Chapter 21 #5
“I’m so sorry you went through that… Not having money to prosper.”
Pearla had told me every detail of the shooting that had Grind in a coma, and my heart went out to her.
In turn, I told her about the shootout Shio and I had been in.
We exchanged a secret for a secret, and although I shouldn’t have been telling that to a teenager, I wanted her to feel comfortable talking to me.
“You really like Shio.”
“Si.” The admission hurt. It was the only thing about me hurting today.
“I know you think you’re not good enough, Solana, but you are. My nephew, Neltz, is a really good judge of character. He likes you. But, then again, he liked Grind too. Ugggh! I have to stop saying his name.”
“It’s okay to say his name. It’s okay to love him, Pearla.”
“I don’t want to love him, though,” she whispered.
“I know…”
She shook her head and turned onto her back. I was now looking at her side profile as she looked at what I figured was the ceiling.
“You’re kind. Patient. Understanding. You’re a good listener, and you’re not judgmental. I know it has to be hard being here, in a whole other country, eating our foods and hearing our slang. Then, you’re locked in a room and battling an addiction, and we come down here every day bothering you.”
“You’re not bothering me. I welcome the distraction, and I enjoy all of you.”
Pearla swallowed and let the silence settle between us. I was trying my hardest not to think about Shio today. I hadn’t texted him. I hadn’t read the journal either. I had been feeling much better these days, and I wanted to stay that way.
“You are good enough, Solana.”
Pearla turned her head to face me, her eyes glowing with tears, prompting mine to do the same. I reached my hand through the slot, and she clasped it in hers.
I smiled at her. She was so pretty and kind. I believed Pearla deserved all that was good in this country—in this world.
“You’re good enough, Pearla. I will say, I think there is much more to the story with Grind and Kaylee. I have learned that sometimes, desperate times calls for desperate measures. People make decisions that you would never have thought they ever would when their backs are against the roof.”
Pearla giggled. “You mean, the wall, Solana. When their backs are against the wall.”
I giggled too. “Si. Against the wall.”
I blinked away the tears and welcomed the laugh. It didn’t hurt as much to laugh now. I thought about the deals my father signed with the devil countless times for money or power. Our entire family was either dead or incarcerated because he chose himself out of desperation over and over again.
Pearla gasped as if she had a revelation. “Oh, Lord. You’re team Grind, hunh?”
I squeezed her hand, placed it to my lips, and then my face. “I’m team you. You’re good enough, Pearla. You actually more than good enough.”
“I don’t know if you want kids or not, but you’re going to make a great mom.”
“Maybe…”
“You have to come to my graduation, Solana.”
“Of course.” I didn’t know where life would take me by the time she graduated, but I’d make sure I was there.
“And prom! Oooo! I want you to help me pick out a dress and everything.”
“Oh, I can see you in a pretty lavender.”
Pearla snatched her hand back, her eyes wide with shock. “O.M.G. How did you know that was my favorite color?”
Her mouth was open wide, not thinking about the bands around her bracelets being lavender. She also wore lavender-studded earrings. The color looked good against her brown skin.
“Lucky guess.” I shrugged with a smirk.
“I know you don’t like being in here, but I’m glad you’re here. I haven’t been… myself. But around you, I feel… lighter. Carefree. Almost like my old self before everything happened. I just want to be happy again, but I don’t know what happy looks like now.”
“Happy is whatever feels good to you, Pearla. It doesn’t have to be your previous happy. It can be a new happy.”
“I know you care for Shio, just like I care for Grind, but let’s make a promise pact.
” She held her pinky out. “We have to find happiness outside of them—outside of boys. Boys make you depressed. They make life not worth living. A boy almost made me hate this city. At one point, I hated to breathe. We can’t be that way. So, us first—”
I locked my pinky in hers. “And boys second?”
“Nope. Third. Friends and family second.”
We locked our pinkies together tighter.
“Trato. (Deal).”
“No summertime sadness. We too fine for that.” She perked up her lips, and I smiled at her sass.
I nodded. “We are. No summertime sadness.”
A grin spread across Pearla’s face as our pinkies stayed locked. “Don’t tell my sister, but Shio is going to end up with the perfect wife.”
My body stiffened.
Pearla winked. “You.”
I felt my cheeks flush with warmth. “You just said boys third, Pearla. And I’m nobody’s wife, especially Shio’s.”
“Boys are third, but Shio is a man. And you will be his wife.”
I had no reply, so I lay there, holding her hand via pinky, while silence settled again. After a few seconds, we both erupted into a fit of giggles. We laughed so hard that it turned into tears.
“Pearla, I have to grab a water. I’m thirsty.”
She let my pinky go, and I stood. I hadn’t been able to do that with such ease days ago.
Grabbing the bottle of water off the dresser, I looked at the painting above the TV while I sipped.
There was a black dot that I hadn’t seen before.
Standing on my tippy toes, I tried getting a better look, but it was no use because it was too high up.
“Solanaaaaa…”
Taking another swig of the water, I placed it back on the dresser and looked back at the painting.
It was covered in swirls of white textured paint, which was why the black dot above it stood out.
Shrugging it off when Pearla called my name again, I walked back to the door.
Taking my place back on the ground, I lay down like Pearla and stared at the white ceiling.
It wasn’t an uncomfortable white anymore.
Pearla went back to talking about her upcoming senior year, and I listened with glee, admiring the lives of these younger humans.
Today had been the first good day since I’d been in the room.
No pain. No mental battle. No yearning for Shio.
No cocaine craving. Just Pearla and me having some good girl talk that I never had before coming to the States.
I wouldn’t even be opening the journal today.
I wanted to relish this feeling. I knew if I read Sandro’s writing, I would probably revert back to summertime sadness.
I will overcome this addiction. This addiction will not get the best of me. I am bigger than my addiction. I am in control.