Losing You Read online

  “How could you?” mom asked, a tear running down her cheek, she quickly wiped it but we all saw. Great, now you’re even hurting your own mother, the woman who gave birth to you and makes you grilled cheese whenever you want.

  “I’m terrible person,” I answered, feeling all hollow inside. I took a spoonful of ice cream, ignoring the murderous glares dad kept giving me and the icy sting the cold ice cream was having on my sensitive teeth. I loved ice cream but right now, I didn’t even taste it. We drove home in an awkward silence. The minute I walked into my room dad followed me in.

  “James you’ve been acting up lately, getting arrested, staying out late, your language and you’ve been so mean to Mickey. If you hurt your mom anymore, I promise you, you will regret it and you’ll spend the summer in Atlanta with your aunt Chloe. Now you will apologize to Mickey the next time you see her. Is that clear?” dad asked in an authoritative voice. His voice was angry and harsh and piercing like his light hazel brown eyes. I nodded understanding.

  “Yes,” I answered pissed. Oh, how could I be so stupid.

  Michaela

  I woke up the next morning still feeling the shock of my own words. I couldn’t believe I had told James I had loved him. I was so stupid. I walked to school feeling nervous the whole time that James would see me but when I went to class and James wasn’t there, I got less nervous and when the bell rang and he still didn’t show up, my anxiety completely vanished. Where was he? I wondered. Did he not come because of me? Did I scare him? Is he okay? I started to get paranoid of his safety, maybe something happened.

  “Mike, since James is absent you can work with me.” Mrs. Becker smiled and pulled out a chair next to her desk. I got up with my folder and pencil and walked to the chair that was meant for me. Some of my classmates gave me sympathetic looks, while others snickered. But I didn’t care, I’d rather work with Mrs. Becker than any of them. I smiled and sat down next to her. She took my folder and looked at my work, skipping James’s.

  “How’s it going with James?” she asked. I grimaced.

  “Not great, it could be a lot better but we’re trying,” I told her truthfully. Mrs. Becker was a big believer in honesty and if you were truthful, she’d like you better for it.

  “Well, that’s good at least. Now, let’s go over what you’ve done so far,” she said and then looked over my papers, we stopped on the last entry. “This one is not very detailed or specific, let’s work on it.” She smiled. I could feel my face pale.

  “Um, it’s very private,” I squeaked. That seemed to make her even more curious. I had the sinking feeling that Mrs. Becker had only given us this project because she loved gossip and was interested in our lives and wanted to learn all of our dirty secrets.

  “Well, only James and I will see it,” she said, not giving up.

  “That’s kind of the problem.” I blushed.

  “Oh,” she said understandingly. “Well then, tell me and I won’t take off marks.” My, my, Mrs. Becker really did love gossip and personal information! I really didn’t want to lose marks.

  “Okay, well like I said I was jealous of her for just one thing. It was last year when Megan was going out with James. Every time I saw them together, I felt like I was being punched in the gut but eventually he broke up with her and then there were other girls like Megan he’d go out with and I always felt the same. I was jealous they all got the chance to be with James when I didn’t, even after what happened between us, I still get jealous. I know it doesn’t even make sense because I hate him,” I whispered. I saw the pity in her eyes as she nodded.

  “You two have quite the history,” she said a moment later.

  “You have no clue.” I sighed, she laughed at that.

  “Hate?” she asked reading the next word and moving on.

  “James,” I said simply.

  “Why?” she asked genuinely intrigued.

  “There are many reasons, he broke my heart, he ruined everything we’d ever had, he lied to me and broke so many promises and he chose to be popular over being friends with me. I was his best friend since we were seven but mainly because he hates me for no reason,” I explained as Mrs. Becker wrote it all down.

  “Please don’t make me show this to him,” I pled.

  “Don’t worry I would never do that,” she said kindly, “Love and hate, they are such similar emotions,” she said quietly surprising me. What was she talking about? They were polar opposites.

  “Mrs. B, can I ask you something?” I asked her curiously.

  “Of course.” She smiled sweetly.

  “Why did you give this project? Why are you interested in our lives?” I asked her, I didn’t believe for one second it was just about us learning to connect with characters we read about or about us talking to each other about strong sentiments we felt for therapeutic reasons. She grinned guiltily now.

  “I think it’s a good teaching method,” she answered, “And I might find some useful notes for when I write,” she said quietly, making me laugh. So, laying out our personal lives was not just for some assignment but for her amusement and inspiration as well.

  “Hey Derek,” I said as he sat down beside me at lunch. We’d gotten to be pretty good friends ever since gym but I had the sinking feeling that he wanted more, it was just too bad I didn’t feel the same.

  “Hey Mike what’s up?” he smiled, his freckled cheeks getting dimples.

  “I got you some goodies,” I told him, passing him a paper bag.

  “Rocky Road, you’re a God,” he said, taking one of the bars that I made yesterday after school out of the bag and took a bite. “Mmm,” he moaned swallowing.

  “Just happy my baking goes to good use,” I laughed truthfully. Alyssa and my step sisters didn’t eat anything I made because of the calories and dad was away on business so I didn’t have the chance to make him too much. James had become my enemy, so the only person I had to bake for was Gran, and my few friends. I baked whenever I had the chance, it was my passion and it filled the empty hours that James had left me with. I baked everything and anything but my favorite things to bake were desserts, I had a huge sweet tooth and never tired of decadent pastry.

  “Well, you can bake for me whenever you want.” He grinned. Em nudged me with her foot under the table but I just ignored her and ate my soup. Things between Derek and I continued to get even weirder, like in gym he volunteered to be my partner for badminton, even though I wanted to be with Tara, and he even tried to hold my hand for a few seconds.

  “I like Derek just not like that, for one thing, he’s not my type.” I still didn’t know what my type was but I knew he wasn’t it.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Em asked, as we talked on the phone just before I left for Gran’s house. Good question.

  “Nothing, he’s just too perfect,” I decided, packing my school bag full of clothes and stuff to show Gran. I did it every time I saw her, I’d bring new stuff to show her or things I thought she’d like.

  “Too perfect? There’s no such thing, you’re just making excuses, you always make excuses. I just don’t understand why?” she laughed. Well that made a lot of people, including myself.

  “I don’t know, he’s nice but he’s not my type. He always lets me be right, we never argue, he always compliments me, he’s just… Derek.” I sighed.

  “He freaking worships the ground you walk on! What else do you want?” she asked, clearly thinking I was being insane. It wasn’t about me wanting more but different things, he was Derek and not trying to be mean but that was boring for me. He was a great friend but I couldn’t see myself in a long-term relationship with him.

  “Oh, I got to go but I’ll see you Monday,” Em said suddenly.

  “Okay, bye,” I said.

  “Bye.” She clicked off. I found myself looking out my window and into James’s room, his curtains were closed as usual but still I wondered whether he was in his room and if he was okay or sick, maybe that’s why he missed school. I finished packing and
got into dad’s black Lexus. I took a deep breath, put my bag in the passenger seat, strapped myself in and turned the keys, putting my foot on the brake. I checked all my mirrors and blind spots and then reversed and was on my way to Gran’s. Like every time I drove to Gran’s, I wished someone else could, like dad or James. They always used to drive me but now I had no one, with dad being away and James having left me. I drove managing to only make three stops, one stop less than the last time. Okay, so I can only drive for twenty minutes without freaking out and seeing my dead mom and dad in their final breaths but in twenty minutes you could get pretty far. Like to school or the library or the mall, even the movie theatre and lots of restaurants, so often I wouldn’t even have to make stops when I went these short distances but whenever I went to Gran’s there were always many stops. When I turned into Gran’s driveway and got out with my bag in hand, I felt great to be done with the drive and to be at a place that held so many good memories for me. Gran came out, dish towel still in her hand.

  “Oh, sweets you’re here! I was just drying some dishes. Come on in,” she said giving me a hug and walking me into the house. Grandma looked fully Hispanic but when she spoke had a true Ohio accent, which was where she lived for thirty years before she moved here to follow her son. She kissed me on both cheeks and then smiled, her wise brown eyes wrinkling at the sides and her smile big, her black hair was now graying more, but still she was the same Gran.

  “I missed you girl, more than you know. There’s not a lot for an old bird like me to do out here all alone,” she said, sounding very sad.

  “Old, you? Never.” I laughed, Gran was ageless. Well at least her spirit and athleticism, her looks were pretty good considering all the years. “And you birdy, have tons of friends and clubs.” I accused. She opened her mouth, looking for something to say but found no words, she strode into the kitchen and threw the dish towel onto the counter, I smiled victoriously.

  “All my friends are old now and have walkers and dentures. You, my sweets are fun and alive, not all gassy and falling asleep. Now wipe that cheeky smile off your face.” I just smiled more at her, Gran was too funny.

  “Well, I’m sorry and I promise I’ll visit you more, I missed you a lot,” I told her and gave her another hug. Her weak and small arms hugged me back and then she pulled my face down an inch to her 5’2” height and she whispered in my ear.

  “You better, I know where you live and even if I have to drag you down here, you’ll come. This bird’s got a lot of fight left in her,” she threatened and then jokingly smacked my butt. “Are you hungry, my sweet?” she asked, opening the fridge a second later. “I’ve got leftover pizza.”

  “No, I’m good,” I told her and then sat down at her small kitchen table. She closed the fridge and sat across from me, that’s just one of the many things I loved about Gran. If you said no she stopped, she didn’t keep at it like most old people do, she let it be and moved on. Well when it came to food at least.

  “So, what’s new and good in life. Fill me in on all the new jazz,” she said excitedly. Gran loved new, fashionable trends, and gossip, she liked to be kept up to date. I’d often bring her the books I was reading, or buy her magazines with all the new fashions and decor.

  “School sucks as usual, dad left for London yesterday, or I guess this morning. Oh, and did I tell you I am now a legal adult.” I smiled.

  “No, you didn’t, but don’t think I forgot. I may be old and my mind might slip on some things but never the birthday of my favourite grandchild,” she said, horrified.

  “Gran, I’m your only grandchild.” I grinned. Adopted grandchild.

  “And you always be my favourite.” I laughed at her. “Anywho, let me go get your present now,” she said and then dashed off, without letting me even argue. I wondered what Gran had got me. She always gave great presents; she got me an easy bake oven when I was eight and a doll house when I was nine, and when I was sixteen an amazing bone china tea set. It was beautiful, dark blue and gold on each cup and saucer, all made in England. Gran knew me well, better than most people and unfortunately better than my stepmom. She came back with a small box, a jewellery box? Which I found weird because I didn’t wear much jewellery or any most of the time but that didn’t matter because I knew I would love whatever Gran got me.

  “Happy birthday doll, you’re going to like this.” She smiled and handed me the small golden wrapped box. I carefully peeled off the thin gold paper and then opened the lid to the little white box inside. An antique, bronze, delicate-looking key lay inside, I picked it up and looked at it. I moved my eyebrows up in question and examined my gift.

  “What is it for?” I asked, confused. She smiled, pleased, and took my hand in hers.

  “I’ll show you! You have no clue how long it took me to find this,” she said and then brought me to my room where a large, old wooden chest sat at the front of my bed with a fuchsia bow on it. I looked at it and instantly fell in love.

  “Like it? I love it! It’s beautiful, where did you ever find it?” I asked, stroking the soft worn wood. I undid the two latches and used the key to open the lock. It was big and empty, the inside lined with a creamy, pale yellow silk with little dark green flowers. Gran smiled even wider and sat on my bed, that had the same red and white comforter it’d had since I could remember.

  “I found it at an antique shop when I was looking for an old hat with Beatrice, and there it was, just gathering dust and I knew that it would be perfect for you, so why let it sit there? I had to get it,” she said cheerfully.

  “It’s perfect.” I agreed, it was very me. I loved old fashioned things, I didn’t know why, I just did, they had so much more character and warmth. I gave her a hug, not too tight because she was so small and fragile. “Thanks Gran.” I smiled.

  “Oh, love, don’t thank me, it’s my pleasure,” she said and then took a bunch of papers off my nightstand, she handed them to me. Tanya Amado, the first paper said, inheritance. I skipped that paper and read the next Miguel Amado, inheritance and then to the last pages Maya Amado, will. I looked at Gran confused.

  “These are just photocopies, the real ones are in your safety deposit box,” she said with a serious face. I had a safety deposit box?

  “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

  “My sweet child, you’re eighteen now. Now you are legally allowed to have your mother’s inheritance, I’ve been keeping it for you,” she said, looking a little sad.

  “Oh, but why is dad’s and yours in here?” I asked, feeling sick.

  “You should have your dad’s as well, it’s what he would have wanted. He thought of you more than anything and you are my granddaughter, so if anyone is to get anything, I want it to be you,” she explained.

  “But Gran, I still don’t get why yours is in here,” I said in a small voice. This was all scaring me.

  “I’m getting old sweets,” she started, but I cut her off, I couldn’t handle much more.

  “No, you’re still young and healthy and active. This is all nonsense,” I said, voice cracking.

  “Sweets, I may be active but young and healthy I am not. I am almost eighty-eight and my doctor tells me that I have been diagnosed with lung cancer,” she said slowly. My heart stopped on the last word and the tears tumbled out of my eyes.

  “No,” I cried and held her against me. “They’re wrong, you never smoked a cigarette in your life. You’re healthy,” I argued, my voice still shaking. Gran patted my back soothingly.

  “I know my sweets, but your grandfather smoked like a chimney and everyone else at the bar where I waitressed did too,” she tried to explain. I never met my step-grandfather, he died when dad was twenty. I used to wish I might have had the chance but now I just wished he had never made Gran sick and had disappeared long before that. We went back down for some tea but the whole time I watched Gran’s every movement. She was right, she was a lot older than she seemed to be but I was only noticing it now. Like how she was slower than before and h
er face had many more wrinkles and was thinner looking. Tears continued to dribble out from my eyes no matter how hard I tried to stop them.

  “Do you need help?” I asked her again as I sat at one of the chairs observing through watery and blurry eyes. Gran turned around, hands on her hips.

  “Don’t you start treating me like glass. I’m fine, this bird ain’t going out with one hell of a fight.” I smiled at her small tough face.

  “I’m sorry Gran,” I apologized.

  “Don’t apologize, just don’t do it,” she said and put down her beautiful rose bud tea cups and saucers. “How is James?” she asked casually and changed the subject as well.

  “You know James and I don’t talk Gran,” I told her, feeling slightly annoyed. Gran always asked about James, every time I saw her and she knew we didn’t talk.

  “But you should. It’s not good to live with hate and that boy loved you,” she continued. More like the other way around.

  “Why don’t you tell him that,” I said frowning.

  “Because this is between you two,” she said, stirring sugar into her tea.

  “Well then, for your information James never loved me, he pitied me and even if I were to forgive him, he still wouldn’t talk to me,” I told her, feeling angry now. Gran raised her eyes at me.

  “Who told you that hogwash? The boy loved you, he was in love with you Michaela. Now please, for an old bird, would you try to make amends?” she pled. I didn’t bother telling her it was James who told me that. Instead I granted her wish,

  “Fine.” And then took a sip of my peppermint tea.

  James

  So, like the coward I was, I skipped school the next day. When mom came into my room, I told her I was sick and needed to sleep. She didn’t question me because I had never done this before and then she left me alone. I watched Mickey draw her curtains in her pink PJs and then go out of view. What are you thinking? I opened and closed my curtains twice to say good morning or hi, it had two meanings but she didn’t see. I felt stupid for even playing the game now. I shouldn’t have the morning after our fight. Especially since we never even should have had the fight. Cody texted me from homeroom to tell me what I what I was missing.