Aravella Celestine Dwayne's Point of View
I mean, they accepted me into ten universities altogether. Each acceptance letter was a testimonial of my strenuous efforts, a bright beacon of promise. And yet, when standing at the threshold of this new chapter of life, this choice had not only been a logical move-it was destiny. It was the place where Clementine studied, and I got drenched with longing to be close to him.
But things could be so much more complicated than anyone would ever imagine as things turn out. Just as the news of acceptance was still gleaming in my face, my own future loomed large and foreboding, haunted by the oppressive shadow of an arranged marriage with Apollo's family. I could never have known that the biggest decision that I would ever make in life would involve this even before high school graduation.
My classmates were chatty and nervous about the coming end of senior year. The implication of graduation brought mixed feelings for me at times: a little sadness over leaving all that I had behind, and on the other side, anxiety about the marriage that I was to enter into. It is as if, while being on the threshold of adulthood, the life given was one not chosen.
"Aravella!" My friend Dania's voice pierced the haze of thoughts, and I couldn't help but feel her high energy was the total opposite of the buzz that had been going through my head. "You have to be excited! Van Gogh is going to be amazing!"
I tried to smile as I said yes, but I could feel this tension sitting in my chest. "Yeah, I am. It's just. a lot to think about."
"Are you worried about the arranged marriage?" she asked now, her voice thick with worry.
"More like everything," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "I mean, I thought I'd have some time just to enjoy my freedom, and here I am trying to figure out my future while balancing school and. whatever this is with Apollo."
She nodded to him, lighting up the understanding in her eyes. "You don't have to have it all figured out right now. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. Just focus on what makes you happy--like your music, or hanging out with Clementine.".
It was Clementine. Just the thought of him warmed my chest. He had always been there, always a steady in the whirlwind of chaos that made up my life. For more than his looks, I admired the kindness, like it was oozing from every pore of his body. Still, though, that nagging feeling inside me refused to be pushed out-to the effect that I was nothing but a stranger in his world.
I guess, I said, looking out the window, watching as the sun dipped down to the horizon and threw long shadows across the pavement. "I just wish life weren't so complicated,"
That night, preparing for bed, I reached for my diary. It had become my refuge, my sanctuary where I could let loose all my thoughts, knowing that no judgment could come my way. I opened up a new page and began to write:
Dear Diary,
Today was an oscillating kind of day. I got ten letters of acceptance and should be happy. But this weight upon the chest feels heavy enough as if some big stone is placed on it. Standing behind one of those highway signs that bears the inscription for every road-and to every road leads something I am not prepared for-leaves me a bit scared. I came to Van Gogh University because it feels right, but the truth is that I am scared. Scared of this arranged marriage hanging above my head, scared of what will come my way.
And then there's Clementine. I wish I could go to him and open my mouth so he would know the truth of it all, but at times, it feels like impossible. He is now courting Madeline, and I am only a girl who admires him from afar. Perhaps it was stupid of me to believe, anyway, that I might even have a chance, what with my life mapped out somewhere I'd never wanted to go in the first place.
What I'll wish for tonight, blowing out my candles and everything for the celebrations of turning nineteen, is maybe that love finds me when it does not feel like an obligation or a choice made for me. But those are all just wishes.
Love wasn't meant to be shared with everyone, or maybe it's simply not for me.
I closed the diary, my heart heavy but little lighter for the thoughts that had flowed out of it. My eyes slowly closed and fell asleep as I sat there perhaps just perhaps I could find my way to carve out my own path in that tangled web of expectations and desires.
Flashback
Night air loaded with anticipation as I play scales on the piano-the tips of my fingers running over keys set against the subdued light of the room. Apollo came to pick up his usual session, only this time, something was different tonight in the air, a crackling tension between us, leaving me puzzled. He is focusing all his attention on my hands, his brow furrowed.
Aravella, you must relax," he said, his voice deep with a tone of encouragement and frustration. "Music isn't just about hitting the right notes. It's emotion."
I stopped, my fingers suspended over the keys. "Easier said than done, Apollo," I said, my voice playing at it with a little bit of playfulness in it. "You make it sound so easy.".
His warmth makes my heart go wild while he leaned closer. "Perhaps if you cared less about mistakes and more about the music, you'd feel it," he chided, one of his rare smiles spreading across his face.
I couldn't help but laugh. "You're a tough teacher, you know that?
"Only because I believe in you," he said now, serious. You have so much talent, Ara. Don't let it go to waste.
In that very moment, our eyes locked, and everything shifted. My heart skipped a beat. I remained silent and said nothing. Then, out of nowhere, he declared, "I know this sounds insane, but for some time now, I have been feeling something for you.".
The room drew away from us, the outside world dimming. I parted my lips to speak, but words failed me. Before I could even think of saying anything, my mother's voice cut through, jarring like a sour note in an otherwise sweet symphony.
"Dinner is ready, Aravella! Apollo!" she boomed downstairs, shattering the soap bubble we had so tenderly built.
We shared one glance at each other, a mix of shock and puzzlement. I was electric charged in wonder but then pushed it back as I focused on the next day, for which I had high and hope, life-altering.
My mom that evening called me to her sitting room. She had serious faces and an imposing tone. I felt that weight was hung in the air, that doom hanging to wring the juice out of my stomach.
Aravella, I have something serious to talk to you about, she said, her voice as hard as a steel girder.
What is it, I asked as I steeled myself for the worst.
There has been a proposal, she said, the word hanging in the air like a weight I couldn't lift. Your father and I have arranged for you to marry Apollo.
I blanked, the words she had said slamming against me like a wave. "Wait, what? I didn't—"
"Listen," she said softly, interrupting me. "Before you say anything, because this isn't just about you. It's about family, about connections and the future we are building."
"But I'm not ready for this!" I bellowed, frustration bubbling inside me. "I'm still in high school! I have my whole life ahead of me!"
Just when Caspian stepped into the house, he could feel the tightness in the air. "What's going on?" he asked, concern etched out on his face.
I moved my head to him and spoke out with the words that hurt me as much as they literally did; my voice shivering at the message. "Just now, my mom said I had to marry Apollo."
He changed his face and stepped into anger. "This is bloody ridiculous. She is too young for this kind of pressure. Ara should be concentrating on her studies and enjoying her youth not getting tied down on an arranged marriage."
As he started arguing, "You don't understand, Caspian—," my mom sighed in exasperation.
"No, I do! Not right to her! She hasn't even graduated yet! he declared, protective instincts rearing up within him. "Just like this, you can't decide her future!
The room was heavy with tension, and an argument with my brother and mom proved to be all day's encounter. As if I stood at the edge of a chasm; there was the tremendous weight of expectation from my family and the desires that rose in my heart.
In that instant, all the excitement that had been associated with Apollo's confession dissipated, and that ugly reality of an arranged marriage hung over me. I wanted to scream, want to run away from it all; but a heavy heart, I sat in silence and grappled with the strangling reality of my future.