Don't Give up on Me

"You're awfully quiet," my grandfather says, appearing behind me. "Something troubling you, mija?"

"No, no, I'm fine, abuelito," I assure him, tearing my gaze from the deep blue waves and facing him. "How are you holding up? Its pretty hot out today."

"Its hot every day, Andi, this is nothing," he smiles. "You know, out of all the people that have been running around worried over me, you and Ryan are the only two that are letting me breathe."

I smile sadly. "Well, we were torn up when we found out the news...but, we also know that you're a fighter, and the Rivera's don't give up easily."

"That much is true," he says, crossing his arms and sitting down on one of the chairs of the pontoon. "Ryan, slow down a little, we're far out enough now."

My older brother eases off the gas and lets the boat coast a bit before dropping the anchor down. It was the three of us and David on the boat; my mother insisted that Desiree was too small to go out, and my grandmother was going to stay with them to help keep an eye on her. While Ryan and David seemed to get along effortlessly, it seemed the exact opposite for us, and I felt more than awkward around him, to say the least. It was like he could have full conversations with everyone else, but when it came to me, it went a little something like this;

Him: "Hey, Andi."

Me: "Hi."

Him: "Hows, er, school?"

Me: "Fine."

Him: "Okay."

And then the conversation ends. It was weird. I hated feeling awkward around people, and he oozed it. So when we made eye contact as the boat got situated, I was the one to break it, because I was so uncomfortable.

"Ryan, how old are you again, mijo?" Grandpa asks, adjusting the ballcap on his head.

"I'm 21 next month, Gramps," Ryan answers proudly. "Why do you ask?"

Grandpa reaches into the cooler we brought along and tosses him a beer. "Go ahead."

Ryan looks at him like a kid in a candy store would when their parents allow them to get the gallon bag of candy. "I know you've already had plenty before, but its time you had one with your old Gramps, even if I'm not drinking one with you." He then sips on his water slowly, my brother's face as bright as the sun shining on us.

Ryan opens the beer and strikes up a conversation with David and our Grandpa, leaving me to my own devices on the small boat. I decide to lay on one of the bench seats towards the front of the boat and catch some sun; I was extremely pale, and even though I wouldn't tan nearly as well as my older brother does, I still felt the need to look a healthy color. I put my iPhone's music library on shuffle and relaxed under the sun.

About twenty minutes later, I flipped over onto my stomach and saw the three of them laughing about something. "If you're making fun of me, Ryan, I will kick your ass when we get back to the house."

I take out one of my headphones to catch the last of his reply. "Is that a threat?"

"I don't make threats. I make promises."

"Is that what you tell your boyfriend when he acts up?"

I give him an annoyed look. "I don't know what you're talking about. He's his own person, he doesn't need me to tell him what to do."

I wasn't sure what he was up to, but I wasn't liking it, needless to say. "Whatever you say, Andi."

Angered, I put my head back down onto my arms and try to calm my temper. I knew he was most likely joking, but it still bothered me. It was as if my father were standing here with him, making fun of Zacky, knowing that it pissed me off. Where was that when my brother brought a girl home? Oh, right, he's the favorite, so it didn't matter.

As we finally went back to the beach, my grandfather moved to sit near me, noticing my bitter mood. "Andi, he's only kidding. Don't take it to heart."

"I know, its just hard to not take him serious sometimes. My Dad does the same thing, and it makes me so mad," I sigh, sitting up and crossing my arms.

"Your father has never had a nice way of showing his disapproval of anything, and the cycle continues with your brother," Grandpa tells me in his smooth demeanour. "But you of all people know why they're behaving like this. They're just looking out for you, especially after what lead to your hospital treatment."

"I know. I just wish they'd grow up a bit and realize not every single guy I'm with is going to cause me to do something drastic again," I sigh, leaning into his shoulder.

He smiles down at me. "You were going through a hell of a lot then, honey. You're happier now, I can tell. When your mother asked you about him on the way here, your eyes lit up and you smiled so largely, like you had as a child. As long as he keeps that smile on your face, he's got my approval."

"Really?" I ask, making him chuckle.

"Of course, Andria."

He pulls me in for a hug, which I graciously return. For a second, it seemed like the reason I was down here didn't exist, and that he was as healthy as ever. But unfortunately, that wasn't the case. As soon as we got to shore, we'd go find a place to eat at and then head home because this trip wore him out due to the toll the chemotherapy had on his body. I overheard my mother and grandma talking earlier this morning, about how the treatment wasn't shrinking the cancer cells and how his outlook was even more grim than before. He already had horrible memory, at first forgetting little things like the street he lived on and everyday words. They said it was only going to get worse, and that's when I forced myself to stop eavesdropping and pretend that packing my beach bag was more interesting than that.

With the boat loaded onto the trailer, we chose a quaint Italian restaurant closeby and enjoy the meal before driving the few hours it took to get back to my grandparents' house.

The rest of the stay went as expected. My grandfather underwent another sit in the hospital room for the three hours it took for his chemo treatment, and he laid in bed sick for the rest of the week. It was so hard to hear him so sick, so fragile. I didn't want to watch him suffer any longer than I had to. I commended my grandma again, though; she helped her husband every second without complaint, as he did for her for so many years.

My sister didn't want my brother and I to leave, kicking and screaming when I finally passed her back over to my mom. With a small smile, she saw my brother and I off to the gate before walking back to the car with David.

The plane ride was nothing special. My phone died by the time we crossed over the New Mexican/Texas border, leaving me utterly bored for the rest of the ride. I anxiously waited to touch down at LAX just so I could curl up in my blankets and decompress from the week I just had.

The first question my father asked when we met at baggage claim was, "Did you actually get a tan while you were there?" No, "Hi honey, how was your trip?"; no, "I missed you." He literally asked that instead. I only gave him a short reply before picking up my suitcase and wheeling it out to where Laura's BMW waited. He hadn't caught onto my mood, however, and asked me every question save anything of importance. And even though the woman has spent hardly any time personally with me, she distracted him long enough to let me breathe a sigh of relief as we started to drive into familiar territory.

"You excited to be back, Andi?" my Dad asks as he pulls into town.

"I guess," I shrugged, knowing I'd have to go back to the shady routine he and I had once I get settled again. It was getting old real fast, and I wanted it to end already.

A few minutes later, we drive into our neighborhood, and my heartbeat picks up considerably. Not only did it do so at the thought of my house in the short distance, but Zacky creeped into my thoughts again, and I couldn't contain how happy I was to see him again. He sat on top of the boot of his car with none other than Jimmy and Violet beside him, Vi's trademark blue hair back and brighter than I remembered it being before we all got in trouble.

I somehow climbed out of the car like a normal human, but abandoned it as soon as I was out. I heard my Dad call my name behind me, but I didn't bother to go back. I buried my face into Zacky's chest as he held me tightly, then gave me a hungry and breathtaking kiss. Overwhelmed with emotion, I pulled away and tried to control them discreetly, though it was no use; he knew me too well. He only kept his grip on me and gave me a kiss on the head while I reaquainted myself with him again; the way he smelled, the mix of cigarettes, soap, and cologne still just as intoxicating as ever; the way his arms felt around me; the constant buzzing of nerves I felt around him. The longing I'd felt the entire week vanished in that instant.

"We're here too, you know," Violet mutters after a couple of minutes. I laugh and pull away from Zacky, nearly getting tackled by Jimmy in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Jimmy, you can put me down now," I tell him after a minute.

"Okay, okay," he grins, putting me down and ruffling my hair. "I'm glad you're back, Ariel."

"I think you meant loser, Jim," Violet says, sharing a brief hug with me before letting me go. "Did you get a tan??"

I roll my eyes. "Thanks, Jimmy. And yes, I did, Violet. Why is that everyone's first question?"

"Because you're glowing, Andi. Like, your skin is darker than mine, and that's saying a lot considering that I'm Italian," she replies, positioning her arm next to mine.

I shake my head. "This is what I missed this week? Lame."

"Andi, we've gotta unpack and stuff," I hear Ryan call from the edge of our driveway. I sigh before I peck Zacky's cheek and wave to my friends, telling them that I'd be back out in a bit.

I sigh again, though this time, I was content. I was finally home, plain and simple.