It Began Abroad

Mazatlán

I'm lying in my bed daydreaming about Thailand. What is going to happen? How is it going to be? I've been researching a bit of the landscapes just to calm my nerves because God, Thailand is beautiful—at least in the pictures! It's just crazy to think that I am going to be there. I mean, it's on the other side of the world, and . . . Someone's knock interrupts my thoughts.

I open up my bedroom door, and Aria and Evie are there.

"What's up, guys? Not that I don't love to see you," I say smiling.

"Shut up and pack your bags," Aria says.

"What are you talking about? I'm pretty sure I've still got time to pack."

"We're leaving," she says. I am a little confused right now, which she seems to acknowledge with the smirk on her face.

"What do you mean? Where are we going?" I push.

Evie is outside the room with the biggest smile ever.

"WE ARE GOING TO THE BEACH," she screams, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

My birthday was two weeks ago. They see my still confused look, and Evie follows her last comment with a "SURPRISE!" Did they plan a surprise trip to the beach for my birthday?

As if they were reading my mind, Aria says, "Not just for your birthday. We wanted a proper adventure to send you off on your big adventure."

I don't understand why they kept this trip a surprise, but tears start pouring down my cheeks. I feel overwhelmed and so loved by these beings that the atmosphere grows all nostalgic, and now even my mother, who is standing outside the door and knew this all along, is crying, too. I am aware that friendships are not to take for granted. Just the idea of them making a surprise farewell vacation to the beach is enough to feel so loved and understood. But they also know that I love spontaneity—I love unplanned adventures, so the fact that they planned everything just for me to feel the rush makes everything feel more personal. I find myself looking at their faces, full of joy and a bit of sadness, and I just can't help but send a "thank you" to the universe. Thank you, life, for giving me this treasure.

They give me fifteen minutes to pack. When I say goodbye to my parents, my dad gives me some money and kisses my forehead.

"Have fun, sweetie," he says.

"Thank you, dad."

"They are good friends—keep them," my mom adds. As if I didn't already know, but I like that she appreciates them.

* * *

It's an eight-hour road trip, and we're out of road games. We still have a couple of hours to kill. Aria comes up with a game: the first one to see the ocean must scream "mar!" But I'm sure we are not close enough yet, so we stick to looking for random objects like purple cars.

"A purple car?" Aria asks. "Mia, who the hell owns a purple car?"

"Well, believe it or not, someone has to own one. Mexico is a big country," I reply.

The search for the purple vehicle is not going well, but I don't mind sitting in silence, looking through the window, just appreciating the music and the road.

"¡Mar!" I scream. I actually see it—we're here!

* * *

We got to the hotel a few hours ago, changed into our bathing suits and came down to eat something. Aria and Evie want to go swimming now. I love being in water. I love water in any form: rain, rivers, lakes. The sound water makes when it's running. I love the ocean, the sound of the waves, the color of it, what it represents to me. It's like this beautiful but dangerous thing—it's just balance, pure balance of life. I adore it.