Boulevard of broken dreams

chapter one

I want to smoke. The silence is insufferable, but it's better than the discussion we had earlier. Mom was driving. From time to time, I could see her gripping the steering wheel tightly. Not even once did she turn to look at me. She was angry. She, too, was sad, disappointed, anxious, broken, and desperate. I knew it. She had told me frequently. And now all those feelings were on the surface. Well, it's not a cheerful thing to be taking your son to the Justina Ford Institute for Adolescent Rehabilitation. I didn't know if those feelings were towards me or herself. Or maybe both. She wasn't to blame, though. As much as I'd like to blame her. I hate what I am doing to her, but a part of me hates she made such a big deal out of it, and I wish she just leave me alone. I would have liked it if she brought Sofia, too. But thinking about it, it was better not to, given the situation in which I find myself. It's not an excellent memory to see your older brother being taken to a medical center. Although the last memory I left her wasn't a very nice one either. Anyway, I should have said goodbye at least. I would have liked to tell her how much I will miss her. She must be angry too. I look at my clothes, and she is right. I have a pistachio ice cream mark in the middle of my black hoodie. Of course, I would never tell her. In my opinion, it isn't noticeable, so no one is going to see it. That kind of seems true to me. Who cares how I dress?
Especially at a rehab center. I'm broken, that's why they send me there. I'm allowed to look like something broken. Besides, that stink is the least of my problems. One of my boots is missing a sole, and I laced them lazily. My knees are full of bruises and dried blood that shows through the hole in my jeans. I stained my hands with paint early this morning. Yellow, brown, green, light blue. I placed my hand in my mouth and start biting my nails. One second later, I put it back on my lap. Mom hates when I do that.

"We are almost there"

"Great," I said ironically. He couldn't wait to lie and get out of there as fast as possible and get back to Maria. She always gets me what I want. I would kill for a cigarette right now. I wasn't used to traveling for a long time by car. Cambiar de aires[1]. That had been the excuse my mom gave me to send me to another city. Not just any city, neither more nor less than Denver. I don't know if it was worth the three hours of travel. I promised him to try for three months, to improve, but we both know it will be a fiasco. There is no hope in me. She should focus on Sofí, she has a wonderful future ahead of her. She can be everything that I could never be. In a way that calms me down. Besides, I only promised her because she kept crying every time I tried to go out or when I came back in the early mornings. I was tired. Like, I just want to do whatever I fucking want with my life. I had a little slip, nothing more. I overdid it but it won't happen again. Also, it's not like I don't want to live. I just want to have fun.

We arrived at some enormous gates with bars with a sign that said 'Welcome to the Justina Ford Institute' in gold letters that already seemed quite old. The guard asked for identification before letting us through. The place was vast. I already understood why my mom told me it was like a camp or a boarding school. Then she stopped saying rehab center and started telling her friends that I was going to a summer camp in Denver. Which sounded fancy and fun and not at all what I would do there. I think that way it spared her the embarrassment she felt for having a son like me. Upon entering, you could see hundreds of trees and grass on the sides of the cement road we were walking on. Already in the background was the most enormous building I have ever seen. A lady, probably the owner of this entire circus, along with two nurses, was already waiting for us outside. She was wearing a pencil skirt that came to below her knees with low heels, all sepia, just like her jacket. The only thing different was her white shirt. She wrapped her curly hair in a bun and her skin almost glowed in the sunlight. On the sides of the building, you could see girls and boys of different ages running and playing. Or just sitting in the shade of the trees. One, in particular, was sitting in the biggest tree I've ever seen. With black jeans and a white tank top. I also spotted a silver cross necklace around her neck. He had a long buzz cut, which gave his face more definition. The blond of his hair looked like the labrador that my neighbor has. I wonder if it will be just as smooth. He was skinny and his wrists were full of bracelets and his fingers full of rings. I wonder what he is reading. He must have felt my gaze because he looked up and locked his eyes on me. His eyes. The color of the foam of the waves crashing against the rocks on the coast. He smiled at me, showing me the gap he had between his incisors. Fuck, that's cute. My face burned, and I immediately turned around before someone else saw me. I felt like I did something I shouldn't have done. As if I had entered the women's bathroom, and they had kicked me out. Or as if someone had caught me masturbating. I'm sure I have a blush on my cheeks. Thank God my skin hides it well. Advantages of being black. When I looked out of the corner of my eye to see if he was still there, looking at me, he was gone.