Page 77 of Love and Other Goals

Three weeks into the semester, Mateo and I are still trying to find a new rhythm of time together. Although the soccer season is over and he’s officially done, he’s continuing to work out with the team. No doubt it’s hard to quit those habits cold turkey, not to mention the strong relationships he has with his teammates. We see each other every Tuesday and Thursday, and we usually try to go on a date sometime over the weekend. But the more time we spend together, the more time I want to spend with him, making my classes and study load rather inconvenient.

I head to the library almost every day after classes, either studying for my courses or working my way through some law school textbooks I purchased early. On a Thursday afternoon, Mateo finds me in the Harry Potter room. I’m alerted to his presence behind me by the spicy tree farm smell flooding my senses right before he places a kiss on my temple.

“What are you reading?” he asks as he sits down next to me.

I look at him sheepishly as I hold up my book. “Literally the dictionary.”

Mateo laughs loudly, drawing irritated glares from students studying at nearby tables. He clears his throat and whispers, “Sorry. Was not expecting that response.”

I show him the Legal Dictionary that I’m methodically reading and annotating. I’m tempted to feel embarrassed, but Mateo catches me off guard by leaning in to softly kiss my lips. It’s crazy how even his gentlest of kisses sends sparks shooting through my body, like the slow, scintillating burn of a sparkler at Fourth of July.

He pulls back with a smile and whispers again. “Your dedication will never cease to amaze me, Lana.” I lean forward to give him a quick peck of appreciation on the lips, not even caring if the students at neighboring tables are watching us over their laptops.

“It’s nice outside this afternoon,” Mateo says. “Would you be up for going for a walk? Or do you need to keep studying?”

“I’m definitely up for a walk. That’s enough dictionary for one day,” I say with a self-effacing grimace.

I arrange my laptop and books in my backpack, and Mateo throws one strap over his shoulder as he takes my hand. We walk lazily through campus until my phone rings.

“Oh, it’s my mom. Let me just see if she needs something quick or if I should call her back later,” I say. I tap the button to answer it. “Hey Mom!”

“Hi Lana, honey,” my mom responds, her voice a bit strained. “What are you up to right now?”

“Just finished studying and now walking through campus with Mateo,” I tell her, hoping the strain in her voice isn’t related to Dean. He’s been doing so well ever since Mateo connected him with Parker.

“Oh, you’re with Mateo? Could you give him the phone so I can talk to him for just a minute?” Mom asks, further raising my suspicions.

“Uh, sure,” I say, then hold the phone out toward Mateo. “She wants to talk to you?”

Mateo takes the phone with a question in his eyes. He greets my mom, then listens intently. His eyes flick over to me briefly with concern before looking down at the sidewalk. “Mmmhmm…yeah, I understand…yes, of course I will.” I can’t hear my mom’s side of the conversation, but Mateo’s short responses aren’t sitting well with me.

He hands the phone back to me and takes my hand, so much compassion in his eyes that my blood runs cold. “Mom, what is going on?” I ask into the phone, a slight tremor in my voice.

“Honey, everything is okay with our family. But…there is something terrible that’s happened that I need to tell you about,” she pauses, and I hear her take a deep breath. “It’s Samira’s family. We just got word that Hassan, her son who got left behind in Afghanistan…well…he’s been killed, Lana.”

My heart plummets. I gasp into the phone, “No, that’s not true.” I look into Mateo’s eyes, already brimming with tears as he looks back at me, and I know it is true.

“But Mom, you were working so hard to get him here. You were filling out all the papers, you were contacting all the people, doing all the right things so he could get here for Samira. This isn’t right.” My voice cracks as the tears start overflowing from my eyes.

“I know, honey,” my mom says, her own voice thick with emotion. “We were doing everything we could. It’s just such an unstable place, and Hassan, he…he just got caught in the middle of some fighting and…he’s gone.”

I choke back a sob, and Mateo’s free hand starts rubbing circles on my back. “How’s Samira? And Zahra? Does she understand what happened?”

“Zahra’s been separated from Hassan for so long now, living this different life, that I think she’s having a hard time comprehending that he died, that he won’t ever be coming back,” Mom tells me, causing fresh tears to spill down my cheeks. “And Samira, well, she’s gutted, of course. She feels like it’s her fault for leaving without him. And she’s grieving the fact that she can’t even be physically present to put him to rest. She has family members still there who are seeing to his burial, but of course that’s not the same.”

Another sob breaks out of my throat as my mind submerges in Samira’s pain. It’s a horrifying reality to lose a child. But to lose a child to such violence, and to not even be able to physically say goodbye? The thought makes me nauseous.

“Honey, I know classes just started, but if you’re able to come home this weekend, I’m sure it would mean a lot to Samira and Zahra to see you,” my mom says gently.

“Of course. Of course I’ll come, Mom. I’ll figure things out and text you when I’m leaving,” I respond.

“Okay, be safe, my beauty. I love you so much,” my mom’s voice breaks on the last word, starting us both crying all over again.

“I love you too, Mom. I’ll see you soon,” I finally say and end the call.

Immediately I’m wrapped up in Mateo’s arms, face buried in his chest as my shoulders shake with sobs. His left hand comes up to hold the back of my head against him, his fingers gently massaging my scalp.

I don’t know how long we stand there. I keep pulling back, trying to speak, but my voice always breaks down and I return my face back to Mateo’s chest.

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