Fire and Rain [🗸]

14. myles guzman and shitty memories

to charlie <3

***

MOM HAS KEPT UP HER SILENT ACT for a couple of days now.

I pretend that I don't notice when she passes by me in the house without a word. I pretend I don't notice her saying the bare minimum and not much more to me when she has to. I pretend, I pretend, I pretend.  I'm good at that, acting like nothing hurts.

So, when the doorbell to our house rings, breaking through the relative silence, I'm more than ready to rise to my feet and make my way over to the door.  Zahra's been checking in on me, texting me for hours and end just to make sure that I'm afloat. 

It's our second last day at Greenport before we head over to Providence. I've been counting down the days. Any interruption, anything to distract me from the time that seems to be dragging by.

When I open the door, my eyebrows fly upwards. 

The person looks vaguely familiar, but I can't be sure. He's not too much older than me and tall, well over six feet with rich brown skin and dark eyes. He's wearing a plain t-shirt with simple jeans and white sneakers. He catches my eyes when I catch his and extends a hand.

"Hey, I'm—" he starts, but Mom rushes into the space, almost appearing out of nowhere like an apparition. Mom grabs onto his arm, smiling a too large grin. "Luce!" Mom says, still holding onto the guy's arm. "Don't you remember Myles?"

As if on cue, Dad walks into the foyer, saying, "we invited him over."

The information circles over and over in my mind. Myles, Myles, Myles. And then the pieces fall together. Myles Guzman. He was one of those family friends who you couldn't quite be sure was biologically related or not, but your families were so close that it didn't quite matter.

I do remember get-togethers and the occasional barbecues, but his family—at least, Myles—fell off the grid shortly after, and all those memories melted and faded once they went. The last time I remember seeing him was when his family visited from Arizona freshman year, and we only had a brunch until they were gone again.

The question to why Myles Guzman is here right now at this very moment must be playing behind my eyes because my parents speak up once more.

Mom lightly clears her throat and meet my eyes. "At the grocery store the other day, I had a little conversation with Father Lawrence who shared some concerns he might have about your spiritual journey." 

My blood runs cold. Myles shifts slightly in the background.

"What do you mean?" I'm asking, and the silence feels deafening.

Mom glances at Dad before allowing her shoulders to sag. "Look. I'm sure you remember Myles." She walks up to him and places a hand on his shoulder. "He went through the same thing that Father Lawrence thinks you might be going through, but he was able to overcome this through lots of support and help."