“Oh, uh, yes,” I tell her. “Have you seen him?”
“I haven’t, but from what I know, he’s not renewing his lease this summer, which, I have to tell you, kind of sucks because he’s a pretty quiet fella. I’m really good friends with the land lord, so she tells me things about who comes and goes.”
“Oh.” I nod.
“Are you one of his track kids? I remember him telling me he’s a coach for that fancy college down the street.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m—well, I was one of his athletes.”
She nods and smiles. “Well, if I see him, I’ll let him know you stopped by. Oh—what is your name? I didn’t even think to ask.”
“Lakes. Thank you,” I murmur, and then I turn and walk away.
I cross the street to get to the park and there are children playing and mothers chatting. I take a seat on the bench, pull my phone out, and request another Uber.
As I wait, I send Torres another text. If he’s not staying in his apartment, then where is he? I know he has his mom, so maybe he’s with her. She must live close by.
Unfortunately, I’ll never be able to find out. My Uber driver arrives, a young, quiet woman this time, and throughout the twenty-minute drive, there is no response from Torres.
I scroll through all the message bubbles I’ve sent to him, feeling an extreme surge of embarrassment by them all.
Hey, are you okay?
Would love to see you!
I’m starting to get a little worried. Can we talk?
Did I do something wrong?
Just stopped by your place. Your neighbor says you’re not renewing your lease. Why didn’t you tell me? Where are you?
I knew you were upset about this.
That last message is one I just sent because why else wouldn’t he be answering me?
I got him kicked out of what he told me was the best job opportunity he’d ever had and even though he told me constantly that he didn’t regret being with me, clearly there is something he holds against what we had.
Why else would he have left without saying a word?
Why else would I feel so helpless, like I’ll never, ever see him again? Fuck, I don’t even know if I can live with the idea of that. To never see him again will kill me.
When Mama picks me up the next day, knocking on my door with a smile, I can’t even hold myself together. I tried keeping the tears at bay as I finished packing and brought my things next to the door, but seeing her opens up the floodgates.
I see her and I think of home. Of Daddy. I think of how my life would be if Daddy were still here. Would I have cared for Torres as much? Would I have thought about all the ways he was a similar coach to my dad? Would he have bothered to understand me if he knew my father was still alive?
We connected because our fathers are dead. We connected because we both know what it’s like to work hard and prove our worth, to be marginalized and underestimated based on our race, but how do I know that Torres wouldn’t have just ignored it all if things were different? Now that I think about it, it feels like Torres connected with me out of sheer pity, and I hate that feeling.
So, when I swing the door open and see my mother, I fall into her arms and it catches her off guard, but like she always does when I’m down, she holds me and rubs my back.
“What happened, Amby?” she asks as I sob into her chest.
And I want to tell her. I really do, but not here. I think I’ll feel much better discussing it with her when I’m home and safer with my surroundings.
I pull away and dry my eyes with the backs of my hands. “Can we talk about it when we’re home?” I ask.
“Sure, baby.” She doesn’t push on it any more than that. Instead, she moves past me to grab and pick up the first container she sees. I pick one up too and we carry my things down to her car.
When we’re done, I check my room for anything I may have forgotten, and I notice the dragon on the windowsill. My heart sinks just looking at it. I walk in to pick it up, stroking the orange fur and running my fingers over the orange spots. Its teeth are round and silly-looking, and its wings are silver, short, and stubby.
“Amby? You ready?” Mama calls from a distance.
I sigh, and as badly as I want to leave the dragon and all it’s memories here, I don’t. I tuck it under my arm and leave the room.
I lock up the apartment, turn my keys into the apartment manager and when I’m seated on the leather seat of the car with the dragon on my lap, Mama drives right away.