... 18 Years Young (part VI)

Lydia didn't know whether to be offended or attracted; so she opted for silence. She just looked at him as he wiped her eyes and continued.
"I've never met a girl like you. I wish I had more time with you, but if you let me, I will make sure that the rest of your life will be filled with nothing but smiles and love and, and shit Lyd...I just want to be there."
"But why? Why the fuck would you want to deal with this? The medication, the hospitals, the moods and anger, depression and sadness? Since I got the news, I hate being me. There are so many people I want to meet and places I want to see. Being me is a major waste of time. So I can only imagine what being around me must feel like. Think about it, do you want to sit in the hospital a month and a half from now when I'm in surgery. Or a few months after that when I'm suffering in a bed, struggling to maintain life. Fuck your delusions of grandeur and kill your optimism my brother, I AM DYING."
"I heard you the first time, and the second. And just about every time after that. But the way I see it, you should be living every tomorrow like it's going to last two years. That way, when you do go, you'll have lived long enough. I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life..."
"Well it sure sounds like it." Lydia was getting quite annoyed, but she couldn't take her eyes off of him.
"But, I do want you to live while your still here; for your sake, for your mother's sake, your brothers sake, shit for my sake. This downer shit aint you, 'cause contrary to your belief, I see you. I've always seen you. Through grade school till now I see you. I've heard you in class, I've noticed. Not speaking up is a horrible mistake that I'm going to have to live with but I be got damn if I let you live your last six months in the dark."
"Your right, it isn't your place to tell me how to live."
"And I'm not trying to."
"Are you sure?" She wanted to go home, really she did. She was so tired of people telling her how to live. Why couldn't she spend her last few days like she wanted to; alone and in the dark. But he had a point. Your life isn't your own. Your always in the process of living for other people; inspiring and helping. How horrible would her mother feel if she let her daughter die before she was actually dead. Maybe she would do the whole "Carpe Diem" thing. But how would she deal with Daryl? He reached for the soft palms that she pulled away from him around mid conversation. She let him hold them, for now.
"Positive I don't. And I really don't want to offend you because I don't want this to our last time out. I want to take you out as long as your able and willing. Just let me be there for you, at least let me try." Who was she to tell someone what they can and can not do? If he wanted to try and tread the bullshit the was partially drowning in, he can go ahead. She wouldn't mind having him around. Hopefully it wouldn't do more hurt than help, not to her, but to him. She didn't have anything substantial to say. To avoid the cliche, she just held his hand and started to walk. Lydia had a strong feeling that her make up had ran to high-heavens. But when she looked at Daryl as he looked at her, she simply felt beautiful.

... 18 Years Young (Part V)

"So where we going?" Lydia was surprisingly comfortable around Daryl. Her comfort had even thrown her for a bit of a loop. But once you throw up all over a mans tires for a while, you tend to have no veil.


"Now if I told you, wouldn't that ruin the surprise?" She had to admit, he was smooth. But she was used to his type; Lydia had tricks up her sleeve that no one could guess by looking at her. She was better at playing those sort of head games than anyone. When she would sat back and think, she figured it was a waste that such a female like herself wouldn't live longer to share her knowledge with the world. With Daryl though, she figured she'd just be herself; it was seemingly easier to cut his game with honesty than to try to melt it with her own. Giving him the once over, Lydia noted his not-too-baggy jeans and crisp black polo with the teal horse that went with his black, teal, white and yellow dunks. She giggled to herself a bit that sort of matched. "What's funny?"
"Nothing, it's just that we match."
"Yeah, I peeped that when I saw you. Great minds..."
"Well at least one of us have one. Okay lets see, sneakers jeans and a polo...Am I over-dressed?"
"Nah, now that I see what you have on, I think I'm under-dressed. But it's cool, I figured I wouldn't be able to compete with your beauty." Was that genuine? Or was he just trying to game her again. She would soon find out. They pulled up to a well-known seafood restaurant that was known for it's prestige and it's serious attitude towards reservations. Lydia had never been, and in all honesty she wasn't the ritzy-restaurant type. Though her outfit spoke on the contrary. She just sat in slight awe at the luxury of what the night would soon become. She was impressed when they were seated immediately following Daryl giving the waiter his name. Lydia never knew that Daryl was short for Darylic Esseck. She thought it was a cool name, but why would someones parents name their child what could be sound-wise equivalent to a word synonyms with outcast? Once seated, they both ordered water and settled, sparked conversation.
"So Darylic huh? I never knew. Where'd that name come from?"
He smiled, knowing that the looming question was bound to be asked. "Both of my parents were orphans. They actually met each other in the foster system. Once they made it out and made something of themselves, they got married and had me. My mother said she named me Darylic as a reminder of where she was and where she is." There was no hiding the confusion on Lydia's face. "Like, they're not ashamed of where they came from because they came so far. So instead of naming me something that would ultimately be completely null and void to where they came from, they saw me as a representation of all that they've succeeded. I represented the fact that two family-less kids grew up to be a doctor and an entrepreneur. I am the result of abandonment. I represent derelicts." She had to give it to the kid. He was more than she figured he would be, and that wasn't simply taking him for face-value. Moreover, it was like taking him for what his reputation preceeded him to be. But there was more than met the eye with him. She liked the fact that he was seemingly more than surface.
"Deep stuff my brother. I would've never guessed."
"Well, that's not something you could guess. But I figure you assumed that I wasn't like I am. But I'm human, I have layers. Ya know?" She knew, trust if there was anyone of the surface of this earth who understood the power of understanding someone, it was Lydia.
"Well, I'm happy that I've taken the opportunity to get to know you." She smiled, genuinely.
"Me too. That night, in the car, something you said stuck with me." Lydia blushed slightly at the memories from that night. How she'd revealed her deepest secret to her entire graduating class, and then vomited her life away on the most popular boy in school's tires. He noticed and gently brushed her cheek with his fingers. "Nah, not that part. I remember you saying something along the lines of," he imitated her voice, "All you care about is you and yo rep." Lydia couldn't help but laugh. She didn't remember what she said verbatim, but she had an inkling that she went in on the poor boy. " I actually called and texted some of the girls I've messed with and some of my homeboys to get perspective. I wanted to see what they saw me as. And I got no real responses. I mean, I got a lot of 'you da'man' and 'you know you my favorites', but the stuff they said held no candle to your drunken tirade. I couldn't figure out why I had turned out like this, but I'm glad you agreed to let me take you out. And I am honored to be in the presence of such a real individual." He placed his hands on the table and over hers. Daryl was submitting himself to Lydia and she was eating it up. She couldn't help but to. His words were so genuine and true, it was almost like he was naked in front of her. "I am really lucky." They both shared a smile. Lydia blushed hard this time and her eyes darted towards the floor. He used his index finger to lift her face so their eyes could meet. "So, tell me something that I don't know."
"Something like what?"
"Girl, I border-line bared my soul. You gotta give me something."
"Okay, okay. I'm seventeen, eighteen next month. I'm spanish, black and white. I have a older brother named Salias, no pops, and my mom. I love dogs, music, and the color green. I was about to get my license before I was diagnosed, but I figured there was no point. And I guess you know about the dying thing."
"Yeah, but why let it stop you?"
"What do you mean?" She knew exactly what he meant. It was the same stuff her mother said on a daily basis. But what was the point? Why become invested in a life that only has months left on it's meter. Daryl just lifted one eyebrow. He knew that she knew what he meant. She contemplated telling him everything that she just thought, but instead she opted for a simply "I don't know. It's conplicated"
"If you don't mind me asking..."
"It's a long name that I'd rather not memorize. But basically I was born with a defective heart. It's simply slowing down until it stops. The doctors estimated that in six months, it'll be at the end of it's rope in a sense, and it'll stop. That's basically it."
"Where you a normal kid?"
"Define normal..." She smiled. "Yeah, for the most part. Wasn't really active because of what they thought was asthma. So guess without alot of physical activity, it went undetected."
"So what's next?"
"Well, about a month in a half they'll put in a sort of pace maker. Then in about three months, I'll be basically stuck in the house on bed rest. In five months I'll be in the hospital, and on the six month...well...I guess I die." Once again, Lydia looked at the floor. She had never explained what'll happen to one of her peers before. It was both liberating a painful. Daryl held her hands tighter.
"Hey, I didn't mean to get all heavy. Damn curiosity ya know? You want to order?"
"Yeah sure." She looks up to the most sincere pair of eyes she had ever seen. She was now naked too. When she looked up, it was almost like she was a new person sitting in front of an even newer person. This was a level she had never been to before. They ordered their prospective meals and continued conversation. They laughed so hard, Lydia was actually scared they'd be kicked out the seemingly snooty establishment. After eating, the duo left to walk along the sidewalks of the bustling, night-time hangouts. The only times their hands were indepentant was when they were eating. Other than that, it would seem they were glued together.
"So what happens now? Lydia got serious.
"What do you mean? You wanna go home?" Daryl hadn't really caught on to the change in tone quite yet.
"No idiot, I mean what happens now with us? I don't think you wanna get mixed up with me."
"Mixed up with you?"
"I've pushed people away for a reason. You do realize that I have no future."
Daryl had had enough. "Ugghh. I can't take this anymore. Lyd, look up. Are there any clouds in the sky?" She shakes her head no. "Is it raining?" She repeats her previous action. "I didn't think so. So why do you insist on raining on our night. I knew about your situation before I asked you out. For you to use that as a crutch is fucking confusing to me. If I only had six months to live, I would live them to the fullest."
"Okay but you don't! You have the rest of your fucking life to grow and become an adult! I'm gonna die a fucking teenager!" Lydia was yelling and crying. Tonight was going downhill fast.
"I understand that Lyd, I do." He held her by her shoulders and looked at her red, puffy eyes. "But this pessimism aint you. Your right I can't put myself in your shoes, and my bad for speaking as if i could. But I just want you to realize that you are far too beautiful to try and live in the dark, alone. I'm just tryna be here with you and for you."

...18 Years Young (part IV)

All of the days seemed to blur. One day wasn't existentially different from the next. The rest of that day, as well as the next, blew by like it was itching to be a memory. It was now wednesday, which meant it was the middle of the week. Lydia hadn't spoken to Darryl, or anyone for that matter since the night of the party. The most she had really done was reply to the texts asking whether or not she had made it home safely. She had 2 unanswered messages from him. One simply saying good morning and the other concerning what was partially plagueing her mind at the moment beyond the obvious issue. She knew deep down inside that she really wanted to go out with him, but this wasn't A Walk to Remember, and she wasn't Mandy Moore. Lydia would rather not be anyones pity case. Moreover, she'd rather not tell anyone about her condition in hopes of retaining the only bit of normalcy she had left. That night of drunken stupor left her feeling, well, stupid. But she hoped that everyone there was too drunk to really grasp what she confessed. Understandibly, she saw her relationship to Darryl as deterimental to him, his emotions, and her heart. There was no way they could have any sort of future together, because she had no future. Her mother keeps telling her to live for the day, and she tries. But as previously stated, her optimism is waning. Just thinking about seizing the day made her want to cry. Seize the day for what? While choking back tears, her phone rang. The ringtone, a simple beep, let her know that it was just a text message. Once again it was Darryl:

You can keep avoiding me, but i aint goin no where. Just gimme a yes or a
no. If it's no, i'll leave u alone. But if its yes, i'll be there at 7 tonight.

Lydia didn't really know what to say. Should she attempt to live a normal life, to no longer hide in the confines of her disease and make her last days worth living. Or should she just count the days until she dies. Lydia stared at her phone for a minute or two. A faint smile registered on her face and she mustered up enough self worth to type an answer. "Ok sure. C U @ 7." She decided that, at least for tonight, she was going to live like she used to. Like a teenager. She was going to do her hair, put on a nice outfit and live. Live like she wanted to, live like she should be, live like she had a chance at living. That night, Lydia pressed her spanish wave into a straight wrap, wore one of her favorite outfits, put on eye make-up, lip gloss and smiled. He dress came just above her knees and was black with big bright paint strokes. Her teal cardigan was quarter-lengthed sleeved and her wedge heels were black patent-leather. To say she looked gorgeous was an understatement. That boy better not take her out for burgers, this was a "lets go somewhere vibrant" outfit and she was settling for no less. 7 o'clock came around and Lydia was putting the final touches on her make-up. When the doorbell rang, she was actually nervous. Not because it was her first date and not because it was with the Darryl, but because she didn't know how to act now that he knew that she was...incredibly flawed. Cynthia opened the door with a huge smile. Her baby was leaving the house and taking her advice. There was no point in her sulking in the house for the rest of her limited days. All day, she had been pondering whether or not to encourage her daughter to undergo the experimental treatment. With both of them on the fence, the house had been a bit dreary for the past couple of days. Just by opening the door for this handsome young man, Cynthia felt some of the tension mixing with the fresh air and floating away on the evening breeze.

"Come in, come in. Lyd, your dates here." Cynthia was grinning ear to ear. Almost making Darryl feel a bit uncomfortable. He felt her mother's eyes giving him the once-over while she closed the door behind him. He just hoped he met her expectations.

"Hello Ms....Ms...I'm sorry, I don't believe I know Lydia's last name."

"Oh that's fine honey, it's Ms. Perez. Nice to meet you, Daryl is it?"

"It is. I now understand where Lydia get's her sense of spanish beauty from."

Cynthia took the line like a man dying in the desert, straight thirsty. She blushed and placed her hand on her chest a bit. "Well thank you. Aren't you just a charmer. Hang on a sec while I go get her." She jogged up the steps only to be flored by what she saw. She hadn't seen her daughter all dolled up in months. She was happy that Lydia had taken a hammer to that glass ceiling, she just hoped there was no glass in her eyes. Not to mention she was going out with what seemed to be such a seemingly charming young man. And hopefully, for his sake, it wasn't just a ploy to get into her daughters pants. "Oh baby, you look gorgeous! I love to see you like this, all..."

"Okay ma," Lydia interrupted in the hopes of stopping her mother from tearing up and crying, thanks. I think I'm gonna go on my date now." They shared a connecting smile and Lydia headed down the stairs. What her date saw left him dumbfounded, she seemed to have that effect on the young sutor.

"My lord girl. You make beautiful jealous." Now while her mother was swooning, Lydia was unfazed. She saw D-Money use that line on too many females before. He noted her expression and switched to a more honest type of swag. "You look really really pretty Lydia, honest." This made her smile.

"Thanks D. And from now on, honesty is the best policy." She whispered in his ear, "So you can tuck your game book away or you can leave me home." Lydia smiled and looked at her mother who was a bit puzzled to say the least. "Ok ma, we're out. I'll let you know when I'm headed home."

"Oh girl, take your time." Cynthia said while escorting the teens to the door."And Daryl, if u hurt her, I will most definately kill u and make it sure no one finds the body." He didn't know what was more disturbing, what she just said or the fact that she was smiling while she said it.

"I promise I won't. Take care."

"Mmhmm, you too. For your sake." Cynthia shut the door as the two decended on the steps. She didn't want her daughter loosing cool points because her mother was on the verge of tears. She felt like it was Lydia's first date all over again. But on the contrary, all the kept thinking about what if it was her last.

... 18 Years Young (part III)

The morning sun always seemed to shine brightest when Lydia was hung over. And it also seemed that her drapes would never completely close on mornings like that; and her mother would always decide to cook the most aromatic of breakfasts, and always tend to scream her name extra loud. "Lydia, it's time for breakfast. Come on and eat chile, you got a doctors appointment today." Just thinking about the florescent lights, sterile smell and bad news made Lydia want to vomit. Well, not just that of course. By-passing the stairwell, she hauled ass to the bathroom where she could only dry-heave over the tall procelin toilet, being as all of her stomachs contents still rested where she left them early that morning. After a few moments she stood, squinting in the mirror. Oddly, she decided that she was going to miss mornings like this when she was dead, I mean she was only being a teen. She brushed her teeth, her hair, washed her face, and gathered her barrings to head downstairs. You would've thought that the breakfast her mother prepared smelled like garbage, because it left Lydia's stomach in more of a knot than ever. "I'm not hungry." She says, plopping down in the cushioned chair at the table adorned with panacakes, eggs, bacon, sausage and orange juice of course." "My Lydia? Not hungry? Good lord my child done been switched with someone elses." Her mother sat next to her and stared at her child. She knew that Lydia was suffering from a horrible hang-over. She heard he come in at 3 that morning and it was only 8. But she couldn't blame her. When given news like the news Lydia was handed a mere week ago, Cynthia didn't know if she would've ever gotten out of bed let alone try to lead a normal life. "Ma, do we have to go to the doctors? I mean, we already know what they have to say. Blah blah blah, your dead in six. What else is new?" "Now you stop!" Cynthia was always a big proponent of optimism, but this news had gotten the best of her lately and she feared that it had rubbed off on her youngest child of two. "The doctor said he knows of a treatment. Now it's experimental, but it's a treatment none the less. I think we should go hear him out." Not to be confrontational or rebellious in anyway, that just wasn't her nature, Lydia gave a half hearted nod and dragged her limp body up the stairs to prepare for their outting. Enthusiasm wasn't a big deal to her anymore, and neither was the optimism she inherited from her always upbeat mother who wasn't really upbeat anymore. That contagious energy wasn't looming threw every room in the house anymore. It was barely in existance in her home, let alone in her mother's eyes. She wanted to be sad, but something inside wouldn't let her be. Being a member of the fatherless-tribe with only one set of grandparents who where now dead, and no aunts or uncles which meant no cousins, Lydia only had her mother and older brother Salias to worry about. He was 20 and in college at Notre Dame, which left only her and her mother to sit home and succumb to the dismal news. It was an understatement to say that when she was younger, Lyida felt out of place. Her mother was half Dominican, half white and from what she understood her father was a of african american, west indian decent. Though she and her brother had different fathers, they were both part african american which meant their complections resembled each others. Yet ultimately, they always felt left being the only kids of "mixed-breed" in their classes growing up. She had grown used to feeling a bit uncomfortable. And even though she could be considered popular in high school, her brother never felt that comfortable assimilating, so he went to Notre Dame, which really wasn't known for it's minority population. Here, she fit in. But she wondered what it would be like in Heaven, if she were even going there. "Well, not much has changed since you were here last Lydia. Your condition has worsened a bit, but that's not a surprise to us of course. Over the next six months, it will worsen incredibly until..." "We know, ok... We know." Lydia couldn't understand why the doctors, her mother, anyone who new basically felt the need to constantly remind her of her early demise. She knew, and she didn't need to hear it on a daily basis. She had heard enough, she got dressed and her mother began to gather their things to meet the doctor in his office. Once the settled in their seats, he looked at them with his hands folded on his desk and a stern look on his face. "There is an experimental treatment."

...18 Years Young (part II)

"I don't think you shoulda drank as much as you did shawty. You gotta know when to slow down." Darrells words fell on deaf ears; Lydia's alcohol ridden mind had the world twirling beneath the car so fast, she didn't know which way was up. "You hear me? Hello?" She rolled her head over and nodded. Gazing into his gentle face had Lydia feeling quite emotional, well that and the 3 beers and 2 cups of "punch." "You aint catchin' a word I'm sayin'. I bet tomorrow, you won't even remember this conversation." Once again, she nods. This time with her eyes closed. Darrell laughs. "Girl you are twisted. But it's cool though, I'm not gonna take advantage of you. I'm just not that kind of guy, you know? I don't know where this 'sex god' rep came from, but that aint me. I got alot of layers man, I mean I'm smart, nice, shit I'm taking you home and I barley know you." This time Lydia laughs, then burps, then laughs again. "What you laughin' at now girl?" She stares out the windshield with a goofy smile on her face.
"We been in da same class sin-se fif grade D-Money. But you don' know me. I'f had ah-lease two clazzez wif you sin-se we been in hi-skoo. But you don' know me?" She lifts her drunken body up with her limp arms, she had a point to make. "An' you know why you gots a rep-poo-tashim? Hmm? Because *burp* a-cause you fucked bout haf the girlz in ow grade...No! make that haf the girlz in da-skoo. You haf layers? Pleeeeaaassssseeee. You do jus enuf ta get by. Do you's use yo brain? 'Cause since before I kin rememba, you had tha unda-classmen doin it for you. So saf me the bull." Lydia collapses back into her seat, leaving Darrell dumb-founded. Then he lets out a laugh.
"You are somethin' else, you know that? No girl ever tells me the real, ever. The do what they can to stay in my good graces, but you, you keep it real. I like that." She rolls her eyes and turns her head once more in his direction.
"Ugh, save your praises for someone who gives a fuh-fuh-uh..pull the car over." Darrell comes to a screaching halt on the residential road between two houses. He knew what was comming and couldn't bare having to clean vomit out of his car twice in one week. Lydia bursts from the car as if it were on flames and crouches to the back tire of the car, hurling her breakfast, lunch and dinner out of the pits of her stomach into the gutter.
"Damn girl, see I told you." Darrell stands, hovering over her resting on the hatchback of his truck. Lydia lifts her head between vommiting to speak.
"Enjoying the view?" He backs up as if he were defenseless.
"Hey, chill girl. I was just making sure you was alright." She vomits and wipes her mouth on her sleeve.
"Oh spare me ok D-Money. You don' give a fuck bout me. I'm jus anotha one ov your laughs." He walks closer, being genuinely hurt by her words.
"That's what you think about me?" She doesn't bother to lift her head this time. Sobering with every spell of vomit.
"No, that's what I know. Only person you care about is you, an yo rep. Do you care about me? Does it matter that I'm alive to you? Granted that I only have about six more months, but if I didn't, would we hang-out?" She looks up, "Shit, would you date me D-Money? I've seen you watching me. I'm 5''5, honey complection, hair past my shoulders with hazel eyes and a nice shape. You've looked in my direction. So what's the problem?" Once again, he's dumb-founded. Studdering, all he can seem to muster for the few seconds he's on the hot seat was something along the lines of "buhh...buuhh.." Lydia rather not hear it. "Fuck it. Take me home please. I just want to go home." She wipes a tear, preparing to fall down her cheek and helps her self onto her feet. She climbs into the car and buckles her seatbelt, all-the-while leaving Darrell still leaning on his car to contemplate his words. After a minute or so of thinking, he climbs back in the car, surrounded by uncomfortable silence. Once they reach her house, Darrell grabs her had as she prepares to unbuckle her seatbelt.
"So, Ms. Lydia, would you like to go out with me?"

...18 Years Young (part I)

In a drunken stupor, she lifts her corona bottle to the paint-sponged ceiling that tied all the apartments together. Wobbling as she shifted weight from one leg to another, she stumbles a bit, but catches herself just in time to stop her beer from spilling. For a moment she watches; the sea of familiar and unfamiliar faces blurred like spinning colors. No face looks different from another. Dizzy with alcohol, she tries to focus. She has something important to say. "Kinnn ah haf your attemtin pleaz?" The party go'ers don't seem to recognize her drunken phrase, so she tries once more. "Eskuze me! Kin ah pleaz haf your attemtion pleeeaazzz?" This time a few look in her direction, trying also to focus their gaze on the dizzy woman in the black dress swaying in the middle of the room. A man on the couch decides to be a good samaritan, to pause his conversation for the under-dressed overly sexed woman who he planned on escorting to his bedroom that night, and help the 'little lady' get her point across. It helped a bit that it was his house.
"Aye yo! Listen up, yall see ol' girl tryna say something right? So shut the fuck up and listen." He nudges her, only to have to catch her a bit, being as he knocked her off balance.
"Well thaank yoo verwee much DMoney, okey dokey so ass many of you know, my names is Lidia." She takes a sip of her beer. "I go to high school wif mos ov yoo an we graduate tomorrow morning, YAY 07!" The party goers roar in applause at the idea of them being rid of their high school whoas in the day to come. When the hoots and hollers go silent she looks to the ceiling again, and takes another sip. "Well amny way, I just wann-id to say it wuz a blessin' to school with you fine lady and gent-men." She takes another sip, someone from the back yells something along the lines of "hurry up bitch", so she holds up one finger to notion that she has one more bit of information to relay. "Unforchunately, I will not see you guys at the reunions a-cause, frum the date ov my diagsnosis, I will be dead on Novembers 6th, 2007, six months from now." She downs the rest of her beer to a silenced room. She collapeses on the floor in laughter, waving her arms and legs like she was making a snow angel in the alcohol-stained carpet. She stops laughing long enough to choke out a few words..."Enjoy the partys peoples."