From What I Remember (40 page)

“I love you so much, Max. I don’t want to ever lose you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”

“Yeah, me too,” I say. As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I know I don’t mean it. Maybe I did at one time. But not anymore. The problem is, I don’t know what else I can say. I’m losing my grip on things. It’s harder and harder for me to see what’s real. Maybe when the hangover lets up. Maybe when I’ve had some time to think and put it all in perspective. Or maybe it is what it is—one awesome night in Mexico with a girl I barely know. Maybe life is full of moments like this—fleeting, genius moments that don’t bleed into real life. And don’t mean much when they’re over.

can’t believe they didn’t take any of my music. That’s just insulting.” Will and Juan and I are standing in front of Will’s Mini Cooper, staring at the driver’s-side window, which has been smashed to smithereens. “That’s what you’re worried about?” Usually Will’s humor is charming, but right now I want to rip his scalp off. Not only have the windows of his car been decimated by thieves, but all four tires are gone. Gone. His car looks like a toy that’s been mangled by a toddler. We’re not going anywhere. “You have to admit, it’s offensive. How could they not have wanted any of my CDs? I have great taste in music.” Will looks at me, dead serious.

I want to throttle him. I am so not in the mood.

“Who gives a shit about your music, Will? We have such bigger issues. How the hell are we going to get to graduation now?” I’m going to lose it on Will. He’s hardly earned it, but he’s the only likely candidate for my rage.

Juan has the good sense not to get involved. He looks out at the ocean, waiting, I assume, for us to resolve this nightmare somehow or seek his counsel.

“Kylie, this is not my fault, darling. How could I have known my car would get vandalized? Damn. The border cop actually told me to get insurance, and I thought he was just trying to scam me. Who knew? I should have listened to him. My dad is going to kill me. He just bought the Mini a few months ago.”

I can feel myself losing it. “Listen, Will, I feel bad about the car, but you can deal with it later. I’m sure your dad can figure this out. Right now, we’ve got to focus on finding a way back to school. Shit. Shit. Shit. What are we going to do? This is so typical. You know what, Will? You attract trouble.”

I know it’s not Will’s fault, but somehow, somehow…I feel like it is.

“What? Let me remind you that
you’re
the one who got kidnapped and taken to Mexico, not me.
I’m
the one who hauled ass and came down here to rescue you. So I think you better just lose the ’tude.”

Will’s righteous anger tugs me back to reality. Why am I treating my best friend like shit? Because I let some guy treat me like shit, that’s why. It’s not fair. I’m better than this. Will deserves better than this.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I just don’t know what to do.”

“It’s all right,
chica
, I know you’re stressing. We’re going to get back; we’ll figure this out.” Will puts his arm around my shoulder. “‘Make anyone cry today?’”

“‘Sadly, no. But it’s only four thirty,’” I say.
10 Things I Hate About You
always brings a smile to my face. I love that movie. And Heath Ledger in it. And Will for bringing it up.

I have to stop acting like such a tool. And feeling sorry for myself. Yes I got my heart broken, but at least I put it out there. Maybe next time I’ll pick a better contender, like Will did. Right now, I’ve got to throw everything I’ve got into Plan B.

I turn to Juan. “I don’t suppose you have a car, Juan?”

Juan smiles weakly. “No. I’ve got a bike.”

I’m sure Max, Lily, and Charlie have already hightailed it out of town. Max seemed eager to be far, far away from me.

“We’ve got to see when the next bus leaves. It’s our best option,” I say. “Let’s go back to Manuel’s. He can help us figure out the schedule.”

We turn and trudge back toward Manuel’s. It’s hard to buck up. The self-pity is creeping back in like roaches at a seedy motel.

At this point, I know it doesn’t even matter, but I must look like such a train wreck. My hair is frizzing out and the ends are coated with dried vomit. I’m still wearing this goddamn wedding dress, but the lace hangs off the hem, shredded. My white espadrilles are gray at this point, and my skin has a greenish hue. It’s certainly an original look for the Freiburg valedictorian.

I dig into my backpack, pull out a tube of lip balm, and swipe it across my lips. I may look like hell, but at least my lips will be moist. It’s not much, but it’s something. As I’m putting the lip balm back, I catch sight of my key chain from Jake, attached to the zipper. It’s a plastic palm tree with the words san diego written up the trunk. I have no idea why he thought I’d like it so much, but I do. I treasure it. The thought of Jake pulls at my stomach. I’ve been so busy making a mess of my life, I haven’t thought about him in a while. I wonder how he’s doing without me. What did Mom tell him? Jesus. I can’t go there, not now.

I feel the ring on my hand and glance down at it briefly. I’m not even sure what it means. I search the recesses of my brain and find, deeply hidden, a vague recollection from the pier last night. There was a priest, couples, a wedding ceremony. Is it even possible? We couldn’t have gotten married. Could we? And even if we did something that stupid and reckless, doesn’t it take a lot more than some priest on a pier for an American to get legally married in Mexico? It was probably just a joke. An idiotic, foolhardy, drunken joke. Whatever it was, I’m sure it’s fixable. The rest of the mess is less easily mended.

I stare down at the ring. I should hurl it across the street. It’s a potent symbol of my folly. And yet I don’t want to take it off. Stupid, stupid girl. Are you waiting on a miracle? Get over him. It’s not happening.

I head back into Manuel’s house, Will and Juan right behind me. They’re holding hands like they’ve been together for years, an old married couple. It’s surreal.

“What time is it, Will?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“Uh…seven thirty-five.”

A little more than four hours to get to graduation. Our chances are shrinking by the minute.

“Hello?” I walk through the front door of the house to find Manuel and Manu watching TV on the couch.

“You’re back?”

The sight of Manuel with his arm around his son, somehow pierces at my heart, and I erupt in tears. Oh my God. I’m turning into a character from a Mexican
telenovela
. I cannot stop crying. What is wrong with me? I’ve probably cried at least six times in the past twenty-four hours. I do not understand it, but Manuel has struck a chord in me, maybe because of my dad, maybe because he was such a huge part of such a huge night in my life, maybe because I am flat-out exhausted. In any case, I run up to him and throw my arms around him.

“Whoa there,
mamacita
, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be fine. Just tired. I feel like I didn’t properly apologize for the craziness this morning, Manuel. I’m so sorry.”

“Is that why you came back, to apologize. Again? Because you already did. Several times.” Manuel is chuckling. He must think I am a complete lunatic. Which I am. “You really don’t have time to waste. The border could be crowded. You need to get going.”

“Will’s car was vandalized. We need to get a bus.”

“I bet you can catch your…friends. Can I call them that?”

“Not really,” I say.

“Well, whatever they are, I bet they’re still in town. They went to buy food. Max told me on his way out.”

“No way. That’s great. Thanks. Thanks again and again, Manuel. For everything.”

“You’ll come back with Javier. This summer. Before you go off to New York City.”

“I promise I’ll be back. I can’t speak for my dad. You know what he’s like.”

I’m running for the door when Manuel calls to me.

“Kylie, that girl doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

I smile at Manuel. If I stayed any longer I’d start crying again.

I fly out the door. Will and Juan are waiting outside.

“C’mon. Manuel thinks Max, Lily, and Charlie went to get food in town. We’ve got to find them.” As sickening as it will be to drive all the way back to school with them, it’s the best idea we’ve got.

“We’re all going to drive home together?” Will asks, equally horrified at the prospect.

“Yes. Unless you have a better idea.”

“I’ve got nothing.”

I tear off down the hill. I can see town up ahead. I run past the houses and the kids playing in the street and the ticky-tacky souvenir shops. Back into this town that I’ve come to love. And there it is, Charlie’s Jeep sitting on the main street, across from the harbor, idling.

I’m still a few blocks away as I watch Max and Lily climb inside and shut the doors. And then the Jeep pulls away from the curb.

I charge after it, yelling and waving my arms furiously.

“Wait! Stop! Max!”

The Jeep picks up speed.

Will and Juan run after me, but they’re too slow. Our great hope to make it to graduation, pulling down the street…

Shit. Shit. Shit. What are we going to do? I feel my anxiety rising to dangerous levels. My breath quickens. I’m gulping air. I see an old guy on a Vespa heading into the plaza, and decide in a crazy last-ditch effort to flag him down.

He stops.

“Por favor, ¿me prestas tu Vespa?”
I say to him.

He stares at me, not sure how to answer. I want to borrow his Vespa. Naturally, he doesn’t look pleased by the idea. Damn, I don’t have time to debate this.

“Por un momento, lo prometo,”
I say, hoping that will make a bit of a difference. I look at him beseechingly and, miraculously, the guy climbs off.

I have a real skill in vehicle jacking. There’s my Plan B if the screenwriting thing doesn’t work out. The poor guy just stares after me, bewildered. He’ll get it back momentarily; he just doesn’t know that yet.

Having never ridden a Vespa before, I’m a bit wobbly, but my determination wins out over my lack of skills, and quickly I’m on the road, right behind the Jeep. The thought occurs to me that, once again, I’ve found myself in yet another cliché-ridden movie scene. Although, if this were a movie instead of my pathetic life, things would probably end differently. I would be chasing my love, racing against time to tell him that I was wrong, that I do love him and can’t live without him. He would jump out of the car and proclaim his undying love for me as well. Everyone would applaud and we would live happily ever after. But that is so not happening here.

I pull alongside the Jeep.

“Max! Max!” I yell. “Stop!”

Max, sitting in the passenger seat, turns to see me.

“Kylie, what are you doing?” he yells through the open window.

“Just stop the car.”

Charlie pulls the Jeep to the side of the road, and I jump off the Vespa. Max looks at me. Our eyes meet, and for an instant it’s yesterday again. It’s just him and me and I’m happy and in love. But then my eyes shift ever so slightly to the left, and I see Lily sitting in the back, her pinched little face pushing into the front seat, and I’m thrown back to reality.

All three of them jump out. Great. The Three Musketeers. The thought of riding home with them makes my stomach turn.