Page 102 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
“Don’t worry about me. Abuela said we could find another way to fund it together,” Moni says with a smile. “And I’m an entrepreneur. I’ll definitely figure it out. At least Abuela doesn’t act like I’m a failure for wanting to do anything besides play the violin for the rest of my life. But, um, you’re the one who went there, so... areyouokay?”
Dammit. I did go there first, I guess... I’m done lying about it, but I also don’t really know how to respond. I decide to answer with another question. “Don’t you feel guilty? Everyone expects us to be the next big thing, but we’re just always getting in trouble.”
She looks at me like I’m speaking gibberish. “Why wouldIfeel guilty about other people being wrong? Sounds like a them problem to me.”
I laugh. Her answer reminds me of the email Abuela sent me a while back about us being fig trees trying to make grapes. Maybe they’re both right. If I didn’t worry about what anyone expected out of me, would I still feel like a disappointment? I definitely still did a lot of shitty things, but maybe I wouldn’t have been so set on acting that way if I wasn’t trying to prove something.
Before we get too into it, Yami comes out from the bathroom. She stands there awkwardly for a second before saying, “Um, hey, Moni.”
“Hey, Yami.”
I don’t know why they’re being weird, but it doesn’t last long since Abuela comes calling us over to the table just then. Besides Yami and Moni’s awkwardness, it’s nice to be hanging out and eating dinner with everyone. I’ve aired out all my shit, and they’re all still here.
Yami stays quiet most of dinner, and I almost think I’m the only one who notices until Moni calls it out.
“So, Yami, do you have a problem with me or something?” The words feel confrontational, but her tone isn’t. Knowing Moni, she’s just genuinely curious.
If this happened another time, Yami might have gotten defensive and denied it, but maybe our group apology intervention changed things.
“I don’t have a problem withyou.I just...” She trails off. “I just kind of feel like I got replaced, you know? You and Cesar got so close lately, and I didn’t get to hang out with either of you. Like, me and Cesar are good now, but I feel like everyone here knows you except for me.”
Doña Violeta, my mom, and my abuela exchange a quick telepathic message I can’t decipher before they all stand up at the same time.
“I’ll help your mami with cleanup, all right?” Doña Violeta says, and Abuela’s adding on almost immediately after. “Cesar, mijo, what do you say we go for a ride?” she asks, not bothering with subtlety. “I think your prima and your sister could use some quality time.”
Moni looks at Yami expectantly, like she’s afraid of what herreaction might be. Yami just smiles. It’s a nervous smile, but she doesn’t seem upset.
“That sounds like a good idea, actually,” Yami says.
“Really?” Moni asks, lighting up a bit.
“Yeah. I miss you,” Yami admits.
“I miss you too,” Moni says before my mom practically shoves them into the living room so they can have some semblance of privacy.
Normally I’d be suspicious of an offer to go for a ride alone right after getting out of the hospital. It just screams “Let’s have an emotional heart-to-heart!” But this time it’s not about me. Moni and Yami should really talk. Besides, maybe a heart-to-heart with my grandma isn’t the worst thing in the world.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say as I hop up from the table and follow my abuela to the door, leaving Yami and Moni to talk it out.
When we get in the car, I’m expecting Abuela to start with some small talk like people usually do before they get into what they really want to say, but she doesn’t.
“I’m sure you have questions,” she says instead.
“Huh?” Not exactly the question she was probably expecting, but I have no idea what she’s talking about, so I got nothing.
“Violeta told me you saw us last night.” She says it like I caught them doing something way more scandalous than braiding hair. I didn’t even realize Doña Violeta knew I was watching, but I guess there’s no use lying if they both know I saw them.
“Doña Violeta was your first love, wasn’t she? The one you told me and Moni about?”
Abuela just nods.
“Does anyone else know?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not yet, at least. I wanted to tell you first, but you beat me to the punch.” She laughs.
“Why me?” That makes no sense. Why would she want to tell me, of all people?
“Because I want you to learn from my mistakes, mijo.”
