She nods. “I understand your anger and frustration. Ana has a lot of personal issues she needs to take care of, but you can’t let this sever your relationship the way it has.”
I look at her in disbelief. “Mom, she lied to me for two years?—”
“I know she did. She lied to all of us. I feel terrible for what I said to Cameron back then and plan to apologize. I also understand if you need time and space, but I want my daughters to be okay.” Her eyes turn misty. “She won’t be here for the holidays.” I let out a small breath of relief at that last statement. It’s barely audible, and thankfully, Mom doesn’t hear it. “I just need you both to fix this. Ana really does love you, Kamila.”
Not so sure she’s ever loved anyone.
Mom holds onto my hand and wipes away tears with the other. It hits me there and then that she hasn’t come to the same terms that I have. My twin sister is a narcissist. At least I’m ninety-nine percent sure she is from all the research I did the past week. Comparing all of her past and present behavior proved it. Of course, none of us will know for sure until Ana sees a professional.
Although it was “easy” for me to accept this about my sister after everything I experienced that day, it’s not the same for my mother. Nora Morales is far from stupid, nevertheless, we’re stillher children, and it can’t be as simple for her to see one of her daughters for what she truly is.
Even though Ana manipulated me for years, sometimes for the tiniest things in order to make herself look better, Mom doesn’t need to know all of that. I don’t want to make her feel worse than she already does, especially around the holidays. So, I do what I need to since I’m not seeing Ana any time soon. I lie.
“I understand what you’re feeling, Mom. Still, I need time and space to think about things before speaking to her. We will be okay again.”
That’s all I can say for now, and luckily, it seems to satisfy her.
“Thank you.” She smiles proudly at me, and I return the sentiment, feeling terrible that she’s in the middle of all this. “Do you need help unpacking?”
Gently, I stand to stop her from getting to my suitcase. “It’s fine, Mom. I’ll unpack tomorrow and rest tonight. Finals wore me out.”
In reality, I want to be alone. All I wanted was to have a normal conversation with my mom about a boy I like and how to go about it, yet somehow, even without her being here, Ana got in the way of that.
She looks at me, concern filling her eyes. She hesitates before hugging me goodnight and shuts the door behind her.
After changing, I lay on my bed and unfold the card that was slipped under my dorm room door earlier this morning.
Kamila,
I’m not really sure what to write today. So many of the things I feel were within those lyrics of the songs played yesterday.
I’m not so secretly hoping your kiss means you’reclose to forgiving me. It felt amazing to hold you and be near you again, I thought I was dreaming at first…
Fuck it. I miss you like crazy. I miss you so much it hurts. I promised myself I wouldn’t say things like this until you forgave me, but here I am saying them because I’ve never needed or wanted anything or anyone like I do you.
There is so much more I want to say but it has to be in person. I know you said we would see each other after winter break, but I can’t wait that long. I’ll drive anywhere you need me to. Just please, baby, give us a real chance.
Love always and forever,
Cameron
There wasn’t a P.S. today; the card didn’t need it. The message was clear. All I have to do is decide when I want to see him.
A lot easier said than done.
The hope I had of my mom giving me some sort of wise insight dies down completely. That isn’t going to happen anytime soon.
As for my friends, Jake is on another continent where it’s currently the middle of the night, Em’s phone is off, and Levi goes to bed early the day before Christmas Eve due to his job back home.
Levi’s words come back to me.You don’t need my advice anymore, or Jake’s or Em’s.
He was right then and still is. It’s time to trust myself and my gut. I close my eyes, picturing the starry night, sending a prayer that I’ll make the right choice.
Sunday/Christmas Eve
My alarm goes off at nine-thirty in the morning. It’s Christmas Eve, meaning my family is coming in and that my mom is probably already cooking. Most people from South America celebrate Christmas like they do here, but on Christmas Eve. We usually have dinner, dance, play games, and then open presents around midnight. On Christmas Day, we clean up, eat leftovers, and watch movies. It’s my favorite holiday of the year, and even though nobody from overseas is coming, there will still be about a dozen guests. It’s the first year my sister won’t be celebrating it with us. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do if she was planning on coming.
My Christmas pajamas are folded in my bottom drawer like they are every year. Taking a moment to look them over, I decide to go with the black silk pants and matching buttoned-up shirt that are covered with cartoon gingerbread men. Quickly, I brush my hair into a high pony, looking like less of a hot mess, and wiggle my feet into the reindeer slippers.
