Eli looked between the three of us incredulously. "Are you really going to make me stay?"
My parents shared a look before sighing. I wanted him to go more than anything, but not if it was going to make things worse. Though, only Eli knew whether it would make him better or worse. He was the only one that knew himself.
"He is staying in the room with you," Alan mentioned in Eli's favor. "And if he seems like he can handle it these next couple of days, then I don't see why he shouldn't be able to go."
Eli bit his fingernails as he awaited her answer. I was sitting on the edge of my seat too because this determined my fate as well. If Eli could not go, then I could not either. We were a package deal.
My mom rubbed her chin as her eyes focused on the table before her. "If you seem capable of going the night before the trip, then I won’t stop you."
"Really?" Eli jumped up with excitement as his eyes filled with joy. It only lasted for a second before he gripped the armrest of the couch and eased himself down again, the sudden movement a bit too much. He laughed awkwardly. "Yay."
Elias spent the next few days trying his hardest to be okay. By the night before the trip he was a lot better than before. He was still very tired from the lack of sleep and he got headaches frequently, but the nausea was gone and he had broken the fever a while ago. Was he completely over it? Definitely not.
Had he convinced them to let him go? That, he did.
Thirty-six
Eli
We had to wake up at two o'clock in the damn morning. If I had to wake up before the roosters for any other reason than to go on a trip, I’d be cranky as a motherfucker. Though, it wasn't like I was asleep in the first place.
Sleeping through the night hadn’t been easy at all. My body forced me awake constantly and there wasn’t shit I could do about it. I should have been grateful that I was even getting an ounce of sleep at all, but it was hard to look at the positives even with the king of positivity by my side. AKA, Javier Cortez.
Fuck my dumb ass for doing something as stupid as chugging almost an entire bottle of whiskey in less than an hour. Fuck me for getting addicted to it in the first place and now having to readjust my body to life without it. Fuck the alcohol for doing such a great job at numbing the pain to the point that I became completely reliant on it. Fuck my fucking life.
All that aside, I was in a decent mood. I was awake before the sun came up, but it was for good reason. It was finally time to go to the airport, and I genuinely did not think that I had ever been more excited for anything in my life. Well, maybe besides that one field trip to the zoo in fifth grade. I was pretty excitedabout that because eleven-year-old me had an odd obsession with giraffes, but I digress.
I changed into comfortable clothes to wear on the plane ride and then went to recheck the suitcase. I kept double checking because I was afraid that I would forget something important. What if I forgot all of my underwear? What if my toothbrush somehow fell out of the already zipped up suitcase and I didn’t notice? My mind convinced me that my things never made it there in the first place, only to check and find it just where it was supposed to be.
Javi made it back into the room and he watched me reopen the luggage for the third time. I felt his gaze but didn’t acknowledge it because I was more focused on making sure I had all that I needed. Javier knelt down on the floor next to me.
"I don't think your stuff is going to grow legs and walk out," he joked lightly.
I put my hand over my mouth as I yawned. "I just want to make sure I have everything. I don't want to make your mom have to stop at a store because I forgot something."
"You’ve checked, like, five times already. I think you’re good. Besides, I forget things every time we go on vacation, and she always stops to get it."
I shut the suitcase with a sigh, unable to shake the tight, constant feeling in my chest. Constantly looking inside my suitcase did nothing to help it like I hoped it would. Javi was being so empathetic about my newfound anxiety, always reassuring me and offering his support. I appreciated it, but I hated it at the same time.
I felt guilty about the entire situation. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried to fix things, I only ever made it worse. Then there was Javier to help me up again like I was a damsel in distress. I loved him for it, but how many times would he keep doing that before it became too much?
The last thing I wanted was to hurt Javi. He was my everything and I was trying so hard to not be a burden to him. I told him that one day, that it was okay for him to need space. I'd rather him take a break from me than to get fed up and leave all together. Javier insisted that I was not a burden and that I never could be. I should have expected that he would never tell me otherwise, but how long would he keep that up before it broke him?
Tina believed that the trip would be a good distraction. Tina was my therapist, and she had only recently been informed about my relationship with alcohol. I hadn't informed her before because I didn't think it was relevant. Let’s just say, the past week made it very clear that it was probably the most relevant aspect of my life.
I had a phone therapy session with her yesterday and she agreed that going on the school trip could be a good thing. She believed that as long as I paced myself right, I could enjoy the distraction. It would be a chance to feel a sense of normalcy again, if that was even possible. I was determined to try.
Me, Javi, and his mom were in the living room. Alan was loading the luggage into the car for us while Anita was giving Javi and I a lecture on the importance of safety and responsibility when away from home. Something about sticking together, being aware of surroundings, and not acting 'foolish.’ Enjoy the vacation, but don’t be obnoxious.
"...but most importantly you should have fun. I just want to make sure you boys do it properly,” Anita said, finishing her important safety speech.
Javier propped his feet up on the table as he spoke. "You don’t have to worry. We're pretty smart, in case you forgot."
Anita’s eyes glared on her son's feet on the coffee table and he put them down in an instant. "Being smart does not mean you are not prone to dumb decisions. You know that."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Need I remind you when you and your sister broke the statue in that hotel in Atlanta?" Javi’s mom said with a knowing look.
