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Chapter Five
Isabel
August 23rd…
Mom and I are settled in our new place, everything finally put away. Including the new items I had to purchase when the airline lost my luggage. They assured me they’d find and return it, but I’m still waiting. I’m pretty sure it’s gone forever, and while it sucks, I knew there wasn’t anything in there that couldn’t be replaced. Thankfully, it wasn’t a lot. The small amount of makeup I wear, a razor, shampoo, conditioner, a hairdryer, toothbrush, and toothpaste.
My clothing and souvenirs were in my suitcase, which survived the trip. I would have been devastated to lose those. Not because I’m materialistic but due to what they represented. The white sundress I’d worn the day Parker and I made love. The t-shirt I’d stolen of his. The stuffed bear he won for me at Game On, a shop full of games, both carnival and pinball alike, that caters to adults and kids alike, making it a fun place for all ages.
I could easily envision Parker and I returning there with our children, Sizzle Beach becoming a yearly trip.
Unfortunately, I was alone in that dream.
Parker never called me. Was it all a lie? Is the decade between us too insurmountable in his eyes?
Each morning I’d pray it would be the one he’d reach out, that my loneliness would come to an end.
It didn’t. It actually grew worse. And when my period came, I was inconsolable. I knew the chance for pregnancy was slim, we were always so careful, but I also knew abstinence was the only means that was one hundred percent effective.
Cam and Tara threatened to maim him if they ever crossed paths and begged forgiveness for my pain, believing it was their fault my heart was broken. I assured them it wasn’t. It was Parker’s.
Mom has been great, letting me cry on her shoulder, offering to learn how to hack so she could infiltrate the hotel’s records and find out who he is, telling me it’s his loss.
If that’s true, then why does it feel like I’m the loser?
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After my shower, the water washing away the tears I can’t seem to keep at bay for long, I get dressed and remind myself that I need to move forward. I have no choice.
Today will require all my focus. It’s my first at my new position. I’ve gone in a few times the past week to set up my classroom, meet my fellow teachers, and such, so I know I’m as prepared as I can be.
I still haven’t met the principal, a Mr. Dwyer, as he never seemed to be there when I was. I’m assuming that’ll change now that school will officially be in session as of eight this morning and it’ll be all hands on deck.
Grabbing the tote my mom got me for graduation, the perfect way to carry the necessities to and from school, I tell her I’ll see her later and she wishes me good luck. I know she’s worried about me, and she has a right to be, so I force a smile and give a jaunty wave.
Her expression says neither were convincing.
Moms really do see and know all.
It’s a short drive, so I don’t have a lot of time to let my mind wander and heighten the anxiety already taking root inside me. It feels like this is a beginning, and I don’t mean just professionally. I haven’t felt like this since I was with Parker, which is silly because he’s not here and he never will be. He doesn’t want to be.
My heart, still stuck on him, gives a thump and my thigh twitches as if in agreement. Shortly after returning home, I’d done something so out of character for me. I got a tattoo. At the time, I imagined showing it to Parker after he called and I got to see him again. Pictured him kissing it, staring at it and what it represented as he made love to me with a passion that couldn’t be contained.
In a pretty red font, I had the coordinates for Sizzle Beach permanently etched on me and underneath them, the day Parker and I met.
I should go back and have them add another, the date when I realized he wasn’t going to contact me. That he didn’t feel what I did. It’d only be fitting that it had the two to represent life and death. The life I thought I’d have with him and the death of the same after I had to accept it wouldn’t happen.
I park and march up the steps via the entrance for employees and catch sight of a silhouette at the top. I see hands being shaken; friendly greetings given as well as introductions, letting me know this is the principal, and when I’m next, I almost turn around and run when I see his face.
It can’t be.
Fate can’t hate me this much.
What did I ever do to it? Is it because Mom snubbed her nose at it by fighting and conquering her disease? Because I applauded her efforts and urged her to never give up, to tell fate to shove it up her ass, that she couldn’t have my mom?
My pulse races and I try not to pass out from the emotions bombarding me. The main ones being anger and hurt.
He seems just as surprised as I am, but there’s happiness in his gaze, too.
