Page 125 of For Cowgirls and Kings

“Oh surely it’s not all that. She wouldn’t leave her family. And do what?”

Do they not notice I’m standing right here? It’s like I’m not even in the room, a child they’re making plans for, my opinion irrelevant because I’m incapable of having one. It’s enough to make me want to scream.

This is my life, right?

“I’m staying,” I state once more, crossing my arms. My father’s shoulders stiffen but he doesn’t turn his expression to me.

“You are the most?—”

“What if she stayed with me through the summer, while I work to sell the house. And then I’ll bring her in the fall.”

I can see my future slipping through my hands like grainsof sand—I'm helpless and can do nothing but watch it disappear. Tears burn my lash line once more, the thought of ever going to Merida enough to make me want to jump from a building.

I’d rather die on my own accord than be smothered to death under my mother’s thumb.

“I don’t think that would be acceptable,” my mother grumbles, her eyes still fixed on my face.

“I think it would do her some good to miss her family. I know she’ll come around.” There’s a long pause, my life hanging in the balance and I have no voice in it. I won’t go, but if I can stay for the summer, maybe I can figure out a plan. A plan to get away.

My mother finally huffs, stomping from the room without another word. And then my father does the same. He fought for me, but onlyjust.

I’m alone—I always have been.

July 30th, 2014

The rain slouches down the small living room window, the late summer Texas rainstorm doing its best impression of a temper tantrum. Lightning flashes across the sky—an ominous warning for what’s next.

The storm matches my mood almost perfectly—dark, angry, and so full of unspent energy and rage I feel fit to explode.

A moving truck sits in the driveway, the image of it a shadowy mirage through the late evening haze and the rivuletsof water cutting through it. I can hardly see it, and yet I feel it like a weight on my chest.

Tomorrow my father and I are set to head to Merida, but I won’t be going. All summer I worked at the Tex-Mex grill, making enough to put down first months rent in a dingy apartment in the town over where I’ll be attending Junior college. Lucky for me, they have an extensive scholarship program, especially for first generation college students, and those with cultural diversity. I’ll only get my first two years, and then have to figure out what comes next.But it’s something.

And even if it’s not glamorous, it’s for me. And that’s the only thing that matters.

I just haven’t figured out how to get up and leave in the middle of the night. Will I ever see my father again? Dani? My mother? Will they disown me, or eventually let me back into their circle?

Who will I be if I’m not a Mendes?

The door opens, the sounds of my father shaking the rain from his coat filling the empty house. I straighten, pulling the book forgotten on the windowsill back into my lap. I pretend to read it as he walks into the living room.

When I lift my eyes to his, I’m met with a sad, somber expression, like the life’s been sucked from him as thoroughly as it’s been sucked from myself. And it breaks my heart.

“Did you already eat?” he asks, leaning against the door.

“Yes, I left a tray of burritos from the restaurant in the fridge for you.” I close the book, not bothering to note the page as I haven’t even seen any of the words all day.

He nods. “You get your last paycheck? Were they sad to see you go?”

I nibble my lip, before offering a small, fake smile. “Got the last paycheck. They made me a going away cake—there’s a piece of it in the fridge for you too.”

He nods again, pushing off the doorway, before pausing. His eyes soften, a sheen filling them before he rapidly blinks, pushing it away. He opens his mouth to say something, and then shakes his soggy hair, thinking better of it.

I know he sees my suffering. But he won’t disobey my mother—that’s just his way. Regardless of who has to suffer.

“I love you, Papa,” I mumble, my heart cracking as the words leave my lips. They might be the last time I ever get to say them to him.

“I love you too, Adalene. Always have,” he says with a small smile, before retreating from the room. “Better get some rest, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”