You're My Sol

Chapter 29

After dinner, Marisol and I went up to my room. We put away her bags and got her settled.

She had put on a brave face in front of my family, but deep down, I knew she was hurting. She had gone through so much in the past twenty-four hours, and I didn't know how to help her.

I decided to start small.

"Marisol?"

"Hm?" She stopped what she was doing and turned around. "What's up?"

"Are you okay?" I said bluntly.

"I'm fi--" Marisol stopped. "No, not really."

It was subtle, but obvious that she was used to hiding her feelings.

"You know you can always talk to me? No matter how you're feeling. Good, bad, okay, not--it doesn't matter," I said.

She lifted the corners of her mouth, but the action didn't extend to her eyes. She stood there in the middle of the room, unmoving, and suddenly the gravity of the situation came crashing over me. She wasn't perfect. She never was. It was always an act, but somehow, around me, she let her guard down. And I didn't know how to deal with this version of her. I didn't know how to help her.

I fell backwards onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was a regular ceiling, nothing special about it. Maybe that's what I needed. A blank space to sort out my thoughts.

The bed caved in next to me. I turned my head slightly. Marisol was lying next to me, her hair flared out across the blankets. She was staring up at the ceiling as well, her eyes searching.

"I don't know what to do," Marisol said quietly.

She turned her head towards me, and gravity pulled the tears in her eyes downwards onto my mattress.

A pang hit my heart. It hurt, seeing her like this.

"I don't know, either," I said.

Marisol turned back to the ceiling. Her eyes fluttered closed as she rested the back of her hand over her eyes.

"I just thought, maybe, for the first time, I'd have a family. People who I could turn to, who would always love me. I thought, when I went to live with my aunt and uncle, that things would be different. That they would love me."

Tears streamed down her face, but Marisol made no move to wipe them away.

"I had Diego, maybe. But my aunt and uncle? They hate me. They made it pretty obvious. My aunt didn't even try to pretend when you were around. She said some terrible things to me. And..." she sniffled. "Those things really get to you. I tried not to care. But it hurt."

Marisol took a deep breath.

"I thought maybe, if I was perfect, that I could prove myself to them. I worked my ass off to get good grades. I tried to join track and be good at it. I joined a bunch of extra-curriculars, but nothing ever seemed to be good enough. They didn't even care enough to offer to pick me up from the 'animal conservation dinner.'"

Marisol chuckled darkly.

"But there was really nothing I could do. My aunt already made up her mind about me, long before I was even born. She always hated my mom."

My eyes widened in shock. Marisol had never mentioned her parents before.

"When my dad started dating my mom, my aunt would make rude comments about her. She would make fun of her, belittle her any chance she got. She kept reminding her that she would never be a part of the family. Maybe it was because she wasn't Mexican. I don't know." Marisol sighed.

"My grandparents never had a problem with them, though. They actually liked my mom. When they came to visit, they were always so nice to me. I remember how fun they were. My grandma always made the most delicious food, and my grandpa always told the best stories."

Marisol's eyes opened, gaining a faraway look. I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. She was opening up and she probably just wanted someone to listen.

"It got worse when my mom refused to invite her to the wedding. My mom never talked about it, but my dad told me the story. My aunt showed up and sat through the ceremony. Surprisingly, nobody noticed. Then, once the priest asked if anyone objected, my aunt stood up. She said that my dad shouldn't marry my mom. My aunt said some terrible things about her, saying she was a disgrace to the family. Of course, my grandpa on my mom's side got heated. He yelled about how he just walked his daughter down the aisle and wasn't going to let someone ruin this special day for her.

"There was screaming. My dad told me someone flipped a table. He always laughed, and never told me who did it. It's weird, he always seemed so nonchalant about the whole thing. Like his wedding day didn't mean anything to him. That always made my mom angry. She wanted him to care, but it seemed like he never did. Maybe that's why..." Marisol trailed off.

"Anyway, at the wedding, it became all out madness. They had to call in police to stop the fighting on all sides. My mom and dad had to cancel the wedding and send everyone home. They continued it in an empty and trashed hall."

Marisol pulled at a strand of hair, twirling it around her finger.

"You know, maybe my aunt was right. Maybe my mom wasn't good enough for my dad."

I looked at Marisol questioningly. From what I heard, Marisol's mom didn't do anything wrong. It seemed like her aunt was irrationally upset.

Marisol smiled sadly at my response.

"My aunt always thought my dad was too good for my mom. I guess she was proven right when my mom went to jail."

My mouth fell open. Things started to click into place.

"So that's why you moved in with your aunt and uncle?"

Marisol nodded, looking away from me.

There was still something I didn't get.

"Why didn't you just live with your dad?"

Marisol stiffened, her body going rigid. She took a deep breath in, then turned her entire body to face me. She looked me straight in the eyes, her face dead serious. There was a hint of anxiety in her expression.

"That's why my mom is in jail."

Chills ran up and down my body.

"Do you mean..."

"That my mom killed my dad? Yeah."

I didn't move. I couldn't do anything for a minute, only stare in shock. That was what she had been dealing with this entire time.

I pulled Marisol close to me and hugged her tight. "I'm so, so sorry."

Marisol buried her head into my shoulder. I felt tears soak into my shirt.