Swept Away

by Melanie Matthews

  “You’re not?” He sounds skeptical.

  “Nope,” I say, still fumbling with the combination. I realize that it’s not my locker.

  “Oh, well, that’s good. What is your next class? Mine’s English.”

  What did he do? Plan out all this?

  “Me too,” I say, giving up on the locker, whoever it belongs to.

  “Could I walk with you, there? I don’t know where it is.”

  I hesitate, and then say, “Sure, whatever.”

  I walk fast towards English class, but damn if he doesn’t keep up! When we enter, I notice that there are seating arrangements, alphabetical. I sit behind Alejandro, and Gabriel sits behind me, like in History. I never knew Senior Year was going to be this hard. And it’s only the first day!

  Alejandro kisses me, again. I tolerate it. Camilla is already seated. I avoid looking at her, across the room. I feel like I’m going mad. I feel like a mermaid that’s on dry land. I want to be submerged under water again. At least there, drowning, I know my fate.

  I lean forward and tap Alejandro on the shoulder. He turns around and smiles.

  “Alejandro, I don’t think we should kiss…anymore.”

  He’s speechless, and then finding his voice, he says, “How long is ‘anymore’? What’s wrong?”

  “I just think that we’re moving a bit too fast. Let’s be friends, okay?”

  He clinches his jaw. He’s mad. I know what he’s thinking before he even says it.

  “What we did…in my car…”

  “I know, I know, and it shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry. I’m not ready. Please, give me some time.”

  He briefly closes his eyes. He forces a smile. “Okay, Daria. I’ll wait.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  Alejandro turns away from me. Gabriel is silent. I wish, right now, to submerge below the water, to feel the pressure of its density upon my shoulders, to push me down to its depths. I know my fate, there, in that dark realm.

  Family Ties

  It’s dark. The lights are out. We’re watching a documentary on American poets. I’m lost in Emily Dickenson when I feel a warm breath in my ear.

  “Daria,” it whispers.

  I turn around, but Gabriel is looking away, at the TV. He turns and catches my eyes. He smiles.

  “Why do you smell like sun-baked sand?” I ask.

  I hear a “Shush!” but I don’t relent, focusing on Gabriel.

  “Why?” I ask again, this time in a whisper.

  He leans forward. We’re face to face. “Why do you smell like the ocean?”

  “I do?”

  He nods and smiles. “It’s intoxicating, the salt.”

  “I smell like salt?” This conversation got weird, quick.

  He licks his lips. “Yes, Daria, saltwater—I could swim in you.”

  I stare into his blue eyes. “No, it’s you I could get lost in.”

  The rest of the world has dissolved away. It’s only Gabriel and I—until I’m blinded by fluorescent lights. I’m at school, surrounded by students, by Alejandro, by Camilla.

  Camilla.

  Gabriel reaches out to take my hand.

  “No,” I say, and pull away. “No.”

  I flee and keep going, until I reach a secluded area of the school, a small L-shaped hall, dark. I press my body against the rough bricks. I imagine it is coral, and I’m in the ocean. I grind against the coral—welcoming the pain, the wounds, the blood. There are sharks in the water. Come and get me.

  “Daria,” he whispers.

  I open my eyes. “Gabriel.”

  He’s standing before me, exotic, arrogant, intoxicating.

  “Who are you?”

  “Gabriel Antonio del Castillo, at your service.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to come here.”

  “Why?”

  “I have relatives here.”

  “Who?” I ask, bewildered.

  “Your friend, Camilla—we’re cousins.”

  I’m speechless, and then I say, “Cousins?”

  “Distant,” he clarifies.

  “Does Camilla know?”

  “I think not. She hasn’t greeted me as family. I visited her father earlier, where he teaches at St. Francis. I was sure he would’ve told her, but…”

  “Why haven’t you introduced yourself to her?”

  “I’ve been distracted,” he says, smiling. He leans in. “Why do you smell like the ocean?”

  My heart is racing. “Why do you smell like sun-baked sand?”

  “Mysteries upon mysteries, Daria,” he says. “I’d like to get to know you.”

  I reach out and touch his arm, strong and warm. “I’d like that too.”

  “So, you’re not taken?”

  I’m confused. “Taken?”

  “The other boy I saw you kiss.”

  I note he says “boy” as if he were distinct from such a classification: a man, fully grown.

  “Oh? Alejandro? No, we’re just friends.”

  “You make a habit of kissing your friends?”

  “Sometimes,” I whisper.

  “I hope we’re friends.”

  I swallow, nervous. He wraps his arm around my waist, pressing me against his chest.

  “You’re smooth, Spaniard, I’ll give you that.”

  “I’ve had years to practice,” he says, brushing his warm lips against mine.

  I smile against his lips. “You’ve been kissing girls since when? You can’t be but seventeen.”

  “Does age matter to you?” he asks, seriously.

  “When I first saw you, at the beach, I thought you were older. You look…older.”

  He lets go of me. “You have no idea.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Goodbye, Daria,” he says, and walks away.

  I dare not call out, saying goodbye. Damn you, Gabriel, who are you?

  I sit next to Camilla at lunch, with Tony and Alejandro.

  “Where’d you go?” she says. “You just fled.”

  “I wasn’t feeling well, but now I’m better. Um, Camilla, I ran into that new guy, Gabriel.”

  “Yeah, what?” she asks.

  I glance at Alejandro. He looks jealous.

  I focus on Camilla. “He said you two were cousins—that he told your dad, but didn’t feel right introducing himself as family, nervous, I guess, or waiting on your dad to reveal the news.”

  “Wow! Really?” she says. “I caught him staring at me, today, but I just thought, you know…” she trails off.

  “Who was staring at you?” Tony demands.

  Camilla waves a dismissive hand. “We’re cousins, no big deal.”

  Tony spreads his hands. “No big deal?”

  “I saw him looking at you,” Alejandro says to Camilla. He looks at me. “I saw him looking at you too.”

  “We’re just friends,” I say, defensive.

  “That was fast,” says Alejandro.

  “It’s no big deal,” I say, echoing Camilla—only we’re not relatives.

  “No big deal,” Alejandro and Tony say in unison.

  Camilla gives them a dismissive wave and turns back to me. “I’ll talk to papa. He’s so forgetful, though, so I can’t blame him for not telling me Gabriel is my cousin. We’ll have to have a cookout or something. You’ll come, of course,” she says to me.

  “Of course,” I say, not sure.

  I stare into Camilla’s eyes. They are the same shade as Gabriel’s. How can the color blue be so inviting, yet so dangerous?

  This Magic Moment

  Lunch is over. We’re going our separate ways to our next class. Alejandro gives me a quick kiss on my cheek.

  “Friends,” he says, explaining his actions. “Friends kiss on the cheek.”

  I hold his hand. “They do other things, too, Alejandro, but…not us.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?” He grips my hand tight.

  “You’re hurting me.”

&nbs
p; He lets go. “Sorry, Daria, I…” He trails off, and leaves, anguished.

  I make my way to Computer Science. My steps are quick, as if speed will help quell the riot in my mind, then I come to a halt, seeing Frankie.

  “Hello, Daria,” he greets me with a wicked grin.

  He’s blocking my path. “Get out my way, Frankie. I’m not in the mood.”

  He smirks. “You were always in the mood, when you were with me.”

  “That was in the past.”

  “And now you’re with that spic?”

  “I’m not with anyone, and don’t call him that.”

  He leans in close. “C’mon, Daria, stop being an idiot and take me back.”

  “I forgot how romantic you were,” I say, dryly. “What’s wrong with Vicki?”

  He shakes his head. “We’re just having fun.” He reaches around and grabs my behind. “You know I’ve always loved you, Daria.”

  “Get your hand off me,” I demand.

  A teacher passes by and he releases me. “Why do you have to be such a bitch? You’re screwing that spic, aren’t you?”

  “You can go screw yourself, now let me pass.”

  When he doesn’t allow me to leave, I push him aside. He grabs me by the shoulders, pinning me against the wall. He tightens his grip.

  “I could hurt you, right here, right now. I’ll never leave any bruises.”

  “You must have improved your beating techniques, then,” I say, fierce, but afraid.

  He releases one of my shoulders to reach into his back pocket. He produces a switchblade. The blade pops out near my eye. He always had the weapon on him, but never threatened me with it—until now.

  “You’re going to cut me, here?” My heart is racing. “I’ll scream.”

  “Like you scream with that spic, his dirty little dick inside you?”

  I swing my knee up and slam him in the crotch. Frankie doubles over and I escape. I’m near tears when I enter the classroom, falling into my chair.

  I’m crying now, of joy and sorrow. He’s here.

  “Daria, what’s wrong?” Gabriel asks, sitting beside me.

  I wipe my tears away. “Nothing,” I lie.

  “You’re lying. What can I do?”

  “You can leave me alone.”

  The teacher is absent, so a substitute is filling in. We’re playing video games on the computer, today. I feel like I’ve been in a game myself, and I don’t know the rules.

  I look over at Gabriel. He’s playing Solitaire.

  “Can I watch you?” I ask.

  He smiles. “Me or the game?” he asks.

  “The game,” I say. And you, always you.

  He invites me over. I slide my chair next to his. His scent is intoxicating.

  I rest my head on his shoulder. “Who are you, Gabriel?”

  He removes his hand from the mouse, resting it on my knee. “Do you believe in fate? Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? Our lives are preordained and nothing we do can alter our future?”

  “You’re very philosophical,” I say, not answering the question.

  “Do you think everyone has a soulmate?” he asks.

  “It sounds great, the idea, but I don’t know.”

  He turns his head, brushing his lips across forehead. He kisses me. “When I look into your eyes, Daria, I see your soul. It’s intertwined with mine. And I know that our bond will never be bent, broken, or destroyed.”

  “Are all Spaniards, poets?” I tease, yet long to hear more.

  “Are you mocking me?”

  “No, I’m just afraid.”

  “Of me?” he asks.

  “No, I’m afraid you’ll leave me.” I look up, into his eyes. “You have the most beautiful blue eyes.”

  He looks into mine. “I’ve only seen one other with eyes as green as yours. Have you ever seen a leaf after a rain? How the droplets glisten? Your eyes are so beautiful. Do you believe in magic?”

  “Who has eyes like me?” I ask, feeling jealous.

  His face changes, his feelings receding. His hand leaves my knee. “Someone I loved, long ago.”

  I lift my head from his shoulder. “Do you like me, only because I remind you of her?” I surmise, pained.

  He hesitates, and then says, “No.” He pauses, and then continues, “I’ve been watching you, for some time. You mentioned seeing me at the beach. I admit that I was there for other reasons. When I saw you, I…knew my fate had changed. I followed you to the park. I was there when you were shopping, at the bowling alley. I had to see you, to know you.”

  “Were you making me sick? How? I felt like every time you were near, I was drowning. Now, I don’t. Was that you?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Daria, I don’t know. I merely observed you, nothing more. I...”—he smiles—“I didn’t put a spell on you, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Oh, really, because I think you have, Gabriel.”

  “As have you,” he accuses, smiling.

  The bell rings.

  “Let me guess,” I say, gathering my backpack. “You’re off to Economics?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I’m psychic.”

  We talk together to our last class.

  Have you planned this, Gabriel, from the beginning? Are you a liar? Or are you my destiny?

  When we reach the classroom, I see the desks are in groups of four—and alphabetical. I’m at a table with Emily Gordon and some other guy. It could be worse. Gabriel sits across from me.

  “Did you know that ‘Castillo’ is Spanish for ‘Castle’?” he says.

  “Yes,” I say. “Why?”

  “I’m just making a connection, that’s all.”

  A connection—forged in fate, or spun in sorrow?

  “What are you hiding?” I blurt out.

  “We all have our secrets, Daria,” he says. He leans in close. “What does ‘the answer is in the fountain’ mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Alive, Dead, Alive, Bastard

  Class is over before I know it. The school day is over. My life is over. Yes, I’m being dramatic, but I know that Gabriel and I will depart, until we meet again, tomorrow. Will we? I wonder. Is he just a dream? Am I in a dream?

  I have a shadow. Gabriel is walking behind me, outside, across the parking lot, where I’m to meet Camilla. The shadow is beside me, now.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’m walking, isn’t that obvious?”

  “You’re following me.”

  “I don’t need to follow you. I’ll always find you.”

  I laugh. “Oh, I forgot, our souls are intertwined. We’re fated.”

  “You mock me, again.”

  “Did she mock you, this mysterious girl with green eyes?”

  I see him raise a hand, waving. I look in his direction, and see Camilla, waving back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to introduce myself to Camilla, my cousin, if you don’t mind.”

  We walk in silence. I’m on edge. I notice Frankie, getting out of his car, and approaching Alejandro. Vicki and Emily are trailing behind.

  “Oh, no,” I say, now starting to run.

  “What?” Gabriel says, keeping pace with me.

  “Frankie, he’s got a knife.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He threatened me with it, earlier today.”

  “What?” Gabriel growls.

  We make it there, just when Frankie sneaks up behind Alejandro.

  “Hey, spic, Daria is mine!”

  The switchblade pops out.

  “No!” I scream, rushing to save Alejandro.

  I’m too late. The blade pierces flesh, but it’s not Alejandro. Frankie stabs Gabriel, intervening. Gabriel cries out in pain, blood gushing. He clutches his side, and falls to the ground.

  I rush over to him, my mind a whirl of emotions: fear, anger, sorrow.

  “Gabriel?” I say, looking into his ey
es.

  His eyes are closed, its blue depths hidden. His chest rises, and then falls. He’s dead.

  I hear screaming. It isn’t me. I’m silent. Frankie has taken off, his car making tracks. Vicki is running after his car, Emily following. I hope they fall. Camilla is calling 911. Students are surrounding the scene. Tony is securing the area. Alejandro is by my side, his hand on Gabriel.

  I feel water on my face. I think I’m about to drown, but I’m only crying.

  My hand is on Gabriel’s chest, his heart. It’s still—then a beat. Another beat—then another. His chest is rising, falling. He opens his eyes.

  “Gabriel?” I’m crying with joy.

  His blue, mysterious eyes meet mine. He looks…worried? I’m confused.

  In a flash, he’s off the ground, standing erect.

  “You’re alive,” I say, in disbelief.

  “Of course, I am,” he says, in a tone, as if I’m stupid.

  I’m speechless, confused, until I find my voice. “You got stabbed. You were bleeding. Your heart stopped.”

  I reach to lift up his shirt, but he pushes my hand away.

  “I’m fine, leave me alone.”

  “Let me see,” I insist, tugging on his shirt.

  He grabs my wrist, rough, and says through clinched teeth, “I said, leave me alone.”

  He storms off and flies away in his car.

  “What the hell is his problem?” says Alejandro, his arm around my waist, securing me to him.

  I lean into him, an anchor, in this sea of uncertainty.

  It’s Complicated

  Alejandro drives me home. No one is there. There’s a note on the fridge. My mom is out, grocery shopping.

  “Looks like we have the place to ourselves…if you want to stay,” I say to Alejandro.

  “I’ll stay, if that’s what you want.”

  I lean my head against his chest. “Yes, stay.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “He was dead. He saved my life.”

  I shudder. “I know.” I pause, and then say, “Let’s go to my room.”

  “Your parents…”

  “You can sneak out my window.”

  “But my car’s outside. They’ll know I’m here.”

  I guide him to the couch, instead. I straddle his lap. “Hold me,” I say, securing my head in the crook of his neck.