Let Go

I lug Alden onto the dance floor and he follows me reluctantly. I put my hands above my head and move my feet left to right repeatedly. "C'mon, dance with me." He shakes his head and laughs lightly.

"I don't dance, Blanca."

I shake my head. "People are gonna think you're a bad boyfriend," I say, grinning wickedly.

He rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. He starts moving his feet with me. "Because it's all about what the people want."

I smile, pulling him in by his waist. We sway as the music slows with us. I stare up at him and he gazes back down at me. "Thank you for coming with me tonight," he says.

I smile. "Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugs. "I thought you'd kinda stick around with Julian the whole time."

I raise an eyebrow. "What, do you think we're together?"

He shakes his head. "No, no," he says in a sort of exasperated tone. "I just… I don't know, I feel like he's kind of just as important as me." He makes a face. "That sounds selfish, what I mean is that… I'm not like a boyfriend to you, I'm more like a best friend, or at least on the same level of your best friend…" He pauses. "Does that make sense?"

I nod slowly, still looking at him. "Yeah, yes it does."

He nods, avoiding my eyes. "I just— I don't want to make you feel bad, but I feel like if we're going to date, I should be on a different notch than Julian."

I nod. "Yes, that's understandable. And reasonable." I smile a little. "I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "It's okay." The song changes and he looks around for a moment before meeting my eyes again. "Wanna get out of here?"

Alden leads me to his car and starts driving. It's dark by now. I check the clock. It's almost midnight. I glance at Alden, who is staring straight ahead in silence. He catches my eye and looks back at me. He smiles and pulls over. We're on the side of the road. It seems like we're just outside the city because I can see the lights behind us.

Alden turns off the car and turns to me, taking my hand. He rubs it softly with his thumb and sighs. "I love you, Blanca," he says.

I look up, my heart thumping. "I love you too."

I feel like I do. I mean, maybe I shouldn't focus on whether I do or not. Maybe it would be better if I just thought, 'see how it goes' or 'just go with it.' It was probably better not to stress over it and just slap the label on it. Maybe after doing that, I'll be able to feel it for real.

I lean in and press my lips against his, and a whole rush of excitement and thrill runs through my body. I feel his hand on my back, pulling me in closer. I put one hand on his cheekbone, the other on his shoulder, and lean into him. I want to fall into him, be part of him. I'd never have to say goodnight, never have to let go.

Let go.

The rush plummets and turns into a cold, almost still breeze. Barely moving. I feel my whole body turn to ice, but Alden's lips are still against mine. I love Alden, but what if he can't let go? What if I can't let go? He can't. He has such a hard time when I talk about Julian, let alone hang out with him. How can I be the person that I am when my boyfriend hates my best friend?

I have to let go.

No. No, no, no. I can't let go. I can't. I'll just talk to Alden about it. I'll talk with him, we'll talk it out, we can work this out. We can.

We're unstoppable. Julian said so himself.

I feel Alden's hands collapse from my body and he pulls away. "Blanca?"

I stare at him in the dim light of his car. "What?"

"What's wrong?" He looks at me with furrowed eyebrows.

I shrug. "Nothing," I say unconvincingly.

He raises his eyebrows. "Blanca."

I look out the windshield. "Nothing," I say again.

Alden sighs exasperatedly. "Blanca, come on."

I shake my head. "I just—" I can't say it.

"What?"

I turn back to him. "I don't want to break up." Crap.

Alden looks taken aback. "What?" he asks, laughing lightly. Not a good laugh, a confused, concerned one.

"I— I'm worried."

Alden shakes his head and takes my hand. "Why?"

I look down. "Alden, I just feel like something's wrong. I— I'm not happy." I look at him with wide eyes.

He hesitates. "You—" He stops, still processing my words. "You're not?" His eyes are teary.

"I just— I feel like we should take a break." I hate it. I hate this. I don't want these words to come out of my mouth, but here they are, pouring out of me like water from a pitcher.

"A— A break?" Alden chokes.

I can't do this. "No, no, never mind, we should just— Let's forget this. I'm happy."

I stare at Alden, gripping his hand anxiously. I know it's too late, but I'm still trying to redeem myself.

Alden shakes his head and jerks his hand out of mine. "No." I can barely hear him. "I— If you're not happy, I don't want to make it worse."

"You're not, you're not," I say, trying to save it.

"Just— Stop it. I can't keep up with your lies."

I back away slightly, gaping at Alden. "Are you talking about New Year's Eve?" I scoff. I don't mean to, it just slips out. But I shouldn't try and to defend myself, because this is ridiculous. "Alden, that was months ago."

He shakes his head. "Blanca, that hurt me, do you not realize— Whatever. I just—" He stops abruptly.

I stare at Alden. I don't even know what to say or do. "Alden," I muster, "it's over."

He looks at me straight on. I can see his eyes brimming with tears. "It is?" His voice is soft and brittle.

I nod, avoiding his eyes. "I can't. You're right, I've been lying." I feel a hurting pang in my throat. "I don't love you."

His eyes suddenly widen more, the tears spilling out, overflowing like a pot of water. He doesn't say anything, he just stares.

Without another word, he turns away, starts the car and drives down the road, silently. The car is freezing cold, a wall between us so thick you couldn't hear the other person breathing if you tried.

He pulls in front of my house in five minutes and doesn't get into park. "If it's over, then get out."

I feel a burning feeling in my nose and eyes, my throat, everywhere. I can't explain it. What am I doing? "Alden, I'm sorry," I say. I know it sounds stupid, but I can't think about how much hurt Alden is feeling right now. "Alden, just— Let's talk, please—"

"Get out, Blanca." He whips his head towards me, his face and eyes red.

I feel it. The tears. I haven't cried since the day Dad left. It's been five years. They stream down my face, silently, sneakily. I stare at Alden in disbelief. "Please—" I just can't let him go.

"Blanca, get out of my car!" Alden screams.

I jerk back, open the door, and run to the door, because if I'm being honest, I'm scared. I'm not scared that Alden yelled, I'm not scared about hurting his feelings, I'm scared for myself. That might sound selfish, but it's true. I'm scared because I don't know what I'm going to do now. Alden has occupied so much of my time since November. What am I going to tell Matty and Julian? How am I going to be able to go to school without feeling a sting in my chest every time I pass Alden in the hall or see him at lunch?

"Blanca?"

Oh no. I can't do this tonight. Why is she home early?

I walk down the hall, wiping the tears off my face desperately. I pray that my makeup is still flawless, or at least for the most part. I smile and enter the kitchen. Mom is standing her scrubs, filing through the fridge. "Hi, Mami," I whisper, worried that she'll be able to tell I was crying. I wonder if Alden is still outside.

Mom turns and her jaw drops at the sight of me. I hope it's not because she knows that I just broke up with the boyfriend she didn't know about. She plants a hand on her hip and gazes at me, smiling a little. That's rare. "Ay, mija, you look gorgeous." She puts her hand on her heart. "Truly."

If Alden and I hadn't just broken up, I would be crying happy tears because my mom is telling me I'm beautiful. How sad is that? "Gracias, Mamá." I tap on the floor with my foot. "What are you doing home early?" I guess it's twelve thirty. It's her normal time. Or it was. She's been working later and later recently.

She shrugged. "They said I should go home, get some rest." She sighs. "What about Matty? Where is he?"

"Oh, I left early," I say. "Everyone else is still there." Except for Alden. "I just got tired, so I decided to come home." And break up with my boyfriend. My heart lurches threateningly. "Well, I'll go to bed, mamá." I walk over, kiss her on the cheek, and rush upstairs before I burst into tears.

* * *

Crying is more painful than I remember. I'm insanely lucky that prom was on a Friday because I have all weekend to grieve. My eyes are red and sting painfully every time I blink.

I sit up in bed and glance at my alarm clock. It's almost eleven. I don't sleep in very often, but I guess I really needed that after last night. I feel my eyes tear up again bury my face in my pillow. After a moment, I turn my head and spot my dress, crumpled on the floor next to my shoes. I'm grateful that I cleaned off my makeup last night, or else there would have been purple eyeshadow and black mascara and eyeliner all over my sheets and pillowcase.

I hear the door open and glance over. It's Julian. He walks in slowly, avoiding my eyes. "Hey," he says ominously.

I sit up and brush down my oversized tee. "Hi."

He looks at me. "Where did you go last night?"

I look out the window. Julian has never seen me cry. I just realized that. "Home."

Julian sits at the end of my bed. "Are you okay?"

I look at him, eyes teary. "Alden and I broke up."

Julian's eyes widen. "What?"

I nod, looking down and letting the tears drop onto my bed.

"Why?"

"Julian, I haven't been happy." I stare at him, letting the tears flow. "I don't love him. I just— I stayed with him because I didn't want to break his heart."

Julian stands up and paces the room for a moment. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks softly.

I sniff. "What?"

He whips his eyes at me and stops walking. "Why didn't you tell me, Blanca?" He sounds hurt. Why do I keep hurting everyone in my path?

I shrug. I feel so helpless. "I didn't want to upset you."

Julian scoffs softly. "Upset me?" he repeats. "How could you upset me? You're the one who's upset!"

I feel more tears coming, but I don't want them to. It makes me feel stupid. Weak. "I just didn't want to disappoint you! I'm finally in a relationship, you're so happy!" I yell. I don't want to yell. I hate it. And I hate fighting with Julian. I only fought with Julian once, but it wasn't this bad. We weren't yelling.

"I'm happy, Blanca? I'm not the one dating someone! Why should it matter if I'm happy?"

Anger bubbles inside me. "Because you're my best friend, Julian! I care! Why don't you date people? I feel like I need to help you! I'm worried!"

Julian scoffs. "Why are you worried?"

I sigh loudly. "Because! You don't date, you don't talk about your romantic or sexual feelings, not with me. That's not normal, Julian! Talk to me! Talk to me about girls!"

"Oh my gosh!" Julian rumbles. "I can't talk to you about girls, Blanca!"

"Why not? You can! You can talk to me, Julian—"

"I can't because I'm gay, Blanca!"

It hits me like a bag of bricks to the head. I fall silent. I don't know what to say or do.

Julian sighs through tears. "Don't call me," he says, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

"Thank you," I say softly as the lunch lady plops a slice of pizza onto my foam tray. I grab an apple and a bunch of grapes and hand the other lunch lady at the register two one-dollar bills. She nods silently, giving me the 'okay' to move along and let the other kids pay.

I go and sit at an empty table. It's the one by the trash cans, and hardly anyone sits over here. Not because it smells or anything, just because of the social status crap. People think that if you sit by the trash cans, you don't have friends.

Who knew they could've been right?

I spot Julian walking into the cafeteria, talking with Yvonne. I watch as she eyes me with wide doe eyes like she doesn't know what to think, whose side to choose. Julian ushers her to the lunch line and she disappears behind a group of people. I stare straight ahead. I feel alone more than ever. I remember the feeling. Right after Dad left, I felt like there was no one in the world who could make me feel wanted or loved. I felt like no one cared about me like no one cared what happened to me in the end. It only mattered to myself, and at that time, it hardly even did. When I met Julian, it changed everything. I felt like I could restart, like I didn't need my dad to make friends and grow relationships. And with Alden, it felt even stronger. But now that both Julian and Alden are gone, I just don't know what I'm going to do. Or how I'm going to do it.

Then I see Alden, looking around for a place to sit. I can't do it. I can't sit here and watch the two people I care about most without me. That might sound selfish, but I just can't. It'll make me start crying or try to go and talk to them, even though I know I'm not ready for that, and neither are they. I stand up, toss the rest of my lunch into the trash, and walk to the library to just be alone for a while. People are allowed to go to the library during lunch, but no one really does. It's nice and quiet, so I come here sometimes. Only, I don't regularly come alone. Usually Julian and I come together and mess around quietly.

It feels weird sitting alone in here.

It feels weird being alone.

* * *

"Where's Alden?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"I haven't seen him since prom. That was almost a month ago." Matty slathers peanut butter onto his slice of bread. He plops a spoonful of jelly onto the other slice and collides them together.

I nod "We've been busy."

Matty raises an eyebrow as he bites into his sandwich. "You haven't been busy at all." He pauses. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen you anywhere but here and school lately. Where's Julian at?"

"He's seeing his mom." I avoid Matty's eyes and gaze out the window.

"Wow. How did that happen?" Matty asks.

I shrug. "She just invited him over."

He nods and takes another bite. "You should invite Alden over. Mom won't be home for hours." He looks at me and smiles. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!" he adds jokingly.

I smile a little. "I already texted him. He's busy."

Matty makes a face. "It's important to spend time with your boyfriend," he says. "It builds the relationship."

"I ate with him at lunch today," I say. "It's not like I haven't seen him since prom."

I'm lying to everyone in my life.

* * *

I'm sitting on my bed, looking through my yearbook from last year. It's the one with the newest and latest school picture I have of Alden. It's the one that looks most like him now. I hear the garage door slam and I sit up. I shove my yearbook under the bed and go downstairs. "Matty?" I call.

"Hola, mija!" Mom's voice replies. "Come, let me see you."

I raise my eyebrows. "Its only eight," I whisper to myself.

I hear Mom piling groceries onto the counter. I round the corner and enter the kitchen. She smiles at me. "Blanca, amor," she says, putting down the groceries ad walking to me. She cups my cheeks in her palms and looks at me with warm eyes. "Your brother has offered to pay for dinner tonight." She grins. "Come, he's waiting in the car."

I raise an eyebrow. "Why?"

She shrugs. "He said he needed practice paying at restaurants." She and I walk to her car in the garage and get in. I slide into the backseat and pull my seatbelt over my chest as Matty starts the car. He starts driving downtown, where the nice places are.

We get to a steakhouse in about fifteen minutes and head inside. Matty finds us a table, helps seat Mom and me, and orders for all of us. Later, when our food arrives, it's steaming on hot ceramic plates. I ordered a plate of mashed potatoes and gravy with steak and eggs on the side. I take a sip from my glass of water (yes, the water was free) as Matty and Mom talk softly to one another. I feel like since our family never goes out, we always feel weird in public places. Like restaurants. Whenever we go out to eat, we talk at almost a whisper because it feels so elegant. Or at least that's why I talk quietly in restaurants. Maybe Matty and Mom are just really quiet people.

Matty suddenly turns to Mom and me. "Mamá, Blanca," he says, looking back and forth between us, a slow, small smile curving on his face, "I have some exciting news."

Mom puts down her fork and tilts her head to the side.

Matty takes a deep breath. "I got into Harvard."

I blink a few times. I blink some more. Mom exclaims in joy and surprise. "Oh!" she cries. "Matías! How wonderful!" She takes a few heavy breaths. "I didn't know you applied there!"

Nor did I.

He nods excitedly. "As soon as I graduate, I'm going to move out." He grins at Mom. "I'm going to do it, Mami," he says softly, taking her hand.

I've never seen Mom more proud of Matty. She embraces him tightly and whispers sweet nothings into his ear in Spanish. I remain still. Graduation is in a month.

I can't.

He can't.

I don't have Julian, I don't have Alden, Matty is all I have left.

He can't leave.

Not yet.

Mom and Matty chat quietly about Harvard as I pick at my food that now tastes bitter and sour in my mouth. After about an hour, Matty pays the check pridefully and we go back to the car. I'm silent the whole way home.

When we get home, Matty and Mom curl up on the couch and look at housing in Massachusetts on Matty's computer.

Massachusetts. That's all the way across the country. Who am I gonna have now? Mom is never around, Julian and Alden are gone, I have no one left. Making new friends is a resort I don't even want to consider. Imagine making friends from scratch at seventeen. It isn't pretty.

I'm going to be all alone.

It's not that I don't like alone time, I love alone time. I have my own thing, I can do it when I want, how I want, et cetera. But just knowing that I could have someone, like Julian or Alden or Matty, knowing that I had someone before, that's what scares me. Knowing that I'm lonely when I wasn't lonely before.

Thinking of what could've been.

* * *

April is rushing by quicker than I'm comfortable. It feels like I'm stuck in the ocean, and I am trying to stay in one place, but the waves make that impossible. They bring me up and down, left and right, over and under.

It's like I'm drowning.

I'm suffocating in homework, SAT scores, and heartache. I'm surrounded by so much stuff. It's not even all sad or painful, just so much is around me, building higher and higher like a trash bin that has never been emptied. It's overwhelming.

School is a living nightmare. I get there and I'm sad because I know I have no friends, and then when I see Alden or Julian, it's like being stabbed in the back and punched in the gut at the exact same time. And in the middle of it all, I'm smothered with end-of-year testing. I just hope I don't have to be held back another year. I can barely focus during the tests. All I can think about is Alden and Julian and Matty.

I open the front door and slam it behind me. I don't mean to slam it so hard, but it's just what happens. I haven't been getting rides from Matty lately because I'd rather walk home for half an hour than come straight home and cry in my room.

Matty is standing in the middle of the living room, circled by two cardboard boxes. He stuffs a couple of heavy textbooks into one of them and straightens up. "Hey, Blanca," he says, still gazing at the boxes. He looks over at me. "So Mom wants you to go through your room and find stuff for goodwill." He shrugs. "I guess she figured it'll help me move out easier next month."

I nod and turn on my heel. "Where can I get a box?" I ask, already heading upstairs.

"I already put one on your bed!" Matty calls from downstairs.

I go into my room and sure enough, a big cardboard box about half as tall as me is sitting on my unmade bed. I sigh and look around my room. My purple prom dress along with dozens of other outfits litter the floor. I haven't cleaned in here for almost a month. Luckily, Mom never comes in here, and neither does Matty, and I haven't had Alden or Julian here, either, so no one has to say anything about it or tell me to clean it.

I stand for a moment, gazing at my room.

I should clean it. And I have told myself that numerous times. It's just that ever since Alden and I broke up, I haven't felt the urge to do anything. Anytime I think about doing something, I just figure it's a waste of time. And I know I need to get out of that mindset, but I can't. I've tried.

I pick up my dirty clothes and toss them into a basket in the corner of the room. I pick a few books of a shelf and toss them into the box. I take some old makeup from a drawer, some old shoes, a couple shirts and pairs of pants, and some old earbuds that I haven't used in years.

I start looking under my bed for things I don't use anymore. I pull out a box and open it. I smile. It's full of my first calligraphy art supplies. Mom bought me this set when I was twelve for Christmas, and I didn't put it down for months. I sigh sadly as I dump it all into the goodwill box. I keep looking under my bed and reach underneath blindly, pulling out a yearbook from 2019. Eighth grade. I pull out another. 2018. I gasp as I pull my yearbook from fifth grade out. My first year in San Diego. I open it and flip slowly through the pages. I smile as I find my picture. My hair color and even length is the same, and I mostly look exactly like I do now. Except for my smile.

The photographer apparently wasn't satisfied with my smile. We took four pictures and he still wasn't set. Suddenly, I felt two fingers on either side of me poke me, and I burst out laughing. The photographer took this moment as an opportunity and snapped a bunch of pictures. The picture that made it to the yearbook was a big, open grin. After the photographer said I was done, I looked behind me to see who had tickled me. The photographer shouted 'next!' and Julian hopped up from behind the stool and slid onto it, grinning broadly, picture-day ready. After his picture was taken, he shot me a wicked grin, and I don't exactly know how or why, but we became best friends after that.

My smile fades away as I remember the day Julian and I met. I never thought our friendship would come to an end after lasting all the way to our junior year.

I come across Alden's photo, one I've looked at for so long so many times. I know it so well.

I know him so well.

I stare at it for a minute and feel my eyes well up.

I breathe heavily and toss the yearbook into the goodwill box. I throw every yearbook into it, each hurl getting more forceful. I burst into tears as I toss in my kindergarten yearbook, my third grade yearbook, every yearbook. I melt to the ground, a hot, sobbing mess.

I sniff as the door opens. Matty steps inside and shuts it softly behind him. He stares at me. I probably look pathetic, balled up on the floor, sobbing into my hands. But Matty doesn't say anything. He doesn't say I look pathetic or stupid. He doesn't tell me to grow up or to stop, he just kneels down and wraps his arms around me.

After I calm down, he pulls back. "I haven't seen you cry in six years," he says softly, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He wipes it quickly but doesn't break eye contact with me. I don't say anything.

Matty takes a breath. "So, I came up here to tell you that I'm pretty sure I know why I haven't seen Alden in over a month." I look at him with wide, red, teary eyes. He bites his bottom lip and frowns at me. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

I look down. "For what?"

He shakes his head. "I should have asked sooner. Or noticed. I just figured you were going to his house a lot or something."

I shrug. "I mean, it wasn't exactly waiting for you to ask," I say. "I just didn't want to…" I trail off.

"What?" Matty waits.

I sigh. "I didn't want to make you said. I'm sad, so now you're sad. I hate that."

He sighs. "Blanca, you're a people-pleaser," he says matter-of-factually. "But guess what?"

I raise my eyebrows.

"You're a person too."