like they were nothing. The truth that hurts was what we really need to hear. That’s what he told me. I love him and god, did it hurt.

  If it was just puppy love, why does it feel so real? Dad might be right about one thing. Maybe, I don't know what real love is.

  I couldn’t sleep that night. No one called. Not Lea. Not even Ian.

  Looking forward to meet you,

  Camille

  Dear Future Partner,

  I felt like the world was at a standstill. If I wasn’t thinking about Ian, I was thinking about Dad. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. The fact was—despite the pain, the hurt you feel, the world wouldn’t stop because of your problems. No matter how much you felt like it did.

  Screaming and shouting was not the worst thing you can do to someone you cared about. Shutting people out stung so much more. Since my birthday, Ian had not texted or called. I wasn’t sure if I should be worried or if I should give him space. I was really clueless about these things. My dad had not said a word to me, too. I was still mad at my dad, but I also wanted him to, at least, acknowledge me. I was full of mixed emotions.

  Mr. Terrell wanted all of us to meet up with him individually before graduation. Why couldn’t he be more like a normal teacher?

  “Camille!” he said spreading his arms out. I really wasn’t in a mood for a hug, so I sat down on the bean bag.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Excited for graduation?”

  I shrugged.

  “You’re awfully quiet. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Why did everyone always assume there’s something wrong when I was quiet? What if I just didn’t feel like talking? What if there was nothing for me to say that would make the situation any better? Why was it so imperative to infuse silence with words that were meaningless?

  I nodded.

  “So, what does the future have in store for Camille Li?”

  “Didn’t pass Berkeley.”

  “Oh, Camille…I’m so sorry. You know college admissions are so cutthroat now…”

  I interrupted him and said, “We don’t have to talk about it. I’m fine.”

  “Okay. If that’s what you want. So what’s the plan for the future?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Camille, I know this isn’t what you expected. But there are other options, other great chances that you’re more than ready to take on. Don’t let this setback make you give up on your future.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Terrell, but why should I have a plan for the future when all plans eventually fall apart?”

  “Not all plans fall apart.”

  “Say for example. I had a plan to go to Antarctica. I invest a lot of hope, money, and time on it; and then it doesn’t push through. All that planning is all for nothing—a complete disappointment.”

  “Do you want to consider schools in Antarctica? I can look into that for you.”

  “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

  “What are you trying to say, Camille?”

  “Why do I have to be the practical one? I’m a teenage girl. I have all the raging hormones that make me think that everything is the end of the world. Why can’t I be like other girls and just concern myself with boys and not worry about the future until it actually happens?”

  “Because you’re not like any other girl, Camille. You’re an Aries—the leader. If you’re going to give up on your future now, you’re going to waste that, you understand?”

  I sighed and sunk back into the bean bag.

  “I know, I know. What in the world do I know, right? I’m just giving you my advice, and it’s your choice if you want to take it. I’ve made you a list of other options here in case you want to check them out,” he said as he handed me a thick blue folder. On the cover was a picture of a cat wearing a toga.

  “Thanks, Mr. Terrell.”

  “Cheer up Camille. It’s a good month for the Aries.”

  When I got home, I was desperate to distract myself from thinking about Dad and Ian. I was so deperate that I decided to check out the blue folder that Mr. Terrell gave me. The first page was another cat wearing a toga, but this one was holding a diploma (was it even possible for cats to hold things with their paws?), with the caption: "ConCATulations! You're almost done!" That was the worst pun yet.

  Then I saw the "Future" assignment that I filled out all those months ago.

  MY FUTURE

  Name: Camille Li

  Age: 17

  Astrological Sign: Aries

  College picks: UC Berkeley

  10 years from now, I want to be: a doctor, married with two ki
ds

  I grabbed my pen and crossed out all of my answers except for the name and astrological sign. 10 years from now, I want to be… What do I want to be? I used to have a clear picture in my head of what that would look like. I also had a clear picture in my head of what you would be like.

  I always fantasized that you would have this name that sounded straight out of a Jane Austen novel (definitely a far cry from Camille Li). Who wouldn’t fall in love with a guy named Mark Darcy and the prospect of having a surname as pretty as Darcy? You would be good-looking, but not too good-looking that people would always wonder why we’re together. You would not be into sports, especially basketball, but you would leave the impression of someone who goes to the gym daily. You would obviously be a great dancer and have a heartbreaking voice that you can whip out and serenade me with. You would not be a slacker, but you would be so driven, and you would have a quirky job like working in Disneyland or owning your own bakery. I’ve always loved this fantasy of you. But as I think about this image in my head, it doesn’t really remind me of anyone I know. This image doesn’t remind me of my dad, Felix, and it certainly doesn’t remind me of Ian. This fantasy I have of you feels like that—a fantasy.

  I wish there were some way that I can meet you or some way that you can answer all these letters that I’ve been addressing to you. Actually, I don’t care if I don’t get to see you in person, I just want to know that you exist. I want you to tell me that in the distant future that we will someday share together, everything will be okay. Because with everything that has been happening, I’m not sure if I can distinguish which is imaginary and which isn’t anymore. And that completely, utterly terrifies me.

  Looking forward to meet you,

  Camille

  Dear Future Partner,

  I’m still not sure how I feel about what I saw earlier tonight. It was after dinner, and I was going to the kitchen to get a glass of water, when I saw my parents in the living room. They weren’t shouting. My mom was holding my dad’s hand and my dad was…crying. It was the first time I had ever seen my dad cry. I could hear my dad say:

  “What did I do wrong, Karen? Why do my daughters hate me?”