My father revealing that he did not purposely match me with Felipe was a short-lived relief. It made me feel like my father had not gone too far off the deep end, and that he did love me in his own way. But what was the use now? When a Rodríguez had their claws inside of you, there was no letting go. As quickly as I’d praised my father, his name alone soured my stomach. He did not think Shio was good enough for me. He wanted me with my own kind or someone with fair skin. My papa had some nerve. Shio was good enough to hide me until he got a plan together, but that was it. My father had audacity.He was continuing to prove my thoughts about him to be factual.
“My cousin gone eventually have to marry. So you can sit in this bitch and sulk and rot. Or… You can fight back. You can fight that fuckin’ addiction. You can fight whatever is in your head saying shit that ain’t true. You can fight all them demons that’s up on you.
“Shit gonna be harder than a bitch. It’s gonna be painful too. It might damn near kill you. But seeing him walk another bitch down the aisle gone kill you for sure—no mights about that shit. You gonna be wishin’ you had of gotten your shit together so you can be the one. On foe ’nem.”
I heard a lighter flick, and then he pulled on what I assumed was marijuana, and seconds later, the potent funk confirmed it was.
“I looked up online that the best way to get a person off drugs was to not do drugs around them. But, shit… If you can’t handle a lil’ weed smoke, you ain’t gonna make it in this family anyway. We all get high as fuck, but on that green only.”
Weed didn’t bother me, nor did it make me cravecocaína(cocaine). I’d been craving it since before he slid open the door hatch, anyhow.
“You too young to be a powda head, Mexi-Mami.”
“I’m too young to be alone too,” I whispered.
“But you ain’t alone, though. Me and my cousins gonna be here with you every day, makin’ sure you straight. Ain’t nobody gonna violate you or mistreat you. We just want you to get better. We want you to get right. And when you get yo’ shit together, you just might have a chance to be with Shio.”
The burning of his weed sounded, and then the exhale of his lungs. “But sometimes, being alone ain’t a bad thing. It’s when you alone that you can truly hear your fuckin’ thoughts. Your wants. Your needs. Shit… God.”
“Si…” I choked as my eyes watered.
Closing them, I refused to let more tears fall. I was feeling so much and nothing at all. Lost, afraid, empty, craving, exhaustion, heartbroken—it was like feeling many terrible things at once and not being able to do anything about it.
“So, I’m in prison? I’m a… prisionera (prisoner).”
I could hear what sounded like him standing to his feet.
“We don’t fuck with twelve, Solana. Just think of this shit as a real nigga rehab.”
“Rehab?” I asked in a panicked tone.
I did not need rehab. I just needed to get one last hit and go back to only doing the drug when I partied. I only used it when I was stressed or when I felt that ache in my stomach. I was not addicted to the drugs.
“Don’t worry, our cousin Ezio had to go through this same shit. You gonna do better, though, cuz you got the younger generation watchin’ out for you. We gonna get you right, So-So. Eat up and get some rest. You in for a mean-ass rollercoaster.”
The door shut, and I stood up from the bed. Something hit the floor with a thud, and seeing that it was Shio’s cell phone, I snatched it up. My mouth went slack, and my head spun. They wouldn’t keep me in here, hoping I no longer craved thedrug, would they? I could get sick. I will get sick. They were not professionals. He sounded younger than I. What if I coded? I was locked in a room in a basement and could die if I coded!
Needing to feel something, I stumbled to the bathroom. The tile, cold beneath my feet, grounded me the way the pillow had. I flipped the light switch and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair needed brushing, the lazy ball I’d knotted at the top of my head leaning to the side. My eyes were puffy, my nose a reddish hue, and my lips cracked. Turning the faucet knob, water flowed from the spigot. Cupping my hands beneath, I filled them with water and splashed my face. Shio thought I was an addict. He had said it, too, but locking me in a room to cleanse the drugs from me wasn’t going to do anything.
I was not an addict.
I liked to use drugs when I was feeling stressed and when I needed to relax. That was it. It was no different than a person having an occasional cigarette or thecanabis(cannabis) they all smoked.
The water should have cooled my skin, but I was hot now. Feeling like I was suffocating, I removed the hoodie from my body and tossed it to the floor.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!”
Screaming did not help. Nothing would help. Removing my shirt didn’t make me feel any less warm. Pulling at my shorts, I plopped down on the toilet to relieve a bladder that was not full to begin with.
How long would he keep me here? A week? A month? A year?
Imposible. Él no lo haría.(Impossible. He wouldn’t.)
Looking down, I saw something brown sticking out of the sweatshirt I had just removed. Still planted on the toilet, I reached for the object. A withered, worn leather notebook that did not belong to me sat in my hands. I’d watched Shio write inthe bound book many times. I wondered what he wrote about on the days he said no more than two words to me. Now with it in my hands, I could see how worn and old it truly was. I flipped it, looking to see if a name was engraved or if the book was not bound to the leather covering.
When I had gone into Shio’s office to place the mail, the leather book called to me from his desk. I halted and thought quickly before leaving the office with the book and the mail. I did not know why I had put his notebook in my pocket, but I had, and now it was here, locked in the room with me.
Lifting the cover, I immediately slammed it back into place and tossed it back onto the floor. I did not care what was in the old notebook anymore. Shio’s thoughts no longer matter because I no longer matter to him. Italian made a good argument, but he hadn’t seen the fury in Shio’s eyes when he dragged me here. All I cared about was getting out of this room. I would figure everything else out when I was free.
