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Gavin
Thirteen years ago
“I’m sorry,Gavin. We just don’t have the money to let you fly back to Florida right now,” Mom says with a sad smile.
Although she is trying to empathize with me, she has no idea how I feel. And I don’t know what upsets me more—the fact I can’t fly back to see Cora or that Mom plays the I understand card. “But you promised, Mom,” I yell across the room, nails biting my palms.
“Don’t you take that tone with me. And I never promised you’d be able to fly back this summer. I said we would see. And it’s not possible right now. I’m sorry.”
I storm off to my bedroom, slam the door behind me and lock the handle. “I hate you!” I scream at the walls as I fist my hands in my hair.
“Gavin! Come back out here and apologize to your mother! Now!” Dad stands on the other side of the door, banging.
“Fuck you! Both of you!”
I pick up my desk chair and throw it across the room. One of the legs shatters on impact and I stare at the rubble. A moment later, I punch a hole in the wall beside my bed. Then I collapse on the bed and cry into the comforter.
I lay on my side and draw my legs to my chest. Hours pass and all I can do is lie here and cry. Cry until my eyes burn and my throat numbs. This is utter bullshit. They promised me I would be able to fly back to Florida during the summer. They promised I would be able to see Cora soon after we settled.
But their promises are lies.
It has been a fucking month. We are pretty fucking settled. Although, I don’t think I will ever settle here. Everything about this place feels like a death sentence. A prison cell keeping me away from the one person I want more than anything. And why did they make a promise they never had any intention of fulfilling? Just to pacify me? If that’s the case, I am more pissed.
Grabbing my phone from my back pocket, I call Cora. Hearing her will settle the anger inside me. Cora has always held the elixir to my soul.
“Hey, Gavin.” Her voice perky and happy when she answers. This is exactly what I need right now. Just her.
“Hey, baby. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. Did you talk to your parents? Are you flying back soon?”
The hope in her voice echoes through the line. And I hate that I am about to destroy it. Well, my parents are destroying it. But I am the bearer of the bad news, and I hate it more than anything. Hate that I can’t give her—us—better news.
“Yeah, I talked to them.”
“And?”
“And they said we don’t have the money right now. That there’s no way I can fly back this summer.”
“Oh,” she whispers. And the disappointment is evident in that single word. “Oh. Well, that sucks.”
“That’s putting it nicely. I told them I fucking hate them.”
We stay on the phone—silent—for a moment. She tries to muffle the sound, but I hear her crying. And my heart shatters further because there is not a goddamn thing I can do to make this better. I hate that I can’t be there with her. I hate how helpless I feel. That I have no way to console her. To hug her close and kiss her hair. Rub a hand up and down her back, over the back of her head as I press her to my chest. This whole situation is such fucking bullshit.
“Gavin?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Please don’t hate your parents. It’s your mom’s job that did this, not her specifically. Your Mom would never intentionally hurt you or us.” She chokes out the words and I hate that she is fighting her tears to say nice things about my parents.
But she is right and I know it. Though, I don’t know who else to blame for us moving so far away. I am drowning and no one is jumping in to save me. No one tosses me a life preserver.
“I don’t really hate them. It’s this whole situation that I hate. But I have no other way to express how it’s making me feel.”
Silence steals the air between us again. But the silence is not uncomfortable. Never has been with Cora. If anything, it calms me. Settles my soul. Gives a peace only she provides.
“Can we talk about something else? Anything else? I don’t care what it is,” she says. “Have you been to the beach out there yet?”
