Page 13 of Hate That Blooms
“There’s a big ass hole in the ground that she could have fallen into and seriously gotten hurt.” I hand over her sister, then stand up, wiping the grass off my pants. “Maybe you should keep a better eye on her.” Inside, part of me regrets saying the words. I know she is trying her best.
“I-I,” she stutters, unable to find the words to stand up for herself.
Come on, call me an asshole. Fight back. You know you’re a good sister. Fuck, you’re an amazing one. Fight me, please. Show some backbone—I know you’ve got it in you.
Silence.
I’m breaking her down.
Gabriela holds her sister to her and cries. I just shake my head, she probably thinks it’s in disgust, but it’s more disbelief that she doesn’t think more of herself. I head back to the truck and gather our tools and prepare to leave. I can’t help but feel like an asshole. I push the feelings aside and remind myself that her dad stole my mom. We hop back into the truck, exhausted but satisfied. Dad turns to me with a tired smile, thanking me for my help. I nod, appreciating the opportunity to be there for him.
At home, I help Dad unload the tools and clean up the truck. The exhaustion catches up with me, but I push through, knowing that we accomplished something important today. Despite the chaos and challenges, we patched the burst pipe and prevented any further damage to the park.
“How do burgers for dinner sound? You busted your ass out there today, Mijo. I’m proud of you.”
I can’t help but beam with pride. Dad doesn’t throw out compliments often, so I’ll take it.
“Sounds great! I’ll get the BBQ started.” This is turning out to be a pretty good Sunday for us.
* * *
Later that evening, as I sit on my bed, I reflect on the events of the day. The comment on Gabriela’s picture has a response, and I click on it.
Gabriela: Le gustas y no ha dejado de hablar del chico que la salvó del agujero. Gracias por hoy.
She’s thanking me after I berated her today. Fuck, this girl is gonna be the death of me. Swear to fucking God.
Chapter7
Gabriela
On the floor of the shower, I let it all out. I cry harder than I have in a long time, the emotions of the past few months tearing me apart. With Dad leaving, Mom is working herself into depression, and Mireya is struggling with being in a school program full time. And everything else falls on my shoulders—the daily home life, being my sister’s caregiver when I’m not in school. Can’t forget school—I'm trying so hard to keep my grades up so I graduate in June.
“Why me?” I whisper, hoping that something out there in the vast universe hears me and can give me answers. “I’m a good person. Why?” I pull my knees to my chest and let the water fall over me
Time slips away, and a rap on the door brings me back. “Mija, I need to get going. Reya needs a bath tonight. I’ll be home before you leave for school in the morning.”
Her footsteps thud down the hall, and I am left alone.Like always.I turn the shower off and slide the door open, pulling a towel from the rack and wrapping it around myself. The warm water did little to wash away the overwhelming burden that consumes my life. I dry myself off and stare at my reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror. My eyes are red and puffy from crying, and I can see the exhaustion etched on my face. Graduation is just five months away, but it feels like an insurmountable goal amidst the chaos of my life.
Wrapping the towel tighter around me, I step out of the bathroom, greeted by the sound of Mireya giggling. Mom must have let her have her tablet while I finished up. It’s a familiar feeling to be left alone to take care of everything. While heading to my room, the reality of my situation becomes clear. I need to keep my grades up, not only for my future but also to make sure that I am set up in case Mireya needs me. June feels like a lifetime away, and I fear I may crumble under the pressure before then.
* * *
With Mireya fed, bathed, and in bed for the night, I scramble to finish up any remaining homework. I lay in bed reading my AP English required reading and jotting down notes on key points I think the teacher will bring up during class. I finish the chapter and get everything for tomorrow, my clothes set out, and my backpack ready to go. In the kitchen, I make Mireya’s lunch and set her clothes out. Sliding under the covers of my bed, phone in hand, I send a few texts to Cora and Nat.
Are you guys awake?
Natalie: Yep, I just finished my history report. I am about to go to sleep.
Cora: I just got home.
Oh? What did you do tonight?
Cora: Don’t be mad, but I went to a movie with Thiago.
Natalie: You didn’t!
It’s whatever, I guess.
