7. Gabriela
Chapter 7
Gabriela
O n the floor of the shower, I let it all out. I cry harder than I have in a long time, the emotions of the past few months tearing me apart. With Dad leaving, Mom is working herself into depression, and Mireya is struggling with being in a school program full time. And everything else falls on my shoulders—the daily home life, being my sister’s caregiver when I’m not in school. Can’t forget school—I'm trying so hard to keep my grades up so I graduate in June.
“Why me?” I whisper, hoping that something out there in the vast universe hears me and can give me answers. “I’m a good person. Why?” I pull my knees to my chest and let the water fall over me
Time slips away, and a rap on the door brings me back. “ Mija , I need to get going. Reya needs a bath tonight. I’ll be home before you leave for school in the morning.”
Her footsteps thud down the hall, and I am left alone. Like always. I turn the shower off and slide the door open, pulling a towel from the rack and wrapping it around myself. The warm water did little to wash away the overwhelming burden that consumes my life. I dry myself off and stare at my reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror. My eyes are red and puffy from crying, and I can see the exhaustion etched on my face. Graduation is just five months away, but it feels like an insurmountable goal amidst the chaos of my life.
Wrapping the towel tighter around me, I step out of the bathroom, greeted by the sound of Mireya giggling. Mom must have let her have her tablet while I finished up. It’s a familiar feeling to be left alone to take care of everything. While heading to my room, the reality of my situation becomes clear. I need to keep my grades up, not only for my future but also to make sure that I am set up in case Mireya needs me. June feels like a lifetime away, and I fear I may crumble under the pressure before then.
* * *
With Mireya fed, bathed, and in bed for the night, I scramble to finish up any remaining homework. I lay in bed reading my AP English required reading and jotting down notes on key points I think the teacher will bring up during class. I finish the chapter and get everything for tomorrow, my clothes set out, and my backpack ready to go. In the kitchen, I make Mireya’s lunch and set her clothes out. Sliding under the covers of my bed, phone in hand, I send a few texts to Cora and Nat.
Are you guys awake?
Natalie: Yep, I just finished my history report. I am about to go to sleep.
Cora: I just got home.
Oh? What did you do tonight?
Cora: Don’t be mad, but I went to a movie with Thiago.
Natalie: You didn’t!
It’s whatever, I guess.
I saw Joaquín today. He was working at the park, where the big playdate was supposed to be for Reya and the support group. He actually saved Reya from falling into a hole.
Natalie: He did?!
Cora: So he was nice to you?
No. He was sweet to her, but he made me feel bad about her running away from me. He told me I needed to watch her better.
Natalie: What a dick! Does he know she has autism? Or that you take care of her practically by yourself? Ugh, it makes me want to punch him in the nuts.
I’d pay good money to see that.
Natalie: I’d do it for free.
Cora: It’s so crazy that he’s treating you like this. I could have sworn that Thiago said Joaquín has the biggest crush on you.
Joaquín has a crush on me? That’s news to me. Well it doesn’t seem like he does anymore. I bet that all went away with all the bullshit that our parents pulled. Another thing Dad fucked up for me. I won’t lie, seeing him today in his work uniform, backward cap, and holding onto Mireya like she was something precious made my heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in my stomach.
That feeling quickly became guilt and nerves when he blamed me for not watching her carefully.
Yeah, well, he hates me now, so...
Cora: But what if he doesn’t?
Cora: What if he is still doing what dumb boys do when they have a crush? Pick on the girl they like.
Natalie: He’s taking the teasing too far, though, Cora.
Well, whatever it is, I’m so over it. I’m hoping Isaac will ask me out again. I’m supposed to go to the lacrosse game on Wednesday with Mireya to watch him play.
Natalie: *Kissy Face* Maybe he’ll really kiss you this time.
I roll my eyes at her comment. They don’t know that I stopped Isaac from kissing me. I also didn’t tell them about the stalker, that things got a little hot and heavy against the gym wall during the dance, or his text messages. Stalker hasn’t done anything malicious, so why bother anyone about it?
Okay, I’m gonna go to sleep. I’ll see you guys at school in the morning.
Both of them sent good-night messages simultaneously. I switch over to my social account and see Joaquín’s comment on Mireya and my picture.
Joaquín: Que linda es.
If only he saw me that way. Maybe time will heal everything between us. Despite all the crap he’s put me through, it’s hard to say if we could ever be a thing. Mireya gushed to mom about him when we got home from the fiasco at the park, telling mom all about the boy who saved her and gave her a squeeze. She even continued to talk about him through dinner, bath, and bedtime.
I respond to his comment,
Gabriela: Le gustas y no ha dejado de hablar del chico que la salvó del agujero. Gracias por hoy.
Hopefully, tomorrow is a better day. God knows I need it.
* * *
Fuck today.
As I hide out in the bathroom, my heart pounds in my chest. I can’t bear the thought of facing Joaquín, Nathan, and Thiago again. Their relentless taunting has taken a toll on me. Thiago is unusually quiet and seems different lately, and I suspect it has something to do with him seeing Cora.
Nathan, in particular, has been vicious with his words, hurling insults and degrading me. His latest comment about me being a “fucking whore” and asking if I’ll suck dick after school stings deeply. I try to shake off his hurtful words, reminding myself that I can’t let them destroy my self-worth.
I quickly grab my backpack off the stall hook in the bathroom and head to the sink to wash up. As I glance at my reflection in the mirror, I’m startled by the person staring back at me. The dark circles under my eyes seem to be permanent, a constant reminder of the sleepless nights I spend worrying about their relentless torment. The fading hickey from my stalker serves as a hidden reminder of the inner turmoil I’m facing as an eighteen-year-old girl falling apart inside.
Desperately longing for someone to notice my pain and offer reassurance, I yearn for a comforting voice telling me that everything will be okay. But as I step into the bustling science hall, my only focus is getting to chemistry class before Mr. Howard marks me late. I can’t afford to let my grades slip, no matter how much these bullies push me to the edge.
I sprint through the crowded hallway, hoping to avoid Joaquín, Nathan, or Thiago. Just let me get there without them noticing me. Just let me get there without them noticing me. Just let me get there without them noticing me. I weave through the students, my heart pounding with each step. I try to blend in, to disappear into the sea of faces, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But as luck would have it, I catch a glimpse of Joaquín’s sneering grin out of the corner of my eye. Panic sets in, and I quicken my pace, desperate to escape his reach.
Please, please, leave me alone.
Finally, I reach the door and slip inside, relieved to find an empty seat. As the bell rings, I take a deep breath and try to shake off the anxiety that clings to me like a second skin. I open my textbook, determined to immerse myself in the world of atoms and molecules and to find solace in the structure of the universe.
But even as I try to lose myself in the subject, the echoes of their hurtful words reverberate in my mind. The weight of their insults and degradation weighs heavily on my self-esteem, threatening to crush me under their relentless onslaught.
I glance around the classroom, searching for a friendly face and a sympathetic gaze. But the sea of indifferent expressions only serves to deepen my isolation. No one seems to notice the pain etched on my face or the silent plea for help hidden behind my eyes. Isaac isn’t even here. Then I remember the lacrosse game today, so he gets out of his last period early to help set up the field and warm up.
When Mr. Howard begins the lesson, I force myself to focus on the material at hand. I try hard to stay focused, determined to excel despite the obstacles in my path. I may be falling apart inside, but I refuse to let my obstacles ruin my future.