desiderium | m. o'hara

nineteen

Do you guys remember Pookie the cat from chapter one? hahahahahaha I didn't 😐

  Rosalina's quiet the entire drive home. She's quiet when we stop at a barnyard cafe for lunch, and she's quiet when I blast Duran Duran from the radio.

  I keep peeking in the rearview mirror at her as I take my turn to drive. She stares out the window with a look of great consideration. There's no mischief in her eyes. She's too serious for a kid who's usually not.

  She really doesn't want to go back to school and face those kids.

  If it were up to me, I'd make us all live at the lake house and play tag in the swimming hole forever. Or I'd pull her from school and enrol her elsewhere. Or I'd pack up everything and move to Miguel's dimension. Anything to get her away from that place, anything to make her happy.

  But life isn't like that. You can't run whenever there's an issue. How are you supposed to grow as a person if you keep running?

  I just wish there was a way for Rosalina to grow without facing the harsh challenges of life.

  Miguel's trying his best to uplift the mood. He sits in shotgun and keeps pointing out interesting aspects of the scenery to our daughter; a river, a train, a flock of birds. Rosalina's the type to usually get excited about every little thing. She doesn't.

  "The finals are tomorrow," I mention. My gaze lifts to the rearview mirror again. "Are you excited?"

  Rosalina doesn't answer. Her silence stretches.

  "I'm excited," Miguel says.

  I send him a dry look from the side of my eyes. "Thanks, amor."

  Rosalina smiles slightly, but it falls just as fast as it appeared. She remains this way for the rest of the drive home, and continues her silence through the grocery trip. She drags her feet as we walk down the aisles.

  "Do you think we should put her into counselling?" I ask Miguel quietly enough so Rosita doesn't overhear. I glance at her again from over my shoulder. "I'm worried about her."

  "Maybe," he answers. He pushes the trolley, which is always a funny sight. He makes it look teeny. "I can talk to Zeke about it."

  "Who?"

  "Ezekiel Sims," Miguel clarifies. "From Earth-4. He's a Spider-Man." He shrugs a shoulder. "Also a registered therapist. He might know what to do."

  "I can't take her to see him," I remind. I grab a loaf of bread and put it in the cart. "She's got enough going on without learning about the multiverse."

  "He could always come here," Miguel says, and I hum in consideration. He peeks back at Rosalina. "We'll see how the next few days go." At my worried frown, he rests a hand on my back. "She'll be okay. She's got us."

  I sigh. Not everyone looks out for her like us, though.

  When we get home it's time for dinner. Miguel and I cook while Rosalina curls up on the couch and watches tv. She doesn't engage in conversation at the table when we eat, and she doesn't respond to Miguel's and my encouraging words. My worry only deepens. 

  She comes knocking at our door after we settle down for the night. The hinges creak as it's hesitantly swung open. Miguel sits up and peers through the darkness, more alert than I, his eyes better than mine. He taps my shoulder to rouse me fully.

  "Hello?" Rosalina whispers, and pokes her head through the crack of the door.

  "Papita." I pull myself up groggily. "Why are you still awake?"