I open my eyes and I am tangled in the sheets, books upside down on the floor. I know without looking at the time that I’m late. I leap out of bed, one foot still wrapped in the sheet, and land flat on my face. I lie there a minute. Close my eyes. Wonder if I can pretend I’ve fainted and convince Mom to let me blow off today and stay home.
It’s peaceful on the floor.
But it also smells a bit. I open an eye and there’s something ground into the rug. One of Dandelion’s cat treats, maybe. I turn my head to the other side and it’s better over here, but hen from outside I hear a horn blast, and this is my dad.
Hello all, HOHOHOHO!
MARTINA GREEN: We’re hearing a clip of AD Massey from Channel Four news, which aired on the night of January seventh. That’s right, listeners. The police actually think Zoe Spanos attempted to motorboat across the Atlantic to the Jersey shore, to board a bus to Philadelphia. And that she succeeded.
Maybe it’s possible, for an experienced boater, which Zoe was not. The police have latched onto the fact that Zoe was majoring in marine biology like it’s some kind of proof she was an expert in all things nautical. News flash: College-level research knowledge of the giant squid does not equal experience with boating or aquatic navigation.
Call it whatever you like. A vacation. A high school graduation present. Maybe even an escape. All I know is I’m as far from Miami as I’ve ever been.
I’m here because the Cuban Remedy failed. It’s forever ancient and reads like a recipe. Though the ingredients may vary from family to family, the goal is always the same: suffer heartbreak and your family will fix you. Except no amount of food and family could heal my heartbreak, so like a plotline from one of Mami’s telenovelas, they tricked me instead.