Mom came home while we were watching Star Wars and said that Kylie was sleeping over at Will’s house, which meant I wouldn’t see Kylie until the morning. I really wanted to talk to Kylie, so I called her on her cell. I called seven times, but she never picked up. It went straight to voice mail. I waited and waited for Kylie to call back. We finished Star Wars. I brushed my teeth and Kylie still hadn’t called back. So I called Will’s house. His mother answered. She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to me, which was fine because I didn’t want to talk to her. I wanted to talk to Kylie. But she said Kylie wasn’t there and neither was Will. When I told Mom, she called Will’s mom right back, and when she hung up she told me to go to bed, and then she started yelling at Dad. It’s been a half hour and she’s still yelling. I hope Kylie’s okay. I wonder where she is.
The pier is wooden and narrow, and as I walk the length of it I have the sensation that I’m walking on water. I can see the bay shimmering on all sides, and beneath me, too, between the slats of wood. There’s a full moon shining so bright it lights up the whole sky. I pass by a few couples sitting with their legs dangling over the water. I can’t help thinking this would be a lovely spot to hang with Max. Too bad I’ve just abandoned him.
When I finally reach the end of the pier, I’m alone. I turn around and can see all of Ensenada circling the bay, the hills rising above the water, the lights of the town blinking and glowing. I take a seat on the ground. It feels like I’m sitting at the edge of the world. I stare out at the wide expanse of ocean. I can make out a few boats in the distance. I think I see something jump out of the water. A dolphin? I doubt it.
What am I doing? I practically attacked Max on the dance floor and then went scurrying away like a scared little mouse. I am so not normal. I may even be psychotic. Something took hold of me and I couldn’t help myself. I had to touch his skin, feel his lips on mine. It felt so good, so right. But then I couldn’t help thinking that he’s not really mine. He’s Lily’s. This isn’t right.
But if he really belonged to Lily, would any of this have happened? Would it have felt so right? I remind myself, they aren’t married. We’re just teenagers. This is hardly adultery. There’s obviously something happening between us. Why can’t I explore it? See what happens, where it goes. Sure, he could break my heart tomorrow. But isn’t it worth taking the chance? Why must I always hold back, ruminating, instead of just jumping in with abandon?
“¡Felicitaciones!” a couple calls out as they approach.
What is up with all the congratulations? Are people mistaking me for someone else? Someone lucky in love. Someone who deserves congratulations. That’s not me, people. I am a fool. I just ran away from a very hot guy who happened to be totally into me, at least for the moment.
The couple approaches. They stand a few feet away, staring down at me. Am I meant to answer them?
“Uh, gracias,” I say.
“American?” the girl asks me.
“Yes.”
As soon as people discover you’re American, they’re dying to speak English with you. It’s such a funny thing. In the States, we’d never speak anything but English with a foreigner. The world of the superpower. It means never having to say you’re sorry in anything but English.
“You came down to Ensenada to get married?” the boy asks.
What are they talking about?
“Married? No,” I say.
“But you’re wearing the dress,” the girl says.
I look down at my dress. “I just bought it here. In Ensenada.”
That’s when I notice we’re both wearing the same dress; hers is yellow. Wait. Did I actually buy a wedding dress? Oh, shit. What a royal, freaking mistake. No wonder everyone is congratulating me. I’m parading through the streets in a wedding dress. What an idiot. And Max bought it for me. I have to laugh at the irony.
“It looks nice on you,” she says.
“You too,” I say.
They walk away, leaving me in the lonely company of my endless stream of anxieties. The alcohol must be wearing off, because the volume in my head has been turned way up. Can’t I just shut down my brain and let my heart lead the way? So he’s got a girlfriend. Don’t people sometimes meet the love of their life when they’re already with someone? What about The Philadelphia Story? Sleepless in Seattle? But those are movies, and this is real life, my real life, where movie endings NEVER happen.
I can’t think about this anymore. I lie down on the wood planks and stare up at the sky. It’s filled to capacity with stars. I never see this many stars in San Diego. The city lights are too bright; the sky looks murky and muted. But out here it’s clear and pristine. I think I can make out the Little Dipper. I start to count stars. It’s a good distraction from the dizziness of going round and round.
“Found you,” Max says, looking down at me. “Turns out, I’m not so easy to get rid of.”
I’m so happy he’s here I feel like crying. And yet I have no idea where to begin, based on where we left off.
“I guess not.”
“Gotta hand it to you, though. That was a tricky move back there. Took me a few minutes to figure out that you snuck around the crowd and went the other way. Can I sit down?”
“Free country.” That came out a little snarkier than I planned.
“Technically, Mexico is a little less of a democracy than the U.S.”
“You can still sit down. You’re not breaking any laws.”
“Thanks. ’Cause, you know, wouldn’t want to do anything illegal.”
“I can appreciate that.”
Max lies down next to me.
“Kylie, I know this is complicated.…”
“Yeah, you have a girlfriend.…”
“Maybe. But I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.”
“Really?”
“Really. Whatever’s happening between us has nothing to do with Lily. And everything to do with us. That kiss meant something. The whole day has meant something.”
“But what about Lily?” I don’t want to keep pushing the issue, but I can’t help myself.
“Look, I have no idea what’s going to happen between us. But I know I can’t have these kinds of feelings for you and stay with Lily. Even if we never see each other again—which would suck, by the way—I can’t stay with Lily. Today made me realize that I don’t really love her. I don’t know if I ever did.”
Max and I stare at each other.
“Sorry I bailed on you,” I say. “It’s just, this is not normally what I do.” I’m peeling off my defenses, leaving myself raw, exposed, scared. I’m doing this, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.