Here Comes Trouble

Chapter Thirteen - A Retrospective

Selena narrows her eyes in the mirror, frowning as she straightens her tie, and pulls her socks evenly above her knees. With one last glance, she grabs her bag and hurries down the stairs, distractedly watching her hand run over the smooth banister. She breathes evenly, trying to ease the tension in her stomach. The house is eerily quiet, her every movement seems to echo is the hollowness of its walls.

As she turns the corner to the dining room, her eyes immediately go to the head of the table, her father's chair, no matter the meal. Empty.

She breathes once...twice...closes her eyes against the onslaught of sadness that washes over her entire body. Her knees buckle, and her chest quakes, she's sure the room has started spinning and her therapist words get pushed further and further away from her consciousness.

"-Lena. Miss Selena you need to breathe. Breathe. Yes, good. That's it, breathe with me. Good..."

Selena feels the slightest bit idiotic being told she's doing a good job of breathing. A skill mastered at birth. But being angry takes up more energy than she has to give at the moment, so she soaks up the praise, and breathes.

Once she resurfaces, she's sitting on the floor, being cradled by Ms. Lindsay, her maid/nanny. She leans back tiredly, and offers a shaky smile in thanks.

"Baby...you don't have to go to school, you know."

Selena pauses at that. She thinks about her Father, holed up in his office, only breaking down in solitude, avoiding any and all things. But especially work. She thinks about his tired, red rimmed eyes. She thinks about his obsession with their name. How strong he wants the Gomez' to appear. She thinks about going to school and facing all those worried, hungry eyes and her own grief, and it isn't much of a decision at all.

"Where is he?"

Selena knocks on his door, and enters without waiting for a response. She doesn't make eye contact, as she places a tray on the desk, and settles into the seat adjacent to his.

"I'm excited to start classes," she starts, delicately placing a napkin on her lap, "there's a new Latin teacher, I hear, which will be a welcome change. Maya and I have been weighing soccer or ballet, I'm personally leaning toward ballet, but I could be convinced to do both, I suppose."

She finally chances a look up at him, in between bites, and notices his furrowed brow and tear stained cheeks. He'd obviously been crying before she came in. It was good to give him a chance to sort himself out.

He takes notice of her stare, and tries on a warm smile. Selena thinks it would work if she didn't know him so well, "You shouldn't join a club simply because of your friends, Selena Marie."

A startled smile blooms on her face, as she swallows a piece of her omelet, "I thought you might say that! And I'd argue that more extra circulars look great on applications." She wondered what it was like to be a normal fourth grader, and not have to worry about applications or charity dinners or country clubs. She wonders if she'd like that life or not.

He chuckles quietly, something near genuine, "Alright. Only if you promise not to let your grades slip."

"Of course." She beams, checking her wrist, "Oh darn, I meant to finish all this."

"You'll grab something out of the door."

"Right. Well, I'll stop by after school, give you- all the updates." She trips over her words a bit, instinctively getting ready to say "you both" she feels the chasm in her chest open a little wider and clinches her small fists.

As she opens the door, he calls her name, "...Thank you, sweetie. You're, you're strong, far stronger than me. You'll be the only reason I make it out of this."