Far from the Tree: List 4: Maya (5) – Maya (7)

“Who doesn’t have their phone?” Maya asked, exasperated. “I’m fairly sure that mine is pretty much grafted to my hand! How do you not have your phone?”

“Who doesn’t have their phone?” Maya asked, exasperated. “I’m fairly sure that mine is pretty much grafted to my hand! How do you not have your phone?”

But Claire was sulky about not being able to see the movie, and the weather was the sort of warm that became uncomfortable and sweaty after more than five minutes of sitting in the sun, and Maya’s dad had texted her and Lauren saying that his business trip to New Orleans had been extended by two days and could they grab dinner on Tuesday night instead of Sunday?

She wished she had something to throw, something to ricochet off buildings with the kind of force that she felt building up behind her heart.

Lauren would do that to her sometimes when they were fighting, her impassivity sending Maya through the roof.

“I’m breaking up with you,” she said to Claire, then watched as Claire seemed to wither right in front of her eyes.

Maya wondered if it would ever be like this with Grace and Joaquin, the ability to just sit quietly side by side, content in the knowledge that no matter what happened with your parents, or your girlfriend, that your siblings will still be there, like a bookend that keeps you upright when you feel like toppling over.

Maya wondered if it would ever be like this with Grace and Joaquin, the ability to just sit quietly side by side, content in the knowledge that no matter what happened with your parents, or your girlfriend, that your siblings will still be there, like a bookend that keeps you upright when you feel like toppling over.

Lauren was tucked under the shade of an umbrella, but Maya was sprawled out on the cement by the pool, sunglasses over her face and her feet in the water.

“And don’t say you suck at math and science. That’s such a cliche when girls say that. Even if it’s true, just lie.”

Joaquin waited for more explanation. When none was forthcoming, he sighed. “So what else happened yesterday?”

Maya started to giggle, then laugh, but Grace just looked somber, and Joaquin suspected that he had either said the most perfect thing or the most terrible thing.

“Well, my ex-girlfriend hates me, too,” Joaquin admitted, and both of his sisters’ heads swiveled toward him, their eyes wide. “If it’s any consolation.”

“Birdie.” Maya looked unimpressed. “Is she twee? Does she buy things on Etsy?"

Joaquin watched as the girls’ faces went from furious to perplexed.

“You two, you grew up with families. You’ve probably lived in this house since you were born, right? Right?” he said again when Maya didn’t respond, and she reluctantly nodded.

“No, I mean it,” she said, and Joaquin didn’t know if she was just super upset or super high, but the earnestness on her face made him smile a little.

Maya rolled her eyes. “Nice segue.”
“No, I’m serious,” Joaquin said. “You should call her.”

He was kidding, though, and Grace knocked her hip against his without thinking. “No,” she chided him.

“They said that to you?” He gaped. “Even though they know about Peach?”

“Must be a recessive gene,” Rafe replied, then pulled the ketchup bottle closer to his plate.

She tried MELISSA TAYLOR BIRTH MOTHER, but even that was too big, too vast, and Grace suddenly felt again like Alice in Alice in Wonderland, when Alice became too small and fell inside a bottle that was washed out to sea, carried away on a current that she couldn’t control, too small to see past the waves in front of her, too insignificant to make a difference.

Her parents looked shell-shocked, stricken. Grace suspected they would have looked less horrified if she had slapped them.

He had sat between Lauren and Maya on their living room couch while Maya explained everything in a monotone that didn’t even sound like her own voice.

“What?” Lauren sounded scandalized. “Why? I thought you two were totally in love with each other.”
“Were. Past tense. Love is fleeting, things change, et cetera.”

Maya had been trying to steer the conversation away from Claire, from how bad it felt to even say her name, the dullest grays and blacks that her mind could ever envision, plumes of choking smoke left over after a fireworks show.

She was taller than Maya, but for the first time, her height felt intimidating instead of safe.

It seemed strange that the grass still looked so green and lush, even though they had broken up.

Joaquin just looked sullen, his eyes heavy.

“No!" Adam yelped. His hat had tumbled off in the fracas, and now he just looked like a little kid.

Adam nodded nervously, his pupils dilated.

He and his friend scurried away as Joaquin seemed to slump, all his bravado slinking away and leaving him like a shell.

He and his friend scurried away as Joaquin seemed to slump, all his bravado slinking away and leaving him like a shell.

Joaquin ran until he hit the edge of the park that bordered the mall, one that was usually used only by toddlers and their attentive parents, and it wasn’t until he stopped that he realized his sisters were hot on his trail.

Joaquin wondered if they regretted that, if they sat up late at night and reminisced about that time they’d made a terrible decision by bringing Joaquin into their home.

He had thought that by saying it out loud, he would diminish how terrible it was, like ripping off a Band-Aid, but it was the completely opposite feeling, the words cutting his mouth as he said them.

Joaquin had to close his eyes at that, felt like he was going underwater, his sisters the only thing buoying him.

Grace had never seen him so contemplative before.

“That is no longer a true statement,” Maya said primly. “Can I go back to my homework now, please?”

Would you quit acting like this whole family is trying to persecute you?