Chapter 7: Alone
1552 Words
Madrid, Spain
The first thing Reina noticed about Madrid was the silence.
Not actual silence.
There were cars.
People.
Voices.
Life.
Yet somehow everything felt quieter than New York.
Maybe because she didn't belong here.
She sat beside the window as the taxi wound through unfamiliar streets.
The buildings looked different.
The language sounded different.
Even the sunlight felt different.
Everything reminded her that she was far from home.
She wasn't even sure where home was anymore.
The thought made her chest ache.
She turned her attention back to the passing scenery.
Anything was better than thinking.
The taxi eventually slowed before a large stone building surrounded by iron gates.
Reina stared.
The school looked more like a castle than a school.
Tall windows overlooked carefully maintained gardens.
Students crossed the courtyard carrying books and chatting with one another.
Everyone looked comfortable.
Confident.
As though they belonged.
Unlike her.
The driver unloaded her luggage.
A woman from the admissions office greeted her warmly.
Reina barely heard a word she said.
She nodded when appropriate.
Smiled when expected.
And followed directions.
The entire day passed that way.
Like a dream she couldn't wake up from.
Her dorm room was small but clean.
Two beds.
Two desks.
Two wardrobes.
A bookshelf.
The room wasn't bad.
It just wasn't hers.
Reina sat on the edge of the bed after the admissions officer left.
For the first time all day, she was alone.
Truly alone.
No teachers.
No staff.
No strangers.
Just her.
The silence felt overwhelming.
Slowly, she reached into her backpack and pulled out the framed photograph of her parents.
The same photograph she had carried across an ocean.
The same photograph she had stared at every night since her father's death.
She placed it carefully on the desk.
Immediately the room felt less empty.
Not by much.
But enough.
It had been nearly two months since Papa died.
Nearly six weeks since her thirteenth birthday had come and gone without anyone mentioning it.
Some days it felt impossible that so much of her life had changed in so little time.
A knock sounded at the door.
Reina quickly wiped at her eyes.
"Come in."
The door opened.
A girl stepped inside.
She looked about Reina's age.
Maybe a little older.
Thick chestnut curls framed her face, refusing to be controlled no matter how hard she seemed to try. She had bright blue eyes, fair skin, and the kind of open, expressive face that revealed every thought the moment she had it.
Everything about her felt alive.
Confident.
Unapologetically herself.
The girl froze.
Reina froze.
For several seconds they simply stared at one another.
Then the girl grinned.
"Good."
Reina frowned.
"What?"
"Crying people make me nervous."
Reina stared.
"I'm sorry?"
"You look normal."
Her voice carried a noticeable accent.
Not Spanish.
Not American.
Different.
The accent became even more obvious as she spoke.
The words sounded softer somehow.
Each sentence carried a distinct British lilt.
Confusion replaced Reina's sadness.
The girl dropped her bag onto the second bed.
"My last roommate collected dead insects."
Reina stared.
The girl stared back.
Then both burst out laughing.
The laughter caught Reina off guard.
It was the first genuine laugh she'd had in weeks.
The girl smiled triumphantly.
"There it is."
"There what is?"
"The laugh."
Reina frowned.
The girl pointed at her.
"You looked sad."
The observation was so direct it startled her.
"I just moved here."
The girl nodded.
"Fair."
Then she stuck out her hand.
"I'm Brittany."
Reina looked at it.
Then slowly shook it.
"Reina."
"Nice to meet you, Reina."
Reina tilted her head.
"You're not from Spain."
Brittany looked delighted.
"You figured it out."
"It was the accent."
"Fair."
"Where are you from?"
"England."
For some reason, that didn't surprise her.
It fit.
"What about you?"
"Los Angeles."
"Never been."
Brittany tilted her head thoughtfully.
"Is it wonderful?"
Reina's smile faltered.
She thought of warm summer evenings.
Her father's studio.
The smell of fresh paint.
Saturday morning pancakes.
The little house that no longer belonged to anyone.
"It used to be."
Brittany studied her for a moment.
Then, sensing the shift, she smiled brightly.
"You're American?"
Reina immediately regretted answering.
"Unfortunately."
"Brilliant."
"Why is that brilliant?"
"Because now when I make fun of Americans, you'll understand the jokes."
Reina laughed despite herself.
Something about Brittany felt like sunshine.
Easy.
Comfortable.
Maybe it was her infectious smile.
Or the way her bright blue eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she was about to say something ridiculous.
Whatever it was, Brittany had a way of making people feel welcome.
The kind of person who walked into a room and immediately made it brighter.
Unfortunately, Reina wasn't in the mood for sunshine.
Brittany didn't seem to care.
"So."
Reina immediately became suspicious.
"So?"
"Do you want the good news or the bad news?"
"There is bad news?"
"Oh, definitely."
Reina sighed.
"What's the bad news?"
Brittany made a face.
"The cafeteria food is terrible."
Reina nodded solemnly.
"Tragic."
"I know."
Brittany looked genuinely devastated.
"The good news?"
"What?"
Brittany pointed toward the window.
"The bakery across the street sells the best tea in Madrid."
Reina glanced toward the building visible beyond the school gates.
"How good are we talking?"
Brittany placed a hand over her heart.
"Life-changing."
The seriousness in her voice caught Reina off guard.
A laugh escaped before she could stop it.
For a moment, she froze.
The sound felt unfamiliar.
Wrong, almost.
Her birthday had come and gone without laughter.
Maybe that was why this one surprised her.
How could she laugh when her father was gone?
The guilt hit immediately.
But just as quickly, something else followed.
Relief.
For the first time in days, she hadn't been thinking about hospitals.
Or funerals.
Or cancer.
She had simply laughed.
The realization made her chest ache.
Not with grief this time.
With gratitude.
The break had only lasted a few seconds.
But she needed it.
Her phone buzzed.
Reina frowned.
Almost nobody had her number.
She reached into her pocket and looked down.
Sofia.
The sight of the name made something tighten in her chest.
For a moment she considered ignoring it.
Instead, she opened the message.
Sofia:
How's Spain?
Reina stared at the screen.
She didn't know how to answer.
Everything hurts.
I miss Dad.
I hate it here.
The words crowded her mind.
None of them made it to the screen.
Instead she typed:
Reina:
Fine.
The response arrived almost immediately.
Sofia:
Liar.
Reina could practically see Sofia's face.
The slight narrowing of her green eyes.
The stubborn expression that usually meant she was about to ignore whatever excuse Reina came up with.
Sofia had always been impossible to fool.
With her strawberry-blonde hair, green eyes, and athletic build, Sofia stood out without ever trying to.
Where Brittany felt like sunshine, Sofia was something steadier.
The kind of person who noticed everything and forgot nothing.
Brittany walked into a room and made everyone laugh.
Sofia sat quietly in the corner until someone needed her.
Then somehow she always knew exactly what to say.
Different as they were, both girls had a habit of seeing through her.
A habit Reina was beginning to suspect she would never escape.
A laugh escaped before she could stop it.
Of course Sofia knew.
Some things never changed.
Across the room, Brittany smiled.
Mission accomplished.
The rest of the evening passed more easily than Reina expected.
Mostly because Brittany talked enough for both of them.
She talked about teachers.
Classes.
Students.
The bakery.
The bakery came up several times.
She also complained about Spanish tea.
Repeatedly.
"It's terrible."
Reina frowned.
"It can't be that bad."
Brittany looked personally offended.
"You sound exactly like someone who wasn't raised in England."
Reina laughed.
"There are tea standards?"
"There are standards for everything."
By bedtime, Reina had learned more about her roommate than she had intended.
Not that Brittany seemed bothered by doing most of the talking.
Eventually, the room grew quiet.
Brittany fell asleep surprisingly fast.
Reina remained awake.
Moonlight spilled through the window.
The room felt different now.
Not like home.
Not even close.
But not quite as lonely as it had earlier.
Her eyes drifted to the photograph on the desk.
The familiar ache returned.
She missed him.
God, she missed him.
The tears threatened again.
But this time they didn't fall.
Instead, she sat up and stared at the picture.
"I made it."
The whisper barely left her lips.
The room remained silent.
No answer came.
Of course it didn't.
Yet somehow saying the words aloud made her feel better.
Just a little.
She imagined what her father would say if he were here.
Probably something encouraging.
Something embarrassingly optimistic.
Something that would make her roll her eyes and smile anyway.
The thought hurt.
But it also warmed her.
For the first time since boarding the plane, the future didn't seem quite so terrifying.
Not because she was brave.
Not because she was ready.
But because for the first time in weeks, she wasn't completely alone.
And sometimes, that was enough.
She pulled the blanket closer and closed her eyes.
Tomorrow would still be difficult.
The day after that would probably be difficult too.
But for tonight, that was okay.
For tonight, she wasn't alone.
- Writer
