“Have you thought about which branch you’ll choose? Business or legal? It would help me a lot if you go for business. We’re thinking of opening another branch office in the south. Construction has just started, and it would be ideal if you could manage it when you graduate.”
I do not want to study business.
I want to study medicine.
I want to save lives.
I want to have the knowledge to give the best care to my grandpa and to the people I care about.
I think all those things, but I don’t say them, because I know that the moment the words come out of my lips, my brother will lose all respect for me. Abandoning the family legacy feels like a betrayal. What good would a doctor do in a successful transnational corporation?
I’ve lacked for nothing my entire life, but I haven’t had to work for any of it. Legacy has a very sweet side, but people are wrong if they think there’s no price to pay. People don’t see the pressure of what you’re supposed to be, the lonely meals, how hard it is to make a real friend or earn genuine affection. I thought my life would be stuck in that rut until it happened: Raquel saw me.
And I’m not talking about her looking at me. She looked right through me. She came to me with such pure feelings, with such a beautiful, easy-to-read face, that it left me speechless. Raquel has always been so true and transparent in her reactions. I didn’t think people like that existed.
She, who doesn’t even know how pretty she is, told me so confidently that I was going to fall in love with her. She, who worked hard to buy the things she wanted, has always been lonely because of her dad’s absence and her mom’s job. She, who has been through so much shit with me . . .
She’s still smiling with all her heart.
And it’s a smile that disarms me and makes me believe that everything is possible. And that I will be a great doctor someday. Maybe no one in my family supports me or believes in me, but she does.
And that’s more than enough.
FORTY-SIX
The Forgiveness
- RAQUEL -
New Year’s Eve
Time flies by.
After Halloween, Ares and I hung out several times a week before he went on a Thanksgiving trip with his family. The more time I spent with him, the more I got to know him. I was able to catch those little things, like what a perfectionist he is whenever he does something for school, or how responsible he is with his soccer team, never once missing practice and always giving his best. Ares has amazing discipline, and it’s kind of rubbing off on me. Not that I’m undisciplined, but I could definitely work on being on top of things like he is.
And what better example is there than what I’m doing right now: trying to write an essay I should have submitted before Christmas break. My literature teacher gave me extra time to work on it; however, it’s not coming along well. Yoshi used to be the one helping me with essays. God, I miss him. The worst part is that from all the topics offered, I chose to write on forgiveness. I’m an idiot. I start typing on the Notes app on my phone: I’m sorry . . .
Forgive me . . .
I never meant to hurt you.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
Asking for forgiveness can be so difficult. It requires maturity and courage. Admitting that you were wrong means facing yourself. It means facing the fact that you are not perfect and never will be, and that you are capable of making mistakes like everyone else.
To make mistakes is part of being human, to admit them is part of being brave.
The worst mistakes are those that you can’t erase. No matter if someone apologizes, no matter how much they do, it leaves a scar on your heart. Scars that still hurt when you remember them.
I stop because I’m getting emotional. New Year’s Eve has a way of making me feel sensitive, of making me reflect on everything I’ve done, and what I haven’t. I’ve been through so much this year, and the last six months have been a roller coaster of emotions for me.
“Put the phone away,” my mom demands with a sigh.
The clock shows 11:55 p.m. My eyes fill with tears, and it doesn’t surprise anyone. I’ve always cried when midnight approaches on New Year’s Eve, whether out of sadness, joy, nostalgia, or a combination of emotions that even I can’t figure out.
My mother puts her arm over my shoulder to hug me sideways. We’re sitting on the couch at her closest friend’s house. Helena has a large family, and we always spend New Year’s Eve with them. I guess my mother has never liked the idea of us spending it alone, and neither do I. My mother caresses my arm, resting her chin on my head.