Hearts Detached

Prologue 2017

Ever since I was a kid, all I can remember thinking about is having best friends like in comedy shows and love like in romantic movies, much like the ones my parents had before they passed away. I wait for an unexpected and unanticipated love connection with another person. I think that type  of love is the most breathtaking kind there is. When we don't attempt to control the situation in any way, we let chemistry take over, which is a genuine and unique relationship that forms all by itself. All that was about to change when I was unable to get rid of this strange sensation as I lay on my bed watching my favorite program, The Vampire Diaries, while waiting for my parents to return from their anniversary date. When I looked down at my ringing phone, it was my best friend Maya on the other end of the line.
"Abs, have you told your parents yet?" Maya says. "The Core Four is just waiting on you."
"I haven't had the opportunity to do so, but when they come back, I will." I responded to her by telling her that during the preceding three weeks, I had completed every duty that I was able to do and that when I became 15, I did not want a quinceañera. The traditional party every Hispanic girl has for her coming of age—a vacation—is what I wanted, but I wanted to wait until I was 16 before going. I was the last one in my friend group to turn 16, so I worked a part-time job at Ben & Jerry's so it would allow me to accumulate sufficient savings for the trip in this manner. As the night went on, we continued to discuss and plan out this weekend trip. Hopefully, they would agree to my going so that I could have some fun with my friends, but regardless of that, we continued to talk about it until I dozed off into sleep. After that, I didn't have to wait long until the phone started ringing at three in the morning. It was my grandmother, but that strange feeling I had earlier crept back in.  
"Abuela?" I could tell that my voice was becoming hoarse as I talked on the phone.
"Mija, there has been an accident." Those words kept playing over and over in my head. That evening, my stomach turned into a knot, and the only thing I was aware of was that both of my parents had passed. One day I was at home, in my own room, in the house that my parents had built, and the following day I was living with my grandparents in their guest bedroom, which was going to become my new room. After hearing such heartbreaking information, I did not believe I would ever get over it. It is never easy to say goodbye to a parent. You will never be ready for it; the thought of never seeing them again is the most awful thing that could happen. The first night was by far the most difficult. I asked myself, "Could things in my life get any worse for me?" I was completely unaware of what was in store. I had no clue that the year that followed the accident, which ended up being the best year of my life, would simultaneously turn out to be the worst. Even if the death of my parents had not already left a gaping hole in my heart, the experiences that happened during my junior year utterly shattered what was left of it, and I was left with nothing but shards. The happenings of that year assisted me in gaining a better perspective on things. My time spent with Brook Shaw, Ricky Holt, and Mateo Rollins showed me that your life would inevitably include all three kinds of individuals in some combination at some point.  

To begin, there are the people who were there for you at the worst of times and who came to your aid. Second, there are those who leave you in the dust even when faced with the most difficult circumstances. And lastly, there are the people who intentionally place you in the most difficult circumstances. The place where Brooklyn, Riccardo, and Mateo belong is simple; they are the ones who placed me in this situation and left me there to fend for myself. I was aware that love is not something that can be easily obtained since, if it were, everyone would have it. In addition to this, not all love is reciprocated, not all relationships are destined to last, and most significantly, not all love is genuine. In spite of our best efforts to the contrary, it remains the case. It's a bummer when you have to learn something the hard way and end up alienating friends or even yourself in the process, but if there was ever a chance to change every step that got me to every good moment I shared—a bad one, a laugh, a smile, and tears—well, if I'm being honest, I wouldn't change a thing. I would do it all over again, even with the agony this time. Life is full of lessons that shape you into the person you become. Knowing now that if I hadn't gone through that, it would not have made me the person that I am, going through the pain they created was what was needed to realize what I wanted from life, who I wanted to be a part of it, and who I did not want to be a part of it.

"Abby, you are making excellent headway with this." Dr. Bozzellie interrupts my train of thought as he removes his notebook and pen from his lap. Over the course of the last four years, Dr. Bozzellie has served as my therapist. He was a middle aged guy with a square, sculpted face and blackish-gray hair. The number of times I compared him to Patrick Dempsey, who played McDreamy, aka Derek Shepherd, on the medical show Grey's Anatomy. When I was thirteen years old, I had a hard time figuring out who I was. While every one of my friends was experiencing a glow-up, I was stuck at the same level. Because of this, I ended up spending time in the hospital twice within the span of a single year. That was when McTherapist was assigned to my case, and it was going great, but after the passing of my parents, Bozzellie and my grandparents decided that it would be beneficial to maintain another year with him. I intended to cut off my contact with him approximately three months ago, but I relapsed and started seeing him again. I fixed my eyes on the table that was in front of us. There were two large envelopes, each containing a letter of admission from a university. I got full scholarships to all these universities. I didn't think I was even making it to university; hopefully, this makes up for the stupid decision I made months or years ago.
"I still haven't even chosen a major, Bozzellie. How can I decide on a university? I didn't even think I would get in," I said.
"Even though the past year was hard for you, Abby, you got full rides to these amazing schools; you don't have to pick a major right away, you know." He says this as he wipes the tears running down his face.
"Also, I know that your parents are as proud of you as your grandparents are of you." Bozzellie continued. While I was picking at my chipped nail polish, he brought up the two envelopes, which were from two great places: one at UC Berkeley and the other at UC Santa Barbara. Bozzellie takes out a quarter from his pocket. We've always had this quarter since our session, when I couldn't decide whether I wanted the yellow or the purple journal, and when I could not make a decision, we would flip a coin. If I was disappointed with the outcome, we would always go with the losing option.
"Should we flip a coin one last time?"
"Are we leaving the fate of my future to the coin? Come on, Bozzellie."
"Don't diss the coin now, Abby; just call it."
He tosses the coin up so fast, I almost forgot how to speak. But I managed, "Heads Berkeley, tails Santa Barbara." I said as my hands covered my eyes, keeping a small gap between my fingers. That second the coin fell on the table felt like a lifetime, knowing that my future was all up to a coin. The coin finally landed on the table, and I uncovered my eyes, staring at the results. Bozzellie took a pause, waited for a reaction, and then took out the envelope. Now my future was right there in front of me. Going back to 2017, where the whole drama happened, with everything that I now know and seeing where I am now, I thought back to what Bozzellie said early about my progress. Sitting right there, I thought to myself, "Have I made progress?"