Queen of Nothing

My Mamá and Tia took me shopping, and for a brief moment the crushing weight of everything lifted from my tiny shoulders. I thought about school the next day and what that would feel like to start all over. I thought about my English getting better and learning to live like an American kid, like in the movies. It was small things to cling to as the realization set in that I deviated from the path that was set out for me from the moment I was born.

It felt like hours trying on outfit after outfit, and my Mamá gushing every single time Caro came out of the dressing room. It was always followed by my Tia swiping her card effortlessly without looking twice at the cost. My Mamá already looked happier around her sister, I knew she had been missing her a lot ever since Tia Larissa left Mexico.

I understood the bond they had because I had the same with Carolina. Unlike my Mamá and her sister though, Caro and I had never been apart. Even in our large Villa in Guadalajara, we had our separate bedrooms, but we chose to sleep together every night. There was a comfort to being close together in vast spaces, and we learned early on to rely on each other. Where most little girls had a stuffed toy or a doll, they kept with them at all times; I had Carolina, the best little sister in the entire world.

When morning came, the doorbell rang, and excitement rushed through me as I made my way down the large spiral double staircase to head to school. I opened the door to find a short, light-skinned woman with reddish hair and a blonde boy about a head taller than me standing there.

“Cecilia?” The woman asked.

“Um, yes?” I answered with uncertainty as I recognized the new name I had to go by.

“I am Nina, your Aunt Larissa’s driver. I will be taking you and your sister to school today and every day from now on.”

“I thought Cézar would be taking me?” I turned back to the house asking my Mamá.

“He will be returning to work with your Papá in Mexico tomorrow,” she stated plainly as she walked between rooms.

“Oh,” I mumbled, feeling a bit angry at those two that they’d left me behind.

“This is my son Ronan, he will be riding with you to school,” she chirped almost like she could see my disappointment and was trying to make up for it.

“Hi,” the boy said, barely looking at me as he took in the grandiosity of my Tia’s house. He was tall and must have been a year or two older than me. His hair was a sandy blonde and fell all over his forest green eyes. His skin was milky white compared to my golden-brown hue, and his expression was full of kindness.

I kept my eyes on him throughout the entire walk to the car, and the drive to school too.

The days quickly turned to weeks, and from the outside, our new life in America must have seemed like a casual transition instead of the tragic downfall from the top of the hierarchy we actually suffered. Our story was the classic immigration story as far as anyone was concerned, and my Papá paid a pretty penny as soon as he had access to his money again to make sure that no one would ever be concerned. So, we lived as normally as we could pretend to, eating dinners together with my Tia, and going to school to pass the time until Papá would be able to come home to visit us again.

I spent most of my time at Ronan’s house, he taught me how to play Super Mario World and because his dad left his mom, he didn’t bother to ask too many questions about where my Papá was at. Carolina was often with us, she was my little shadow, and I preferred it that way so I could keep an eye on her. Ronan always let her tag along even though he was so much older than her, but I had a feeling he would do anything if it meant being around me too.

It was only natural that I would start getting used to this life, it was the fallout plan. Even though Mamá coached us through it so many times when I was Carolina’s age, I didn’t think we would ever have to deal with it. It wasn’t until I went seven months without seeing my Papá or Cézar that I recognized we were living the aftermath of it.