CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
I hole up in Mario's room all night to avoid everybody and only go out once to use the bathroom. I poke my head over the balcony and listen. Everyone is still awake and I could hear them devising a game plan on how to save me after the exchange. After ten seconds I've had enough. What's the point?
I head back to Mario's room and the beanbag that's going to be my final bed in the U.S. Mario's snoring away. I can't even close my eyes. Sleep is futile. I stay up and stand at the window to meet the sunrise, a glowing mixture of pink and red, yellow and orange.
What's my life going to become from here on out? My future self said not to give in to the Peace Hunters, but what am I supposed to do? How do I get out of all of this? Is there even a way out? What are they going to do to me? If I were to say I'm not terrified, I'd be lying. Better to keep on not saying anything.
I hear a tap on Mario's door. Delva pokes her head around. When she sees that I'm up, she whispers, "Ay, I'm sorry! Did not mean to wake you so early."
"It's okay. Not much sleeping going on anyway."
She tiptoes over to me. "I wanted to say goodbye," she whispers.
"It was nice meeting you, Delva."
She brushes her thumb against my cheek. "Ten cuidado. Que dios te bendiga. Be careful. I prayed for you."
"I don't know what that means, but it sounded really nice."
She wipes her eyes and smiles. "You are good boy. Thank you for doing this."
"It's all my fault."
"Maybe. But it no matter whose fault it is ..."
Mario lets out a snort and rolls over on his side away from the dawn coming into the window.
Delva glances at him. "I let you go. I know you have a lot on your mind." She passes her fingers over my forehead in the shape of a cross. "En el nombre del Padre, y del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo. Amén." She goes on her tippy toes and gives me the warmest kiss on my cheek. Then she tiptoes out the door and eases it shut behind her.
Mario wakes up at the soft sound of the door closing and cracks open an eye. "Have you even slept at all?" he croaks.
"Not really."
He wipes his eyes and sits up in bed. "Nervous?"
"Truthfully, probably not as much as I should be."
"I'm nervous as hell for you."
"Don't be. Soon enough, you'll have Edwin back at home, safe and sound, and you guys can get on with your lives."
He stares down at his sheets. "Man, I miss that kid."
I feel a pang of jealousy. I've never had any moments with Edwin to miss. And I never will.
"Take care of him," I say. "You know, for me. When he's older, tell him good things about me. Don't let him turn into a mess like his father."
"Dude, stop talking like you're not coming back. You're a part of this family, and we don't leave family behind."
I shudder with warmth at him calling me family, even if it does me no good now.
"I'm gonna go brush my teeth," I say.
I glance at my phone. No missed calls or messages. I don't know what I was expecting to see. Maybe a reason not to go? But not even Meesha has gotten back to me. I should feel relieved at this. This is what I wanted. To detach, disconnect. But it only darkens the morning.
In the bathroom, I splash cold water over my face and take a hard look at myself. My face has aged. I look tired. I am tired. My mind is stuck on fast-forward. There's a bad feeling stuck to me. I guess it's expected when you're sacrificing yourself.
I decide to soak in hot shower and try to relish my final moments of liberty. Doesn't work. After five minutes, I consider it a waste. Nothing can calm me.
When I storm out, Dakota's waiting outside. Her eyes are bloodshot and she's coughing and holding a blood-soaked tissue over her nostrils.
She looks surprised, but then coughs out, "Hey. Morning."
"You look bad."
"You're such a gentleman."
"You know how I meant it. You're not feeling well, are you? That's a lot of blood."
Suddenly, the feelings I've been burying have crawled their way out, whacking me in the gut. My nerves are buzzing like a hummingbird's wings.
She coughs again and holds her sleeve to hide her mouth and nose. "I'm fine," she mumbles. She takes the sleeve away and snaps, "Please don't look at me with that pity face!"
It's time to say it. "I couldn't care less," I tell her. "I don't care if you had crust around your eyes or was head to toe in shit. You'd still look like a damn princess. You're frickin' beautiful."
She stares at me, then gets her armor back up. "Thank you, but I'm sure princesses have servants to clean the crust from their eyes every morning—"
I step closer. "But you look sick. You're getting worse, aren't you?"
She backs away. "It's nothing. It happens every morning. I'm used to it. I just haven't taken my medicine yet. Once I do, I'll be like new."
"But you won't be. Like new. You know that. You have to tell Perry. You know you do."
She backs away again. "I'll tell Perry when and if I decide to. This isn't the time to get into this. You promised."
I grab her hand. "But I may not be around. I promised I'd protect you, but I don't know whether I'm going to be able to. You need someone who can take care of you. Who you know without a doubt will be around."
She pulls her hand free. "I don't need to be protected! I don't need a hero. I've done pretty damn well on my own so far." She pushes past me into the bathroom and slams the door.
