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As soon as we start our new schools,Gabe falls in with the wrong circles. It starts slowly, but after a few weeks, I notice him coming home drunk. He also starts smoking more and fighting. Every few days, he has a new bruise. And he refuses to tell me where they come from. He gets into trouble so often that I wouldn't be surprised if the law enforcement officers know our address by heart. He also has new friends, shady people who look like they are members of a local gang.
I hear the familiar sound of a car door slamming and look out the window to see my brother exiting a police car yet again. "Gabe, this has to stop." I beg as I open the door for him.
"It's fine," he slurs as he brushes past me. He walks into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and drinks some milk directly from the carton. "Here," I say, offering him a glass from the draining board.
"Funny, you never used to mind me drinking from the carton. I guess you’re too good for me now, aye Mr. Perfect," he replies, tone laced with venom.Perfect, he has no idea how hard I have to work to be ‘perfect’. The hours I spend studying, the time I spend trying to help around the house, terrified that if I slip and show how broken I really am, the Jacksons won't want me anymore.
"Well, maybe because we never had any goddamn milk. And when we did, I was just grateful to have a drink that hadn't already gone off," I snap back. This seems to shock him slightly back to reality. "I’m sorry Nate" he sighs, rubbing his hand across his face. "It's not your fault we had a shitty life. I'm glad you're doing better now" he says, ruffling my hair.
"You could have a good life too, Gabe, if you just tried."
"I know, I know," he admits. Pouring us both a glass of milk and sitting down at the table.
We talk. I cry, telling him how his bad attitude and habits make me feel; he apologizes and promises to change. Yet, the next day, the whole cycle begins again.
Things between him and the Jacksons go from bad to worse after he ‘borrows’ their car and ends up totaling it. Soon after,the Jacksons decided they’ve had enough. One night, when they assumed we were both asleep, I overheard them talking about wanting to search for another place that might be better suited for Gabe. Then the day after he turns eighteen, I come back from school to find him packing his bags, and then he's gone. Leaving me here all alone.
CHAPTER NINE
ISABELLA AGE 17
4.5 YEARS LATER
This moment is beyond bittersweet. I'm getting ready to board the plane, and finally, for the first time in four long years, I'm going back to my hometown. Well, actually, to my Nana and Pop's hometown, but it's the closest thing I've ever had to home. I've been dragged from town to town, from one school to the next, always going wherever my dad's job took us. His company likes to buy up businesses, renovate them, and then resell them. I don't really understand the point myself, but Dad enjoys it and makes good money, meaning Mom can continue her work as an artist wherever his job takes her.
On one hand, I'm finally getting what I have so desperately wished for the last few years. The only place I ever felt wanted. It took me a few years of begging and pleading, but I finally managed to get through to my parents. They agreed that I could go and live with Nana and Pops, so long as I finished my final year at school and kept my grades up. But on the other hand, I wish it was under better circumstances. When we got the call that Pops had been hospitalized, my parents agreed that it was time to return and help Nana care for him. I know this flight will be the biggest moment of my life. When I step off that plane, I'll be taking the first step into my new life. No longer will I be just a sad little puppet in my parents' world. Finally, for once, I will be where I want to be, doing what I want to do. I’ll have a chance at happiness, and I intend to grab it with both hands.
The first few months after I left, I tried to adjust to my new life. I wrote Nathaniel letter after letter, telling him about my new school. How mean some of the girls were, and about how lonely I felt being stuck at home all alone while my parents worked and networked to expand my mother's new client base. I told him in detail how much I miss him and how much I want to go live with my Nana and Pops. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, he never wrote back.
At first, I tried to justify it. Maybe he was sick? Or went away for a few weeks? Days and weeks passed by without an answer, and I had to finally accept that he had forgotten about me. Either that, or he no longer cares about me. I just don't understand why. What changed?!
When we came home for my first Christmas visit after the move, I hoped and prayed that Nathaniel would be waiting for me at our spot near the cabin.
I was excited and eager to visit him, hoping he’d give me some sort of explanation as to why he hadn’t written in the last few months since I moved away. Perhaps he’d lost my new address. But when I got there, I noticed the cabin looked bare and my letters were piling up untouched in the mailbox. In a moment of sheer desperation and hopelessness, I snuck up to his house, praying that I'd get the chance to see him before his father saw me, but that too looked different; the house never looked well-kept, but now it looks derelict, like a strong gust of wind would be enough to make the whole place crumble. I don't know how things could have changed so much in just a few months. It still blows my mind. After that, we moved too far away for me to fly back to Nana and Pops’ house every vacation, so I haven't had a chance to come home and visit anyone in a few years.
The following year, my first Christmas without them all, was the hardest. Mom and Dad were busy at company parties, getting cozy with potential new clients. Plus, I was the awkward new kid in school who had no friends. So while I saw and heard many of my peers and classmates making plans for the winter vacations, I spent most of the time alone. Either that, or I was made to dress up, smile, and nod along to show what a perfect little family we were.It made me sick, but like the perfect little daughter I am, I obliged.
I just wanted to be back home with my grandparents.Spending time with Nana making gingerbread houses anddrinking hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream.
Even now, all these years later, I still can't believe that he stopped answering my letters and didn't even bother to say goodbye or give me a reason why. Over the years, I’ve racked my brain time and time again. Remembering every little detail of the last time we were together, trying to figure out what went wrong. We had been best friends for almost a year and a half. We were completely inseparable; hardly a day went by that we didn't talk to each other in some way. Whether it was through writing and receiving letters or through the messages my grandparents relayed whenever they spoke to either of us.
I know I got him in trouble and caused a whole scene when I went to his house that day, but the next morning he seemed fine with me, so that can’t be why he's mad, can it? It also doesn't help that so many things still remind me of him.
But, over the years, the distance and time we have spent apart have gotten easier. I read somewhere that time heals all wounds; but if I'm honest, I just think it gets easier to live with the wounds over time. At least that's how it feels to me. I don't think I'll ever be able to get over Nathaniel. He was and always will be someone who holds an important place in my heart, someone whose absence has left me with a broken piece. Over time, I've learned to grow stronger thanks to that broken piece.
It hasn't stopped my mind from wondering what happened all those years ago. I've read and re-read his last letter so many times over the years that the pages are all creased and torn, hoping that it will shed some light on what happened. Had he been pulling away? Didn’t seem like it.
Did he say anything to let me know our friendship had become one-sided? Not that I can see.
Did he make any mention of another girl? Not once. So what happened?
How did he go from writing beautiful words like, "You’re my best friend", "You make me so happy", "I miss you so much when you're gone," and "I'm counting down the days until you come back" to just abandoning me? These questions have plagued my thoughts and dreams for years. But one way or another, I'm determined to get my answers. I don't want to believe that our whole friendship was a lie. He cared for me as much as I did for him. I know that, or at least I hope that, to my very core.
So, now, here I am, getting on the plane that will take me home, back to my hometown, back to a new school with an entire new set of people. But most importantly, I'm going back to find the boy I left behind.
Nathaniel Scott— the only boy whom I have ever loved, the boy who has dominated my heart and thoughts since the very first day we met.
CHAPTER TEN
