Swept Away (6 page)

Frankie is on the lam. My parents have installed a security system. They shake their heads, murmuring, as they test the system. Yes, Frankie was bad, and still is. I know, mom and dad. I know I screwed up.

I relax in a hot bath, wondering where Gabriel is, what he’s doing. I’ve racked my brain, trying to figure out why he pushed me away. And how did he come back to life? I’m sure he died, but maybe he didn’t. Who are you, Gabriel?

I’m sitting with Camilla in Chemistry class. Gabriel is absent. If he were dead, I’d understand his absence. However, being that he’s not…
Where are you, Gabriel?

“Did your dad talk to Gabriel, yesterday?” I ask Camilla.

“He tried, but didn’t get an answer.”

“Gabriel gave him his phone number?”

Camilla nods. “His cell,” she says.

I’m tempted to ask for it, but stifle that urge. Class starts. Vicki and Emily are here, but silent. Gabriel still hasn’t arrived. I always knew he was near when I was drowning. I’m on dry land now and it’s killing me. I can’t even smell sun-baked sand.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Gabriel is gone, I know that now. I hold Alejandro’s hand. He caresses mine. Camilla asks if we are a couple, I shrug. I don’t know what to say, what to feel. I want to cry. I want to shout. I want to drown in my misery.

I break away and cry in the girls’ bathroom. Emily is there. She hands me a tissue and doesn’t ask questions. Alejandro drops me off at home. I wish I had my car. He kisses me: my lips, my hand, even my heart. 

“I love you,” he says.

I say nothing and enter the house. It’s night. I’m submerged under the water, drowning myself. I’m ready to let go, all the pain, all the misery, all the mystery. I hear a voice, crying out my name: “Daria!” I break above the surface, but all is silent. No one is here. I’m all alone.

I’m in Chemistry. The stool next to me, empty for days, is now occupied.

Gabriel’s back. Everyone surrounds him. “What happened?” they chant.

He tells them nothing happened. Frankie just scratched him with his blade, that’s all. No need for concern. Thanks, anyway.

I want to punch his face—then kiss his bruises. I turn away from him—the cold shoulder treatment. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t say “Hello.” He smells like sun-baked sand. I wonder if I still smell like saltwater, to him.

Later, Alejandro thanks Gabriel for saving his life. “Again, it was nothing,” Gabriel says.

Alejandro has his arm around my waist, claiming me. I let him, to gauge Gabriel’s reaction. He doesn’t react. It’s like I’m nothing to him—when only yesterday, we were soulmates. Damn Spaniards.

How can one person make me feel so miserable so quickly? He is my fate, I decide. He’s a harbinger of doom.

Hurricane Fiona threatens to destroy Florida. We anxiously watch the news, hoping for her to turn off, out into the Atlantic. Well, everyone but me. I hope I’m thrown out to sea. She has other plans, though. She denies me my desire and skirts the coast. 

Time goes by. Gabriel and I are strangers. Alejandro and I are “official.” 

He sneaks into my room, prepared, a pair of condoms. I let go and give myself to him, twice. I bathe afterward, washing him away.

I’m doing well in school—A’s. I can hardly believe it myself. I wonder if it’s having Alejandro in my life, and not Gabriel. Who’s to say? Gabriel only speaks to me when he must, in class, on assignment, and purely professional. I hate him.

The Angels are playing tonight, against the Devils. Camilla cheers on Tony, as do I.  Alejandro sits beside me, rubbing my back. After the game, we all go out to eat. I’m happy. Alejandro takes me home. Later, he sneaks into my room. When he leaves, I don’t bathe, breathing in his sweat.

Camilla has nothing but warm words for her cousin, Gabriel. I keep my mouth shut. It’s hard.

The Vargas’ are having a cookout. I’m invited. I go, despite the knowledge that Gabriel will be there. Alejandro has to work. I feel his absence, desiring his presence, his arm around my waist.

I want Gabriel to say something, to fight Alejandro, to win me. He defies me.

I walk past him, sipping on iced tea. 

“You’re not going to speak?” he says.

I turn towards him. “You want me to speak to you?” I’m angry.

He ignores my fury. “So, you’re with Alejandro?”

“I think that’s obvious,” I say.

Tony appears—my ebony angel. “Hey, Daria, can I steal Gabriel for a minute?”

“He was never mine to begin with,” I say, and walk off.

The sun is about to set. I notice its beauty.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” says Gabriel, standing behind me.

“You were dead,” I say, instead. “What are you hiding from me?” I turn around and face him. “Where were you?”

“I’m sorry, Daria. I’m sorry,” he says, and walks away.

I wish you were dead, Gabriel.

My probation is over. I have my cell phone and my car back. Camilla and I go for a joy ride. We eat lunch at Libertad. We go bowling. We have a blast.

“I can’t wait for the Fall Dance,” says Camilla, when her drop her off.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, smiling. I can dance with Alejandro.

“Yeah, we can all go together,” says Camilla. “Gabriel has never been to an American high school dance before.”

Oh, Gabriel. I shut my mouth to keep from shouting obscenities.

“Of course,” I say. “All of us.”

It’s my birthday. Camilla is singing in Spanish. Alejandro kisses my cheek. My parents bring out the cake. 

“Make a wish,” my mom says.

I do and blow out the candles.

“What’d you wish for?” my dad asks.

“World peace,” I say, and everyone laughs.

“No, really, what?” asks Alejandro.

“Hush, you,” says Camilla. “It won’t come true if she tells!”

I keep silent, smiling. I wished that Gabriel would reveal his secrets to me. I know that wishes don’t come true. I had to ask, though.

Alejandro gave me a key chain that Camilla scoffed at, as if he could do better. He did, in a way. 

“It’s a promise ring,” he says, putting it on my finger.

We’re in my bedroom. Everyone’s gone. My parents, in their warm state, have allowed Alejandro to be in my bedroom. If they only knew what has been going on up here…

“What’s a promise ring?” I say, staring at the small jewel.

He’s embarrassed. “It’s not an engagement ring, but it is close. You’re promised to me.”

“Oh,” I say.

“I mean, you’re not my property, or anything. You can refuse it, if you want. It’s just, I love you, and I know you love me, even though you have a hard time saying it, well, you’ve never said it. It’s okay, really.” He runs his fingers through his hair, nervous. “Do you like it?  I…I’ve been saving up…for it.”

Kill me now.

“I love it,” I lie, and kiss him.

He smiles. “I’m glad.  I love you, Daria.”

I can’t bring myself to say the words. I kiss him, again. We make love, as quietly as we can. He’s different, in bed, than he has been before. I think it’s the ring. He takes his time. He’s not afraid. He whispers endearments in my ear. “Mi amor,” he breathes in my ear—my love.

I whisper it back. He smiles, elated at my confession. He falls asleep, next to me. I run my fingers through his hair, thinking of Gabriel. When he wakes, I give him back the promise ring. I apologize. 

“I can’t be promised to you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He puts on his clothes, calls me a “bitch,” and leaves. I cry myself to sleep.

Vicki is absent. So, Camilla is Emily’s partner during lab. I’m stuck with Gabriel.               

“Hello,” he greets, measuring a beaker.

“Hello,” I return, watching him measure the beaker.

“How have you been?”

“Peachy,” I say.

He smiles. “You’re not solemn?”

“Why would I be solemn?”

“You and Alejandro,” he says.

“How do you know, and why do you even care?”

“Gossip is rampant here, and I do care, Daria.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

He turns on the tap, watching the water fall. “Have you given any more thought to what I asked before?”

I know what he’s talking about. “No, I don’t know what ‘the answer is in the fountain’ means. Stop asking me. The answer isn’t going to suddenly reveal itself—and if it did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like you.”

“Do you hate me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Daria.”

“Me too,” I say. “Why do you smell like sun-baked sand?”

“Why do you smell like saltwater?” he asks, turning off the tap.

“Do you always answer a question with a question?”

“Yes, when I don’t know the answer, or when I seek another answer, myself. My life is mystery, Daria. I never knew another’s was—until I met you.”

“I’m an open book,” I contest.

“But the pages are all blank,” he retorts.

“Perhaps ‘the answer is in the fountain,’” I tease.

He gives me the smallest of smiles that’s somehow lined with sorrow. “Perhaps,” he ponders. 

October passes by. Everyone’s excited about the Fall Dance. I’m ambivalent. If I go, Camilla will be there, for me—but she’ll also be with Tony. I can’t take her away from him. Vicki has been gossiping about her “new man” to everyone. Frankie is still gone. I guess she decided to move on. I should do the same. I think if Gabriel were to ask me out, I’d say yes. I find him fascinating and an evening out with him might reveal what he’s hiding—or maybe not. My fascination with him borders on obsession, and in my obsessive state, my mind acts irrationally, often dangerously.                    

“I bet it’s her cousin,” says Camilla, about Vicki’s date to the dance.

We found out that he’s not a high school student. Rumors are swirling that he attends St. Francis. 

I’m reminded of Gabriel and Camilla’s family bond—cousins—distant. How distant? I wonder.    

The Fall Dance has started. It’s really a Halloween dance, but no one calls it that.  Some students are in costume, but most aren’t. I’m surprised by the levels of attendance. It seems as if the entire school is in the gymnasium.

I’m not wearing a costume, and neither is Camilla, technically. She’s wearing leather pants and a tube top. She changed into it while I drove her to the school. It’s hot, as Florida is in late October. I’m wearing a camisole and mini skirt. Bold, I know, but not nearly as scandalous as some of the other female students, who think that this is a nightclub, and not a school dance.

Camilla is dancing with Tony. I’m a wallflower. Alejandro is dancing with a girl, I don’t know her name. We haven’t spoken since that night when I refused to wear his promise ring. I heard that he hates me. I hate myself.

Gabriel is a no show. I’m glad yet disappointed. I wonder if I asked him, would he run away with me? Silly, I know, but there are times when I want to get away—from my family—even from Camilla. I love her to death, but she can’t always be pulled between me and Tony. She’ll have to choose. And she should choose Tony. I’m not worth it. 

The song is over. Camilla and Tony are talking to Alejandro and his dance partner. Soon, another song begins, and they are dancing—except for Alejandro, who leaves his partner. She looks sad. 

Alejandro makes his way towards me and leans against the wall. “You look nice.”

“Thanks, you do too.”

“It’s just jeans and a T-shirt.”

I shrug. “You do. You always look nice, handsome.”

“Not handsome enough to tempt you?” he says, smiling a bit, raising his eyebrow.

I laugh. “We’re doing
Pride & Prejudice
?”

He breathes in deep, then out. “I
will
conquer this!”

I laugh again, and then I’m serious. “You’re wasting your time with me. You should go back to your date.”

“I don’t like her.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s not you.”

“I’m messed up, Alejandro.”

He secures his hands in his jeans’ pockets and rests his head against the brick wall.  “Right, right, I forgot. You’re not ready. One day, you know, you’ll be ready, and I’ll be gone.”

“I know. You’re better off without me. You were right. There’s something going on between me and Gabriel, I just don’t know what. I think about him all the time.” I shrug. “He has this hold over me.”

He folds his arms across his chest. “I’ve seen you two, together, in class. You barely say two words to each other. It’s like you hate each other.”

I nod. “We do, I think. I hate how he makes me feel—lost—adrift.”

“You’re a liar, you know that, Daria?” he says, but without malice. “You complain of being lost, adrift, but honestly, I think that’s where you want to be.”

“Why?”

He’s already walking away, but stops, and turns towards me. “You don’t want to be found.”

He walks away. Vicki enters, followed by Emily. Vicki’s new beau’s face is hidden behind a Phantom of the Opera mask. He looks older, by the mature shape of his body. I guess he is in college.

Vicki, her arm looped around his, saunters over to me. “Hello, wallflower.”

I say nothing. The man behind the mask unsettles me.

“This is Emilio,” Vicki says, “my new boyfriend. Isn’t he delicious?”

“I can’t tell,” I say. “His face is hidden.”

Emilio removes it. He reminds me somewhat of Gabriel. Emilio has one blue eye, and one green eye. 

“Hello, senorita. How are you this evening?” he says in a Spanish accent.

“Good,” I say, taken aback.

“I’m Emilio de la Vega.” He extends his hand. “And you are?”

“Daria,” I say, choosing not to be so formal. I shake his hand, though. It’s cold and unfeeling.

He keeps my hand in his, secure, and then he brings it to his lips, sealing our introduction with a wet kiss.

“Um, what the hell are you doing?” Vicki says to Emilio.

Emilio turns to Vicki. “Victoria, darling, please excuse us. I’d like to get better acquainted with Daria.”

“Uh, hell no,” she says, defiant.

“Leave,” he barks at her. She leaves, pouting, with Emily trailing.

“Emilio, is it?” I say.

He smiles.

“I don’t want to get better acquainted with you. Excuse me.”             

I go to move, but Emilio blocks my path.

“I mean you no harm,” he says, sincerely.

“What do you want?”

He’s staring at me. “I’m transfixed by your eyes, such a lovely shade of green—like a leaf after a rain.”

My heart skips a beat.

“You’re very poetic,” I say. “I know of another Spaniard, here, who likes my eyes too.”

“Oh?” says Emilio, raising an eyebrow. “A fellow countryman, here, how unusual—what is his name, darling Daria?”

“Gabriel Antonio del Castillo,” I say.

“Hmm,” Emilio says, furrowing his brow, pursing his lips. 

“Do you know him?” I ask.

“No, can’t say I do.”

“Curious,” I say, “you and Gabriel finding my eyes, so transfixing.”

“Curious, indeed,” he says, smiling.

I see Vicki, giving me the evil eye, across the gym. I tilt my head in her direction. “So, Emilio, what do you see in our Victoria?”

He smiles. “Oh, don’t be so quick to dismiss our Victoria. She’s been a
fountain
of information.”

“I wouldn’t believe anything she tells you. She has a habit of lying.”

“I can discern fact from fiction, truth from lies.”

“I have to go,” I say, and turn.

He blocks my path, again. He leans in and whispers, “You’re lying, senorita.”

“So are you,” I hit back.

He looks offended. “I’ve been completely honest with you.”

“Only liars say that,” I point out.

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Alejandro interjects himself between me and Emilio.

Emilio appraises Alejandro and by his smug expression, finds him harmless, yet he acquiesces, and takes a step back, holding up his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, falsely. He looks at me and nods. “Daria,” he says, in farewell, and then leaves.

My name on his lips: “Daria,” wasn’t just a farewell. He was saying, “I’ll see you again.” I shudder. 

“Are you all right?” Alejandro asks.

I nod. “Yeah, he’s Vicki’s date, actually. I guess he figures himself a Casanova or something.” I shrug. “No big deal.” I’m lying. Gabriel Antonio del Castillo isn’t a harbinger of doom. It’s Emilio de la Vega, the mystery Spaniard.

“The answer is in the fountain.”

What does it mean? And how are Gabriel and Emilio connected?